This Is Why Moving Sucks

I wish I could say that moving is completed, but it is not.  We closed on the house a week ago Thursday and began bringing in the first pieces of our crap that day.  It wasn't much, but never go to your new house with an empty vehicle.  The next day Hubby parked at the new house as five different representatives arrived for their appointments to spray for bugs, etc.  We used my mother's garage as a storage shed for the new appliances and furniture purchased over the past few weeks.  With just Hubby, Son, and myself it took two days to empty those items plus a few extra that my mom threw in for good measure, like Grandma's dining room table, Grandpa's dresser and tool chest, and six cinder blocks stored in her basement that I mentioned would be ideal for a strawberry tower I saw on Pinterest.  Two days.  We were pooped and exhausted.

The big move was scheduled for this past Saturday.  In our planning for this day we had asked the guys who had moved items for our furniture store if they would be willing to help.  They agreed which was awesome because we have a lot of heavy stuff.  As Saturday approached they never returned any of our confirmation calls.  A friend had also offered a box truck from her work.  This wasn't a set-in-stone deal and we realized we may have to actually chuck up some money and rent a moving van.  Up until Monday she led us to believe the truck should be available which was great because extra funds were quickly drying up. 

On Wednesday everything fell to shit.  The moving guys still had not returned our calls and the moving truck was officially not available.  It was too late for us to make arrangements for a rental.  A panicked plea was posted to Facebook asking for help.  My most wonderful and fabulous sister-in-law stepped forward offering to bring her four kids, two of which are handy teenagers.  This was the weekend my stupid brother had planned to be out of the state with his stupid friends.  My other stupid brother who had single handedly moved me into this last house was magically nowhere to be seen.  Can't say as I blame him.  My closest friends had long ago said they were otherwise preoccupied.  This was going to be a piecemeal operation.

I took off work early… oh did I mention that I have been working through all of this mayhem with nary a day off????  Uh yeah, the big database rollout arrived June first and not only have I been working everyday, but I have also been putting in overtime.  So on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday we packed both vehicles to deliver what pieces we could  move on our own.

Saturday morning arrived and it was predicted to be blazing hot.  Yippee.  A ragtag group arrived at my door and between the various SUV's and our pickup with flatbed trailer we made three agonizing trips to the new house, dumping the greatest portion into the garage.  Our moving help morphed through the day as different people popped in and out as their timed allowed.  SIL stuck it out for the long haul.  She pointed out that my tiny family of three had far more stuff to move than her huge family of six she moved last summer.  Of course we do!  My tiny two bedroom, one bath bungalow was cramped living quarters for three people as the basement was basically storage for two closed businesses, our miniature grocery store style pantry, and the contents of two combined households of two diehard packrats.

By 9pm when we waved goodbye to the last of our helpers, we plopped down at a fast food restaurant.  Did no one bother to tell me that my hair was literally standing on end?  The humidity really did a number on my head.  We stumbled home in a stage well past exhaustion.  Had the couches not been already unboxed and arranged in the living room I'm pretty sure we would have slept on the floor because there was no way any of us had the ability to assemble our beds. 

After a quick nap we found ourselves sitting on the front porch at midnight absorbing the quiet of our new neighborhood.  Several times in the past 24 hours I have landed on the porch for a break.  It reminds me of a vacation home as all I can hear are birds and crickets.  Rarely in the middle of the day will someone walk past.  This is a huge difference from the bungalow nine houses away from a busy park.

We managed to finally go to sleep and in the morning I plucked through enough boxes to find my way to scramble eggs and make toast.  Wisely we set up our beds before venturing out for the afternoon as Sunday was much hotter and muggier than Saturday.  Between the heat and our aching bodies we managed to load up the items from the backyard shed and a few small pieces of furniture before tossing in the towel and heading home.  A quick stop at the grocery store to pick up chips for next Saturday's gathering and we realized we hadn't figured out dinner for the night.  We bought lettuce and tomatoes for BLT's.  This is really starting to feel like camping. Just as we pulled into the driveway big raindrops began to fall and then the skies opened up.  We scrambled to remove the furniture from the truck.  As I write, both vehicles still have items inside.  The rain never let up although i will say it was a beautiful summer thunderstorm complete with earth rattling thunder.  Again I was parked on the front porch enjoying the peace.

Remember I'm the sick bitch who enjoys packing?  I also enjoy UNpacking.  Unfortunately I do not have the time or energy to do anything.  Most of what I need is buried somewhere in the garage.  The few stray boxes that made their way to their designated rooms have been helpful but still lacking.  I found most of my clothes except what I regularly wear to work.  If they don't like today's attire then I will gladly offer that they can send me home… for the week!

There is STILL another load waiting for us at the old house.  I don't know when we will retrieve it.  All of us are too tired to even contemplate the problem.

When Shopping For a House

A friend told me about her sister who needed to move almost immediately after purchasing a house because they had failed to consider the school district.  They landed a gorgeous home in one of the shittiest school districts in all of St. Louis.  It's a total no-brainer but if you have preschool aged children then maybe it's something that missed your check list.

We had a similar no-brainer.  We know perfectly well the state of decline my former hometown has suffered.  Our new house is in a gorgeous neighborhood but we are realistic in understanding that there is a level of crime not so far away.  Yet it wasn't until we started discussing an alarm company to reduce our home owner's insurance that we suddenly noticed that absolutely every single house in the neighborhood has a little security sign in their front yard.  Had this been anywhere on our radar we may have bid differently (lower) for our house.

I watch the old lady across the street of my current (soon-to-be former) house struggle with the hike up the stairs to her house.  She is literally perched on a hill with 12 steps to her front door.  This was an important aspect to keep in mind as hubby's knees are in bad shape.  I kept a close eye on entry steps as well as interior stairs.  We landed a lovely mid-century ranch with only one single step to get inside the house.  There is a basement but that won't be part of the regular living space so that doesn't matter.  I do wonder, though, if my neighbor ever considered how treacherous those steps would be in her twilight years?  Or did anyone think about the challenge of mowing those steep hills?  If I owned one of those houses I would totally dig up the yard and landscape in a manner that wouldn't have me chasing a mower down the hill and then pushing it back up.

Parking is something that has never been something I put much thought into for any of my homes.  We always had a driveway.  This house has a shared driveway with the house next door.  On top of that, the street parking is so horrid that it's close to impossible to entertain without completely displacing all of my neighbors.  The new house has a private driveway as well as ample street parking for my visiting friends.  This has never been an issue, nor do I think it will be ever in the future, but I think it's worth considering when you find the house of your dreams - exactly where do your visitors have to park?  Even if you don't expect to do much entertaining, just having the visiting nurse to exchange your oxygen tank my be an issue.

My brother and SIL discovered that the showers in their new house posed a problem when SIL's mom came to visit for Christmas.  Her mother is in a wheelchair and was completely unable to bathe herself in a house with three bathrooms!  For a young family, having enclosed tubs was sufficient, but if and injury or visitor with limitations arrive, you could really appreciate having at least one walk-in shower.  That may not be a reason to pass up a house, but it could be something to consider when remodeling time comes around.

I'm sure wise readers could add to this list!  What suggestions would you make to a home shopper?

My Little Boy

I figured it was time to update my blog backgrounds and dug up an old header.  That kid?  He's not so little any more and it makes me a little weepy.  We are preparing to move out of our house and it strikes me multiple times how much time has passed in six little years. 

Ian had just turned ten when we moved in.  He was going to start fifth grade in a new school in a new district.  He was (and is) such an outgoing person that I knew he would adjust quickly.  He did. 

Despite having gone through the teen years twice already with his siblings and knowing that you just cannot predict the future, I am still surprised how far off base I was in guessing what/where/how he would be at 16.  Soooo far off.  And yet, like his siblings, he is exactly what/where/how he should be.

The one thing I got right was his size.  As a newborn I looked at his feet and compared him to a puppy, guessing that those large paws were indicative of a tall man one day.  Today he teeters over six feet and I swear every time he returns from dad's house he is an inch taller.  I don't know that he will reach the 6'4" heights of my brothers and I'm pretty sure my nephew will sprout pass him, but he is definitely the tallest of my children.  I have to look up to see his hazel eyes and the twerp enjoys every second of it.  He definitely relishes being taller than his big brother.

Our new home requires another change in schools and a return to our previous school district.  He's not happy about leaving his friends but social media and a future driver's license breaks that distance quickly.  He is excited about his new school, his new bedroom, and the Junior Man Cave.  We were honest that the basement was going to end up being mostly his domain.  Hubby's knees just are not going to make the trip down those stairs more than necessary so we are setting up the living room as his media center and Ian is getting the basement.  BOOYAH!

The past year has already proved that Ian has developed upper body strength and he will be an asset as we lug all of our crap to the new house.  His understanding of electronics will mean he will be vital in getting the TV's, game systems,  and audio wiring in place.  Maybe if I had put my head into it a little harder I could have foreseen these traits coming to fruition.  Instead I am in awe.

He is an amazing young man, and "man" is the right word.  What the hell happened to my little boy?

I Remember The Storm of 1926

Isn't it funny to listen to "old" people talk about back in the day?  You're already following where I'm going with this question aren't you?

I was a teenager in the 80's and thought it was ridiculous how people would go on and on about storms 20, 30, 40 years prior.  Telling me about the horrific snow storm of 1950-something may as well have been discussing something as long ago as an 1920's event or the 1904 San Fransisco earthquake.  Ancient freaking history.

Why do old people do that?

Multiple times I have reminded people how the circumstances of weather following drought this year is exactly how the Flood of 93 came to being.  1993.  I talk about it as if it happened two or three years ago.  It is so incredibly fresh in my memory.  In 1992 my friend and I walked to an island in the Missouri River.  WALKED. The water was the lowest either of us had ever seen and without getting our feet wet, we stepped over the little trickle onto the island.  Last year I posted pictures of my son doing exactly the same thing. 

In 1993 I visited the same park where the river was out of its banks and flooding the park which was impossible to imagine considering the height of the banks.  They are almost cliff-like with a significant, dangerous drop to the water below.

Or let's discuss the Blizzard of '82.  I remember the night it started snowing, not so much the following days.  I probably knew from the snowfall at night that there wouldn't be any school so I surely slept in.  This was a mere two years after moving to St. Louis from Oregon so seeing the town flip out over several inches of snow was laughable, but definitely not memorable.  But that night, the sudden accumulations, THAT was memorable.  But let's get this straight, it was THIRTY years ago!  And I remember it as clear as if it happened last night.  My mom and I had gone to Venture... what, you don't know what Venture is?  Oh, yeah, that's a store like K-Mart that closed... well probably twenty years ago.  In fact, K-Mart now lives in the building where I was shopping that night.  It was expected to snow that night, it may have started with flurries as we walked into the store.  While my mother is a shopping pro and can go at it for hours upon hours, I'm pretty sure we were not there for more than one hour.  By the time we left the store the parking lot was a genuine mess and several inches had to be cleared from the car.  It was stunning how much snow had fallen in such a short time.  Now I don't exactly remember the ride home but it surely blurred into the many times I've ridden in the car with my mom driving in the snow.  Even to this day I get a tutorial about how to drive in the snow, reminders of pumping my brakes, and no sudden movements.  Every. single. time.  By the way, when you drive in the fog, do not use your brights.

So here we are decades later and I am able to talk about ancient history in first person as if they happened only yesterday, but do not ask me where I left my glasses.  My memory is shit.

My House Is Amazing

Actually my house is a maze... of boxes.  Of course I did not plan this well so it isn't a cool maze with tunnels, twists, turns, and deadends.  No, it's an old person maze with consideration of natural walking paths and not blocking the view of the TV or access to the bathroom.  The worst of it is you have to turn sideways to leave the living room or enter my son's bedroom.

We are a week away from closing and two weeks away from moving.  Very soon we will be living out of suitcases.  This weekend I plan to empty cupboards and cabinets.  I had up to this point packed away all of the extra stuff or things I knew we wouldn't need - like five boxes of cake mix and the new "guest" towels.  Now I'm going to narrow down the the absolute essentials like salt and toothpaste to be left out or sitting in an opened box on the counter.

For all of the people who detest and hate packing - I am the sick asshole who enjoys it.  Maybe I should do this for a living?  hmmmmm