Adventures in Moving - Part 1 -The Lights and Packing
Happy happy happy Easter Monday! It has been a crazy four and a half days. We (the Husband and I) have just spent our third night in the new place and lemme just say that our new bed is ahmahzing. Yesterday was the Kid's first day and night in the new place so of course I didn't sleep well - combination of my cold sore throbbing and keeping an ear open for the Kid. We still have a few boxes to unpack (more of my clothes) and then I will be able to say we have officially moved in. It has been 4 and a half days of physical labour, tears, stress and frustration - peppered with joy. And it has all been worth it as I sit on my sofa and look out my window and see trees and hear birds singing. I LOVE THIS PLACE!
So today is Part I of the "move" story. I figured I would break it up into sections so that you, dear readers, wouldn't be overwhelmed by my stupidity and short fuse. So come, walk with me down the path of ire and frustration. Bask in my lack of comprehension on all things packing. Join me in my temper tantrums and foot stomping. Accompany me... o.k. enough. Here we go.
Wednesday P.M. (everytime you see the day and time, imagine the theme song to The Excorcist
I luckily had a half day booked so I was able to head home around 12:30 and stuff myself with pizza (a normal reaction to impending stress). After that orgy of cheese and dough, I picked up the Kid from daycare (once again I was informed he didn't nap to which I wish I could have responded with "I guess he didn't get the corporate message I sent out re: naps and why they shoud be taken) and headed to the new apartment to await the "Lights Guy". Luckily I was able to rope a friend in and her friend who is visiting from the Great White North to come by and help me wrangle the Kid in case he got some idiotic idea to chew on wires. Some wine later and a hyped up kid, our lights were installed. Incroyable. I need to take more pictures and post them soon. I LOVE MY LIGHTS. Except I was a little peeved because I had to switch the originally planned kitchen light and bedroom light. And when I say a little peeved, I was fuming on the inside. Good thing I had company because I was pretty close to my Greek Widow schtick.
Anyway, after two hours the Lights Guy and his buddy finished installing the lights. I tipped them and then threw the Kid into his stroller and headed back home. I was exhausted and I knew that the next day was going to be a marathon. I believe I passed out around 9 p.m. because I might as well go into fetal position when faced with a challenge.
Thursday morning I brought the Kid to daycare and then ran back home to start packing. I knew we had a lot to pack but I didn't really really know. I guess that's like having a kid. You know it's going to be hard but you don't really really know until you have one. Smug random parenting comment. Yes!
The Husband had to go to the new apartment and let the kitchen guys in the morning (and yes, all the pieces finally arrived! Woot!) and I got to work on our old place. Oh mother of Bruce it was a challenge. The kitchen alone took 4 hours even though I threw out so much crap weeks ago! The Kid's room wasn't so bad but our bedroom and the living room was a nightmare. About midday it became very clear that this was not going to be a fast task and it didn't help that the Husband kept popping out to do idiotic things like change our mailing address. Yes, I am being a jerk. He also headed over to the new apartment to see the progress being made on the kitchen. I also think that it is ingrained in many men to be drawn to construction sites... much like many women to shoe shops. Sexism, I haz it.
Anyway, at one point the Husband came bearing cheeseburgers and I snapped at him that I was DOING ALL THE WORK and that I was a teeny bit annoyed. Teeny meaning incredibly pissed off. So his response was to head back to the new apartment and "check" on the kitchen again. At that point, I released the Flying Monkeys, but alas, they were already packed. Later in the afternoon the Husband called and informed me that I had bought the wrong faucet for the kitchen. Of course I did. My rational response to this information "WELL THEN YOU OBVIOUSLY GAVE ME THE WRONG DETAILS!" So the Husband headed to the store and bought the right one and brought it back to the new apartment to have it installed. And how I wish I had kept the original details of what he sent me with to the store all those weeks ago to prove him wrong.
By late afternoon it became even clearer that we would not be done with the packing in one day. Oh, I'm sorry, I meant "I". The Husband came home again and placed two shirts in a box and then headed back to the new apartment. At which point I sent him a strongly worded text with positive affirmations consisting of words like "my" "foot" "your" "ass". Of course the kitchen took much longer than expected but part of me thinks the Husband lies. I think he enjoyed the new aparment in solitude; taking in the fine crown moulding, the luminous lights, the arched ceilings, the large windows... or just the fact that I wasn't there screaming "YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN?!? ARE YOU HIGH?!?" The Husband came home around 8:30 bearing pizza (listen, it's how I deal with stress) and between bites I gently put my foot on his neck, exerting pressure and explained sweetly that the movers were coming in less than 12 hours. For the next couple of hours we continued to pack. Marriage is not about keeping score. Rather, it is about working together and jointly enjoying the fruits of your labour as a team.
Boxes packed:
Me: 55
Him: 4
Yeah.
So today is Part I of the "move" story. I figured I would break it up into sections so that you, dear readers, wouldn't be overwhelmed by my stupidity and short fuse. So come, walk with me down the path of ire and frustration. Bask in my lack of comprehension on all things packing. Join me in my temper tantrums and foot stomping. Accompany me... o.k. enough. Here we go.
Wednesday P.M. (everytime you see the day and time, imagine the theme song to The Excorcist
I luckily had a half day booked so I was able to head home around 12:30 and stuff myself with pizza (a normal reaction to impending stress). After that orgy of cheese and dough, I picked up the Kid from daycare (once again I was informed he didn't nap to which I wish I could have responded with "I guess he didn't get the corporate message I sent out re: naps and why they shoud be taken) and headed to the new apartment to await the "Lights Guy". Luckily I was able to rope a friend in and her friend who is visiting from the Great White North to come by and help me wrangle the Kid in case he got some idiotic idea to chew on wires. Some wine later and a hyped up kid, our lights were installed. Incroyable. I need to take more pictures and post them soon. I LOVE MY LIGHTS. Except I was a little peeved because I had to switch the originally planned kitchen light and bedroom light. And when I say a little peeved, I was fuming on the inside. Good thing I had company because I was pretty close to my Greek Widow schtick.
Anyway, after two hours the Lights Guy and his buddy finished installing the lights. I tipped them and then threw the Kid into his stroller and headed back home. I was exhausted and I knew that the next day was going to be a marathon. I believe I passed out around 9 p.m. because I might as well go into fetal position when faced with a challenge.
Thursday morning I brought the Kid to daycare and then ran back home to start packing. I knew we had a lot to pack but I didn't really really know. I guess that's like having a kid. You know it's going to be hard but you don't really really know until you have one. Smug random parenting comment. Yes!
The Husband had to go to the new apartment and let the kitchen guys in the morning (and yes, all the pieces finally arrived! Woot!) and I got to work on our old place. Oh mother of Bruce it was a challenge. The kitchen alone took 4 hours even though I threw out so much crap weeks ago! The Kid's room wasn't so bad but our bedroom and the living room was a nightmare. About midday it became very clear that this was not going to be a fast task and it didn't help that the Husband kept popping out to do idiotic things like change our mailing address. Yes, I am being a jerk. He also headed over to the new apartment to see the progress being made on the kitchen. I also think that it is ingrained in many men to be drawn to construction sites... much like many women to shoe shops. Sexism, I haz it.
Anyway, at one point the Husband came bearing cheeseburgers and I snapped at him that I was DOING ALL THE WORK and that I was a teeny bit annoyed. Teeny meaning incredibly pissed off. So his response was to head back to the new apartment and "check" on the kitchen again. At that point, I released the Flying Monkeys, but alas, they were already packed. Later in the afternoon the Husband called and informed me that I had bought the wrong faucet for the kitchen. Of course I did. My rational response to this information "WELL THEN YOU OBVIOUSLY GAVE ME THE WRONG DETAILS!" So the Husband headed to the store and bought the right one and brought it back to the new apartment to have it installed. And how I wish I had kept the original details of what he sent me with to the store all those weeks ago to prove him wrong.
By late afternoon it became even clearer that we would not be done with the packing in one day. Oh, I'm sorry, I meant "I". The Husband came home again and placed two shirts in a box and then headed back to the new apartment. At which point I sent him a strongly worded text with positive affirmations consisting of words like "my" "foot" "your" "ass". Of course the kitchen took much longer than expected but part of me thinks the Husband lies. I think he enjoyed the new aparment in solitude; taking in the fine crown moulding, the luminous lights, the arched ceilings, the large windows... or just the fact that I wasn't there screaming "YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN?!? ARE YOU HIGH?!?" The Husband came home around 8:30 bearing pizza (listen, it's how I deal with stress) and between bites I gently put my foot on his neck, exerting pressure and explained sweetly that the movers were coming in less than 12 hours. For the next couple of hours we continued to pack. Marriage is not about keeping score. Rather, it is about working together and jointly enjoying the fruits of your labour as a team.
Boxes packed:
Me: 55
Him: 4
Yeah.
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