Moving, Part 1 - The Actual Packing

I was totally okay with procrastinating.  I thought it was so funny that I wrote my previous post about it.  But let me now assure you:

Procrastination is no laughing matter.

By the time I finally got my butt in gear and started packing, it was seriously too late.  I thought I would have that whole last week before Dan came home (he was already in Colorado for three weeks before coming home to celebrate Christmas and get us moved), but I was so busy with other stuff that it was really only a weekend of packing.

I thought I did really good!  Fifteen boxes packed, and half of them were those horrid breakables like stemware and china I never use but won't ever get rid of.  That shit's really hard to pack!  And like, it made a huge pile in my living room!

Besides, I had farewell parties and kid school parties to attend.  I had last minute Christmas presents to buy.  I had to take both dogs to the vet for their booster shots.  I had to deal with our termite company.  I had to get the oil changed in my car.  I had to get a haircut.  I had to assist my son in losing his first tooth, for crying out loud!

By the time we picked Dan up at the airport, I had had three weeks to pack up the house and all I had accomplished were those fifteen measly boxes.

Fifteen sounds like a lot ... until you realize that everything you own takes up EVERY SQUARE INCH of a 26-foot moving truck.

So the next day, a Saturday, we hit the ground running.  Non-stop packing all up until it was time to leave for Christmas Eve dinner at Granny's on Tuesday.  At this point (and until 2 days after we move in to our new home) I'm on a schedule of only showering every 4 days or so.

I enjoyed Christmas in moments, but I really feel like I missed out on the whole Christmas season this year.  So much so that I forgot to water the Christmas tree.  For the entire time Dan was gone.  By the time we took it down it was a good 6 inches shorter, and there were more pine needles on the floor than on the damn tree.  I totally blame Dan for that one.  He always waters the Christmas tree and should have reminded me that I needed to do that lest we create and incredible fire hazard.

I did, however, manage to move Jingles, our elf on the shelf, every single night (with the help of a recurring alarm on my phone).

So, to recap:

• Dan leaves for Colorado the day after Thanksgiving.
• I do nothing but watch Downton Abbey for two weeks (oh, and move Jingles).
• I spend one weekend packing 15 boxes.
• I spend one week doing lots of totally necessary things - none of them packing.
• Dan comes home and we pack (but don't shower) for 4 days.
• We allow ourselves 30 hours to clean up and celebrate Christmas.
• We spend the next 30 hours loading the moving truck and cleaning the house.

And during all this time the Christmas tree was not watered, and I randomly burst into tears.

Especially when we said goodbye to our house.

It was a great house.  Our first house.  When we bought it in 2006 it was just the two of us.  Seven years later we have a son, a daughter, two dogs, and a cat.  I painted every room in that house to make it ours.  It was home.  And as exciting as this move is, the thought of making a new home was just too much to bear at that moment.