Tie Dye Scarves for Curtains

Phew, it's done. We've moved. And it only took:

• one giant tractor trailer
  
• three very sturdy and superhuman moving men
  
• multiple update-about-Eric phone calls to my funny, hospital-cafeteria-savvy mom and dad
  
• two extremely able-bodied and overtly vivacious in-laws
  
• one gentle and generous sister-in-law
  
• one caffeinated and adrenalized husband to get us here. (I was no help at all. Because I was an emotionally Divided Nation on Tuesday through Thursday, I was all but exempt from my typical duties as wife, mother, and mover/shaker. Thank you all for letting me bow out of so much grunt work. I promise to lift heavy children for the next 12 years to make up for my recent slackage.)

Okay, so I wasn't a complete sloth and I did contribute to the effort leading up to our move. The day of, however, just ran around me like a boa constrictor. In the end we caravan-ed and arrived in a whole different state. With not much awareness (scary) on my part, I did manage to: drive two children, a dog, and lots of crap that wouldn't fit into the gigantic moving truck four hours to our new destination. I did: keep driving after 7 month old decided to fill up the airwaves with her bone-chilling Adam Lambert wails for 67 minutes straight. I did: remember to buy a pink leash and black & white collar for Sadie since her others were packed. I did: eat lots of peppermint patties and Skittles (what baby weight?) to keep me renewed and happy.

So, we arrived late late late on Tuesday night. We got the keys to the new place from the landlord's "contact" person in the middle of the night, in the pitch-black driveway. I'm sure the neighbors were so excited to have the Shriver Cartel shuffle into town.

We then proceeded to (ill-preparedly) camp out in the new house. Did I mention we were without furniture, blankets/beds/pillows/mattress like things whatsoever? And there we find ourselves, all four grown adults (Andy, me, Nammy, & Pop), in a predicament. Well after midnight, we're stumbling around a strange house to find that perfect spot of carpet to snuggle up to. I'm talking nothing but baby blankets and bath towels. To make things that much sweeter, none of us knew how to work the new house's thermostat and for some reason it was preset at "POLAR BEARS NEED LESS AIR CONDITIONING THAN THIS." I was a skoshe cold so ended up, at some point in the early morning frost, grabbing my sleeping baby from her warm nest of attic insulation and coffee filters (kidding) and made her snuggle with me since the twelve inches of baby blanket fabric weren't cutting the chill of those early stages of frostbite. That was fun. I was glad to learn how to reset the thermostat the following morning. One button. One finger. Nevermind that we could have just turned the heat on instead of the air.

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24 HOURS LATER:

My husband and I just got back from Shopper's and we both concur that it doesn't feel like we've moved. It just feels like we're on vacation. You know how you run to the store to stock up on goodies for the week while you're away? Letting yourself go ahead and get those smoked almonds, red wine, fun cheese, and extra case of G2 because you're on VACATION! Our shwooped bodies have no idea we are not going to "go home" but are in fact, already at home, in a new territory that we must learn before 495 eats us as its prey.

Oh but in case you're wondering.... yes, we do like the new house in Virginia very much. It's quite comfy and lotsa cozy already. Be certain I will name it, write about it, and photograph it until it gives me the finger and threatens me with a chihuahua and a restraining order. But I'm too spent to do that tonight. I'm guessing by Sunday I'll be over my veneer wall of sarcasm (never happen) and into an unhealthy lust to get acquainted with this new land of abbreviated merging lanes and old school volvos. Looking forward.