Friday, June 27, 2008


Why do all hotel air conditioners sound like a 57 Chevy from your Grandpa's garage? Random thought from this tired Mama's brain.

This post will be short. It's length crushed by only 2 hours of sleep. At 4:30 a.m. I took it as a sign from God that I should stop packing when I ran out of boxes.

I, my babies, and sick husband (yes, he dared to get a serious chest cold right in the middle of moving!) are relocating to another state. It's not just another state. It's another life.

For weeks now I have kvetched over all the details of the Movement (it's capitalized because I'm tired and it's really, really hard to move with two kids!). I have wrung my hands in maternal consternation at how I would ensure my nearly 5 year old and 11 month old could make the Movement (for the other 'movements' try popcorn and/or everytime...but I digress). I bought a Movement planner with tabs duly noted with the myriad of informational bits I simply had to capture or they would be forever lost in the Movement ethersphere!

Now, the Movement has finshed Phase I: Packing. The truck is full, as is my Tiger Woods Suv. The apartment is wrecked, appearing more like the aftermath of a MegaDeath concert than a place once resided in by a loving family. My husband, whose own Movement is slightly delayed by work for another week, will have the envious task of cleaning the place. It's his turn anyway.

Phase I largely escaped my children. The baby liked to chew on the errant strand o' packing tape sticking out of a box. The 5 year old planned where he would like to live. "In a town, Mommy, with stores and a Starbucks!" They remained placidly oblivious to the chaos of the Movement around them. So did my husband, but that's for another blog.

So here I sit in the hotel room, 1/3 of the journey complete, wrung out and feeling flattened by the steamroller of the Movement. The children remain oblivious. They are only experiencing the joy of being completely catered to by their NaNa.

I wonder where this Movement will take me in my mothering? I don't know. I...really...don't know. Surprisingly, not knowing is okay.

I know for certain where the Movement will take me in just 1 sleep.

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