The 5 Stages of Moving

We recently moved from one house to a better house.  Keep in mind, it had only been 5 years since we had moved into the first house so this was supposed to be easy...

Pre-move:  Our home is  beautiful, functional, and a lovely place to life.

Stage 1.  Make the decision.
Do you want to move from here to there?  Yeah?  Okay!  Stage 1 is complete.

Stage 2. Lying to yourself.
Oh, this won't be so bad.  We just did this and child #2 was in infant!  How could it possibly be harder than that?  I mean, come on!!  Let's make a plan and get everything fixed up and get rid of everything we don't need or want to move.


Stage 3.  PANIC
AAAAHHHHH!!!  THIS HOUSE IS A DUMP!  WHEN DID WE BECOME HOARDERS!!!  HOW COULD WE HAVE LIVED IN THIS CRAP HOLE SO LONG!  NO ONE WILL EVER BUY THIS HOUSE AND WE WILL NEVER EVER MOVE!!!

Approximately 48 hours into moving.

Stage 4. Resignation:

Throw away/donate all of your non-essential items.  Use the reasoning that you never liked x, y, z in the first place.  It feels so freeing!  Now you start donating absolutely everything that you don't want to move.  The ultimate stage is when you donate car loads of items to charities and don't even want receipts.  

What?  Your Goodwill isn't in a meadow with this dress code?

Stage 5.  GTFO

You are long past the stage of caring about what needs to happen in that old shit hole.  You have a new house to fill up with your....oh... couch and three boxes of kids toys....hmmmm...well, just call it minimalist design and pretend your new philosophy is that you are free from all earthly possessions.

Now, let's all say it together.  "WE ARE NEVER MOVING AGAIN-EVER, AND WE MEAN IT THIS TIME."

Ta-Daaaaa!!

It was just like any other day.  Big sister was at school, little monkey was home with me.  Little Monkey is what we call a velcro child, and was particularly sticky that day.  It was one of those days where you really just want a second to think, not play blocks, not play hide and seek, not read one of those charming children's books, not talk about which My Little pony is the silliest, just take a pee, read a book, listen to some music.
That was not happening at all.  It was like a horror movie.  A super adorable but infuriating horror movie.  Everywhere I turned, there she was.  Everywhere I looked, I was greeted with a chubby, dirty little fist waving at me. 

I tried everything.  I tried doing laundry ("Let me help you, Mommy!")  I tried cooking "OOOH, LET ME HELP YOU MOMMY!")  I tried letting the Aquabats entertain her for a few minutes.  Then, I snuck off to the bathroom.

It's Like This...all the time.

Now, as every mom knows, the bathroom is one of the few times in life when you should be left alone but you never will be.  "This time will be different" I told myself as I locked the door, and sat down. 
I noticed the silence first-as in the TV had been turned off.  Then the door flew open and my sweet, adorable, cloying, clinging daughter made jazz hands and said "Ta-Daa!!!!  Don't worrry, Mommy!  I'm here!" and laughed.  You know what?  I did, too.  It is one of my favorite days to look back on, and we actually had a blast for the rest of the day.  I gave in, I let her cling, and then, after lunch, she looked at me, smiled and said "I need to go take a nap.  I'm worn out."  She got her nap, I got some time to myself, and it was everything I had hoped it would be.