Sweet, sweet Internet. How I’ve missed you. We’re here at our new house and we are LOVING IT. Last Thursday night I hit a point where, upon looking around my house and seeing just what we were up against – the boxes stacked so high I couldn’t see over them, the piles of garbage bags, the stacks of, like, shit – I wondered why the hell we’d ever considered moving. There was so much work ahead of us and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and forget about everything.
But we’re five days into our new house and we already feel at home. We’re not fully unpacked and there’s still a lot to do but it just feels like home.
The move was a disaster, from start to finish. The movers were pissed at the amount of stuff we have and were prickly pears for the entire day. We ran out of room in the truck and had to have a second truck come that took two and a half hours to arrive.
The movers flatly refused to take anything that wasn’t packed in a box, forcing Dave and I to pack our cars and a trailer hitch and make trips out to our new house – in another town – and dump our stuff on the sun porch and in the backyard until we got the keys. We ended up making five trips back and forth, and because it was a holiday weekend here the gas prices had skyrocketed. It sucked.
The move lasted well into the evening and once the movers left Dave, his dad, his stepmother, his brother, his brother’s girlfriend and I dove into it. We worked until midnight trying to make sense of the chaos, crashed, woke up and started again on Saturday.
Knowing the kids were coming home that night, we worked all day setting up their rooms, the kitchen, the entertainment area (read: TV and DVD player) and a toy area. My dad, my brother, Dave’s dad and his stepmother came over and between the six of us we made a lot of headway.
We were disappointed but not surprised to discover during the day that several pieces of our furniture were either scratched or damaged – given the way things went on Moving Day, I kind of expected stuff to get a bit fucked up. We’re in the process of taking care of that with the owner of the moving company.
We’ve worked our asses off since we got here and it’s starting to look like an actual house, as opposed to a warehouse. The kids love it – Oliver took a few days to settle in but he’s right as rain now. Julia loves the house and tells me so about a dozen times a day. And Dave and I…we’re happier than pigs in shit. We knew when we saw this house that it was The One, and it is.
I’ll never catch up on all of your blogs but I’ll be by as soon as I can, in between unpacking and hanging pictures and rearranging my kitchen cupboards for the umpteenth time. One thing I gotta tell you is the stuff the previous owners left behind – five fugly, funky wrought iron bar stools with pink seats, a shitload of cleaning products, a giant wooden table for the back patio…and a Getting Started kit of Viagra nestled in the back of the bathroom vanity.