Moving Day

This isn't how I imagined it would be.

The scenario I had in mind went something like this: I sit amidst packed and perfectly labeled boxes on furniture waiting to be loaded onto the moving truck. I am laughing with my girl friends, drinking wine and toasting the wonderful memories we've made in this home.

In reality, I am sitting on my doorstep alone. I am watching my husband load a few things onto our friend's truck and I am quietly crying. I am crying because number one, this isn't how I imagined it. And number two, I have A LOT of work to do and it's already 10:30 pm on the night before our move.

What was I thinking?! Was I thinking the house would pack itself while I was at work?! Did I think the children would help?! Did I think my husband would know how to pack?! Most of all...did I realize I would be so UNWILLING to let people I love help me?!

Numerous friends called and offered to help me pack. Repeatedly I told them that I had it under control. That this was just something I needed to "muddle through." When I had it under control and could direct them, I would call. Needless to say, I didn't call. So when Matt came home at midnight 11:00 pm from the first load and wanted to know why I was so stressed....it wasn't pretty. I unloaded on him about how stressed I was and why I was so stressed and no, he couldn't do anything to help me!!! I imagine I must have looked like Medusa.

Here ensued meltdown number one. He said, "Honey, really...it will be fine! The guys aren't coming until 8:30. We'll be moving the big stuff, the kids will be watching tv, you can pack around us. And, if THIS is what you're going to be like..."

What I'm going to be like? Really?! It's my first year back to work from a three year leave. I'm teaching a grade level I've never taught before. We just got back from Disney World with three kids, two cousins, your brother and your sister in law (which was amazing but won't be repeated for a few years until the kids, namely Ben, are older). We bought a house, sold a house and now we're moving and you wonder why I am a crazy woman?!

I explained that he had to let me do this. That he had to let me stress out on him a little because if I stressed out to my friends, I wouldn't have any left and if I stressed out to my sisters it would be proof that I shouldn't be doing this in the first place, and if I stressed out to my mom then she would worry about me. He had to let me do this....or else.

I cried a little. He hugged me a lot. And we continued to pack the kitchen - together.

I guess I imagined that I would be able to pack little by little each night after the kids went to bed. What I didn't imagine was that Gabe would be having such a struggle with moving. I should have known since I think he is so much like me that a change like this would be as hard on him as it was on me. We don't like change, even happy change, he and I. We could have lived contentedly on Zumbro Drive until we were both old and gray. But, far be it from me to hold back my oldest offspring. He was up until after 10 every night because he couldn't sleep....repercussions from the stress of moving upheaval I am sure. So, by the time he got to bed, it was time for me to go to bed. Needless to say, I didn't get much packing done the week before we moved.

Which brings us back to Friday night. Matt helped me pack a little, then I shooed him off to bed and I tried to pack a little more before sleep beckoned me, too.

I got up at 7:00 with everyone else and had the kids fed and mostly dressed by the time our friends came to help us move. Before I go any further, a shout of gratitude goes out to Wint, Evy, Dave, and John. We couldn't have done it without you! Dave rented the truck for us and he and all the others, including Matt did all the grunt work. It wasn't looking too positive when Wint tore part of his car off turning around in John's driveway, and the moving truck ran out of gas in our driveway. But, at least all of that bought me some packing time.

I was doing pretty well when I needed to bring the kids to Sarah's house (Thank God for good friends to watch the kids!). By then though, the guys had started to stand around because they were waiting for more boxes. Here ensued meltdown number 2. I don't know what Matt's friends thought while they watched me in the driveway with Matt from our picture window, gesturing wildly, crying and storming off in the van. What Matt said was, "It's no big deal. The guys can pack up some stuff while you take the kids to Sarah's house."

What I said was, "Are you kidding?! I told you this was going to happen. I told you the guys would be standing around waiting for something to do and then would just start throwing junk (other word really) in boxes! I TOLD YOU THIS WAS WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN!" I irrationally stormed off and brought the kids to Sarah's house. I cried on her shoulder and headed back to the moving battlefield.

And what did I find? Junk (other word) in boxes. Randomly thrown in, not labeled, not gone through. "See?" I said in my mind. "This is how boys pack. And it is NOT acceptable." It was evident that Matt must have told them to stop, because none of it was done and the guys were sitting outside "taking a break" when I got home. I took a deep breath and started unpacking, repacking and delegating.

John - take down the quilt rack and the valances. Evy - take apart and pack the xbox. Wint - call your wife and quit talking about impending rain. Dave - get this dresser and these boxes out. Matt - clean out the attic. Little by little it got done and miraculously, we were mostly out of the house by 12:30.

I finished up a few things after the guys left, got some pizzas, unloaded my emotional baggage on my mom and drove to the new house. We ate lunch and got the truck unpacked and everything in the house by 4:00. Now, as I sit in this house mostly free of boxes (but still way too much STUFF), I am amazed at how smoothly, despite my two meltdowns, the move went.

Thanks to John setting up our beds, we were all able to sleep in the new house that night and have 3 of the 5 of us in church the next day. In the morning Gabe said to me, "Mommy, you know what I love best about the new house? Having my own room and hearing the cardinals in the morning." It was worth it, late nights, melt downs and all. It was not how I thought it would be, but how it was meant to be. And for that, I am grateful!

The Unexpected Move

Ever since we bought our home on Zumbro Drive, my hunting husband has been looking for land in the country. It would drive me crazy when the Homes insert would come in the newspaper and he would pore over it, show me ridiculous properties, and yearn for land. He would call the numbers listed on the for sale signs he saw on his drives in the country and every once in awhile he would drag me to look at a home. I remember one conversation we had after Gabe was born where I tearfully said, "I just can't take the home dissatisfaction any longer and can we just be happy with what we have??" He said that we could but could he at least have a deadline for when we might start looking again? So, we set the deadline of three years. Three years turned into seven years and two more children, which brings us to January of this year, 2011.

Let it be noted that I have always been perfectly happy in our 2200 square foot (including the garage) home with our large, to die for, backyard. After years of bucking Matt's "white walls only" trend, I finally got it painted completely how I wanted it. I was ready to start in on redecorating the basement when we got a link on our email from a realtor Matt had talked to years ago. Usually when we would get these, I would look at it, and quietly delete it. The house was either too old or too expensive and the land was either pasture or farm land, not the hunter's paradise for which Matt longed.

This time, what I saw gave me pause. It was a large house on over 17 acres of woods, right smack between Pine Island and Matt's school on the NW side of Rochester. And, it was a foreclosure. Still way out of our price range, but I called Matt to the basement to look at it anyway. It didn't take long until he was on the phone with our realtor friend (not the same one who had sent us the link) and we were on our way to take a look at it.

I was prepared to hate it. In the picture, the house looked gray and I will NOT live in a gray house! We pulled up the steep, long driveway and I knew we were in trouble. It was not gray, it was a dark putty color and it was beautiful. The land was covered with 2 feet of snow, but we trudged around anyway while the kids went in the house and picked out their bedrooms.

As a foreclosure, we knew that there was a lot to be done, but we could definitely see the possibilities. It was still too expensive. And, I'm the type of person who doesn't decide I like a sweater until I look at the price. If it's too expensive, I won't even let myself consider it,let alone like it!

But really, the house appeared to be made for us. There were two boy bedrooms and a girl bedroom, enclosed lockers in the mudroom (five for the five of us, although Matt tried to convince me that it meant that we could have 2 more children), a huge master bedroom, open kitchen, big deck, I could go on and on.

We decided to put in a low bid (which I originally thought was our top bid). So we did. We bid roughly $50,000 below asking price, which was already about $75,000 below the starting sale price. We settled in to wait for a response from the bank. I mean, we've watched enough HGTV to know that these things can take time. Less than 24 hours later, the bank countered back.

I won't bore you with all the details, but over the next two weeks we countered back and forth with the bank, argued with each other, prayed, crunched the numbers of our budget again and again, talked to our parents and siblings, cried a little, and yes, before we even had a final agreement, we started packing.

And boy did we pack. We knew that if we had to put our house on the market, it had to be on the market yesterday. We cleared major clutter out of the house (22 boxes of toys and clothes out of the boys' room alone)and cleaned and repaired and worked ourselves silly getting the house ready for the sale.

We stored probably about 150 boxes over at my mom's house while our house was on the market. We put our house on the market on a Wednesday, had a below zero unproductive first weekend open house, posted our house on facebook, had a second open house and 12 days later...it was sold.

I still can't really believe how everything truly came together and seemed meant to be in order for the purchase of the new house to happen. Two weekends ago, we moved out of Zumbro Drive and into the new home on 105th Street NW, our own rural paradise. I'll tell you about moving another day. Last weekend we cleaned the old house till it shined. Now, three months after we first looked at this new house, we will say good bye to the old house, turn in our keys, and wish the new owners as much love and happiness as we found living on Zumbro Drive.