Guess what? I hate moving. Really. It’s a pain and gets in the way of more interesting things.
Sure I’ll be glad to be in a new home, and new places are fun once you get there. I just don’t like the process it takes to do that.
Especially when it takes away from my work time and means I don’t have my husband at home. Neither of those is good for my state of mind, which some say is pretty crazy to begin with.
But for now, when we don’t know just how soon we’ll be moving, I think I have some parts under decent control.
Parenting’s tough, of course, but that’s a balance I have to deal with all the time anyhow. The lack of any sort of relief or help is hard, but not so bad, as I’ve said before.
Packing I try to do for about an hour a day, getting all the stuff we don’t need for daily life put in boxes.
I’m a little shorter on sleep than usual too. That’s because I keep staying up trying to get things done while I have complete peace and quiet, and no one waiting for me to go to bed. After all, baby’s going to wake me up whenever she needs me anyhow.
I’m trying not to overdo that part. Went to bed at a more normal hour last night, which I think helped some.
The hardest part has been house hunting. It’s hard to do that alone, or rather, from a distance and even with relatives willing to watch the kids so I can look faster. A part of that is just being comfortable where I am right now. It’s a nice neighborhood and we have lots of friends. Not the easiest thing to give up, considering how long it took us to really settle in here in the first place.