A tale of two houses

Do you know what the definition of insanity should be? Trying to move with a very active 6-year-old and a fussy 3 month old baby. Even more insane is when you're trying to move everything yourself over the course of a couple of weeks instead of just packing it all up and doing it in one or two days. Originally I thought that it would be easier since I could take things that were already packed and get them out of the way. However, that just means that half of what I need is at each house, and never in the house that I need it to be at in the moment. In hindsight, I might have been incorrect in my assessment of what it would take to move.

This weekend was the final push and everything is officially under the same roof. Of course there are 14 million boxes and my whole extended family running around so it is about as chaotic as you would imagine. There is a distinct possibility that at this exact moment, I am hiding in a closet in order to write. I wasn't even really looking to write anything profound, just get out whole sentences that weren't me trying to figure out what to feed the hungry people around me demanding to be fed.

Not that I am not grateful to those people, because I am. There is absolutely no way that I could have moved without the enormous amount of help from the people that came to pitch in. I am just also incapable of making any more decisions at the moment, even if it's just what we want to be delivered, pizza or Chinese.  So I'm going to sit here in my quiet closet for five more minutes and do nothing in the glorious silence before I rejoin the land of the living. I'd stay a bit longer, but I forgot my glass of wine, and I'm a girl with priorities so I guess I shall have to head back out for now!