We have officially moved into our new house. I never want to move AGAIN EVER. I say so in the same way I said I never want to give birth or care for a newborn AGAIN EVER after Ethan was born. Connor still came later, so we’ll see about my superlative declarations. On one hand I was eager to get settled after temporary living for over two months. But on the other hand, this is what we have to go through to get settled:
The Sandias were not the only mountains in sight. Each time I emptied a box, it seemed that they multiplied themselves like loaves and fishes. Somehow I managed to get the kitchen completely unpacked this weekend. It was quite the feat. I celebrated by joining my husband on the couch and eating chocolate. He has no problem relaxing each evening. He knows that it will eventually get done. True, but the chaos is killer to me. The desire to replace disorder with order keeps me on my feet. My poor, aching feet. Because of the move, I postponed all other things, like blogging and running. But I still feel fatigued and exhausted as if I’ve worked out. Instead of a healthier heart though, I have paper cuts. At least there is some satisfaction with both. The boys on the other hand are having a hey-day. They were so glad to have found toys in some of those mountains of boxes.
In the midst of moving, our firstborn turned 7. It’s cliche to say, but time really does fly. The birthday boy requested cookies to take to school to share with his class. He asked for chocolate chip or butterscotch oatmeal (the two kinds I bake most), but with everything in boxes he was having to “settle” for professional ones. I found a nearby bakery through my personal assistant aka Google. I was the annoying last minute customer expecting a miracle for my day-before request. Lucky for me, the owner at Patisserie C was a sweet miracle worker. She made these delicious goodies and had them ready in record time.
Today I decided to adopt my husband’s mindset and know that it will eventually get done. So here I am on my blog. And I just came back from a run. It had been a week stretch in between runs again. However, this morning, I was armed with a playlist! For the first time, I took music with me. Thanks for all your suggestions. I thought of Chan, Sonia, and Tricia when your songs came on. It was strange running with tunes for the first time. I was smiling more. I think the beats had me running faster, too, because I was panting harder and earlier and feeling the BURN. And I had to keep myself from stopping my pace to bust out the dance moves. I would say it was very successful because according to my mapping, I extended my usual run by half a mile. Score!
And now, the boxes are calling me. I am even postponing my shower to resume tackling them. If I have to suffer, you all should suffer. Smell my stench and think of my poor, aching feet. In all seriousness, the suffering is not really suffering. It’s setting the foundation for a new life. In the wise words of Flo Rida, “here we go!”