My sense of dread and anticipation are about equal at the moment. Maybe a little more dread right at this moment!
I called our landlord today and gave notice that we are moving out. I should have given a month, but finally only got around to it today, a mere 9 days before we are due to vacate our home. We’ve lived here now for just shy of 7 years, all of our married life, the only home we have raised our child in… the place I’ve wanted to leave, for about as long as we’ve lived here!
We always had plans to move on and now, in 9 days time, that moment will come. (just to be clear though, we’re not moving in to the new house yet, but just into my parents home down the lane as we can no longer afford rent + mortgage!).
For the last two years I have put off any spring cleaning, getting rid of unwanted stuff, saying to myself ‘I’ll do that when we move’ !!!!! I had great plans of organising all our stuff into neat boxes, with labels on them, saying which room they should be moved into. I had images of cleaning the house, so the landlord wouldn’t decide to keep our deposit. I had visions of us waving goodbye to the old house with a little tear of sadness as we drove off with all our belongings in a large white van, with Joshua sitting on my knee.
The reality is somewhat different. I started to pack today, in my panic, after I had spoken to the landlord, after realising that the day we are due to vacate, I’m working from 10am till 6pm. Realising that the day before we are due to move, Rob has a driving lesson and his driving test (which if he passes will mean a new job, local to the new house). The first box I packed consisted of a foot high pile to ‘to do’s’. Work that I have been putting off for the last two years. There isn’t a chance in hell I’m going to get to sort through them… indeed the way things are going, that box will be put into the attic and I’ll discover it in my 50’s when I finally decide to clean it out.
My new vision is that I’ll be throwing anything and everything into any box I can find. Clothes will be flung, plates will be broken, there won’t be a strip of bubble wrap in sight and all my piles of junk will find their new home inside closed, dark boxes, where they will stay for at least 6 to 12 months.
To be sure, I’ll get it done. To be sure, it’ll all be grand. In 11 maybe 12 days it’ll all be forgotten about… and Rob, Josh and I will get on with living our lives with my parents!!! Hahahahahaaaaaaa……
Did I mention my feelings about that!!
When all else fails.. I just have to remember one thing! NEVER GIVE UP!
I also have to remember that no matter how stressed I feel or how panicked I get, my worries are miniscule compared to the worries of some. Today is Rare Disease Day and as a mommy, I realise there is nothing more difficult in life than having a sick child. Nothing more precious than seeing them smile and grow.
"from small beginnings come great things"