Sometimes You Need What You Thought You Didn't Want (how's that for insightful)

So, about three months ago I was very pregnant and trying to get out of a scorpion-infested house and into a new house before the baby was born.

Our house hadn't sold, we didn't have a new house picked out, and I wasn't getting any less pregnant.

I blame it on hormones now (what reasonable person would be this psycho?), but at the time my head could not wrap itself around the possibility that I might be having the baby while living in that house and there might not be a damn thing I could do about it.  

I was convinced (CONVINCED!) that we would be moving before the baby was born and I would not have to move with a newborn and a toddler who was just dipping his chubby little toddler toes into the waters of the Terrible Twos (he has since fully submerged).  Nope.  It was Not. Going. To Happen.

Ha!  Ha. Ha. Ha.

I told anyone who would listen that the baby was going to wait until we moved and that her first house would be our new house.  This I told as our house went under contract after six months on the market, fell out of escrow a month before my due date, went back into contract with another buyer and then all forward moving progress came to a screeching halt as all of our small town banks, surveyors, appraisers and title offices tried to coordinate things like how send emails of pictures of the house taken with a 12-year-old digital camera that required floppy discs and how to deliver documents from one department of the bank to another department that was IN THE SAME BUILDING but required someone to get out of their chair and actually walk it to someone on another floor.   

So you see, I was thinking positively.  Or more accurately, I was in complete and total denial.

But then one day I left denial behind.  And I cried.  And cried.  And realized that I likely *was* going to have this baby while we were in that house.  

Once I came to grips with this (and literally, one day I just woke up and had accepted my fate), I felt the weight lift off of my shoulders.  I felt calmer, more accepting and receptive to the daily setbacks, and ready for the baby to make her appearance.

We set up everything we'd need for her at home (I had most of it packed up because, you know, we were moving and she was going to be born after we moved, right??) and I literally kicked my feet up and caught up on Toddlers & Tiaras and Real Housewives of Orange County.  

The baby came, and guess what?  

I was So. Freaking. Happy to be in that house.

When it was time to go to the Birthing Center, I called my mom and she drove right over to stay with Jack.  Although he was living in what looked like a UPS shipping center, Jack was at a home he was familiar with (as if having a new baby sister wasn't a big enough change).  The next day, my Mother-in-Law came over and took Jack.  My mom and my MIL both kept food coming and entertained Jack while Charles continued with packing and making arrangements for the big move.  My mom would hold Claire while I showered.  We could take the kids just down the road to spend time with their 95-year-old great grandmother who might not have met Claire for weeks if we were in our new house (because who wants to pack up a little baby and toddler and drive over an hour if you don't have to - not me!). When Jack had to go to the ER the day after Claire was born to have his tummy x-rayed (he's fine, and that day is another story altogether), my MIL was able to go with Charles and help with Jack. Did I mention we had lots of help with Jack?

The week before our move there were a lot of loose ends to be tied up and Charles was extremely busy with everything.  With all of the help we had just down the road, I was able to concentrate on the new baby and rest.

When Claire was 6 days old, we moved (and for the record, moving day was a lot more exhausting than the day she was born).  Charles drove and I sat in the back with Claire.  Jack was with my mom; they were coming up later, after the movers had unloaded everything.  Charles and I were talking about everything that had been happening and we were musing over the fact that not only had everything turned out fine, but also that it worked out really, really well to be in the in that house those first few days.  The help from our moms was amazing.  In my head, I hadn't wanted it, didn't need it, would be fine without it.  In reality, it turned out to be a godsend.  

It was during this drive (which took forever, as we were in evening traffic and had to pull over once so I could nurse the baby) when I had one of those "Aha!" light bulb moments.  I realized that what I needed turned out to be exactly what I thought I didn't want.  

Another of life's lessons...learned.  

Perks to Country Living

Tonight Charles and I were discussing how this could (and should) be our last Saturday night in the country.  And we are really living it up, let me tell you - it's 9:00 PM and I am in bed, typing this, and halfway watching Charles and Jack struggle over taking off Jack's clothes for his (very late) bath. 

But really, as we realized this actually might be our last week in this house, we started talking about the things we would miss.  Not the obvious things, like pretty trees more than a century old surrounding our house or baby cows in the pasture next door.  No.  Those are not the things we are really going to miss, when it comes down to it.

We are going to miss the little perks to isolated country life - the little things we take for granted but enjoy on a daily basis.  For Charles, this means things like peeing in the back (and front!) yard and being able to walk around naked - even outside - without anyone seeing you.  For me, this means things like tossing the rotten fruit into the back pasture (and, umm, even tossing a turkey into the pond once that went bad when the power went out for several days - enjoy, fishies!) and not having to pick up dog poop.  The dog poop thing is huge...I am going to have to buy a pooper scooper and USE it (or at least Charles is)...it's been years since I last owned a pooper scooper or have had to bring little baggies with me when I take Janga out on walks. 

I don't think they'll let us light our Christmas tree on fire in the front yard in the big city (yes, we did that here, with several volunteers from the local fire department on hand - their idea - and OMG let me tell you, those things are SUPER DUPER EXTRA FLAMMABLE and burn up in no time!!).  I am pretty sure the neighbors won't let us set off fireworks at any hour of the day and night we choose and I am also pretty sure they won't be happy if we collect our weeds and other junk in a large "burn pile".  And yes, I realize that the entire last paragraph involved all of the things we won't be able to light on fire once we move.  Ha!

These things are small and the trade-off is huge (no fire ants, a Super Target and Starbucks!) but I know, even now, that I will miss pieces of our country existence every now and then.  Especially when there is rotten food in the fridge.

:::Oh...and in case you are wondering...STILL NO BABY!!!:::

Packing and Moving and LIKING It!

What a whirlwind of activity the last few weeks have brought! 

To recap the last couple of weeks and project the upcoming weeks: Charles started a new job, we signed a contract on our house (WOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOO), we signed a contract on a new house, and are closing on both houses on June 30th.  And to add to the mix: our babysitter and my mom are out of town for the next couple of weeks, I am wrapping up things at my job of over 5 years, Charles is getting geared up at his new job, we are packing, annnnnnnd I am 34 weeks pregnant.

But the real reason I am writing this post is not to whine about all of the eight million things we have going on right now but instead to express my gratitude for the timing of it all and to say something that you probably will not hear most people say: I LOVE MOVING!  :)

No, really.  I do.  This has been a long time coming and even though a lot of the packing process is not exactly my idea of a fun family activity, there is a very bright and beautiful light at the end of this tunnel and I can finally see it.

The other day I was at our new house (yay!) - signing papers - and the lady asked me when I was due.  Technically I am due July 28th but in my head, this baby is coming early, like Jack did, and I want to be prepared...and that is what I told her.

"Not very good timing!" she said (as if, you know, we just randomly decided to sell our house last month and it sold right away and we were moving this close to our due date for the fun of it).

"Actually," I told her, "at this point, this is the best possible timing I could ask for."

Because you see, if it had just taken one (or two - or three!) more weeks to sign the contract on this house, we would be moving *that* much closer to my due date and worst case scenario - moving with a newborn and a postpartum new Mama.  Not fun.

I would much rather spend the end of my third trimester packing boxes and shuttling back and forth between our current location and the "big city" to sign paperwork than even think about doing the same with a newborn in tow.  So for me, the timing is nearly perfect (completely perfect would have been selling two months ago and being settled in to our new house already, but that's not the way the cookie crumbled).

So that brings us to the packing part. 

We have a lot to pack.  I have done the official math (see below):

2600 square foot home + garage + barn + 15 acres = a Lot of stuff to pack.

June 30th closing date - today's date of June 16th = not a lot of Time to pack.

So basically, every second when I am not working (or sleeping or eating or entertaining a two-year-old or, umm, blogging...) is spent packing.  Box after box after box of clothes, books, toys and kitchen utensils are packed, taped, labeled and stacked in the appropriate room.  Bins full of exciting things like diapers and postpartum girdles (that's right - a girdle - you watch this belly shrink down to it's original size in no time after this next kid!) are organized and stacked so I can see what is in them and access them easily should we still be unpacking when the baby is born.  Things I don't want to deal with when we move - like where Jack's clothes will go between moving and buying him a dresser - are being addressed and solved with genius solutions (me being the genius, of course...hehe) like putting them into a plastic bin with drawers that I can tuck into his closet in the new house.

The dumpster is being filled with junk.  The donation boxes are so heavy I cannot lift them.  The stack of stuff to be returned to my Mom's house is growing but neatly contained in a Thomas the Train duffel bag.

I am telling you - I AM ORGANIZED and I AM HAVING A GOOD TIME PACKING!!

Maybe it's the memory of my last big move - from California to Texas - that has inspired this fit of Extreme Organization.  I am pretty sure that process started off on a good foot.  But I do remember a cry for "All Hands on Deck!" at the eleventh hour when I realized that we only had about eight hours to get out of the house and there were odds and ends laying all over the house without a box to go in.  And I really remember unpacking those boxes a few months later in Texas.  Let's just say that if you pack a box of candles, cat food, socks and books and ship it in a moving van from California to Texas in July it is very likely that the candles will melt all over everything else in the box.  Lesson learned.

Maybe it's the fact that we're downsizing to a smaller home and a smaller lot (smaller by about 14.90 acres).  We don't have ROOM for all of this junk.  This is a great time to trash or donate 50% of the contents in this home.  I mean seriously, do I need to take the statue of the mating donkeys (yes you read that right) that I bought in Cancun six years ago??    Do I even want to take that with me?  If I have to ask myself twice the answer is probably no (but on a side note here - I can't bring myself to throw that giant marble monstrosity away - yet). 

Maybe it's my extreme gratitude and the realization that this really could not come at a better time and we are getting exactly what we wanted...a new house before the baby is born.  All of my backaches and out-of-breathness and frequent potty breaks pale in comparison to the end result here...new home, new baby - all in a matter of a few short weeks! 

Or maybe it's the nesting instincts kicked into high gear.  I'm 34 weeks pregnant!  I have a baby on the way!  I want to be settled in.  Badly.  So badly, it consumes me and even right now I am thinking, "what should I pack next?" 

The moment I am waiting for is the moment when I sit on the couch in the new house and put my feet up and...have nothing to do (OK, stop laughing already!).  Even though I know that moment will likely never come, it is my inspiration.

Yesterday I had an appointment at the Birthing Center and the midwife sternly told me, "No moving boxes around or heavy lifting!" and I assured her I am not doing any heavy lifting (ask Charles, who moved about eight large boxes of books from the bed last night).  I am not lifting boxes, I am not reaching up into the cabinets to pack dishes or crawling around in the cabinets on the ground to pull out all of the baking supplies I never use that need to be packed. 

I am leaving that for Charles. 

This leaves me a bit worried because he operates on an alternate plane of reality where he thinks everything is going to take half as long, or be twice as easy, as it really is.  I cannot tell you how many times I have told him, "We have so much junk, I think this is going to be a bigger project than we realize," and he responds with, "It's really not that bad."  This from the man who has not finished the one and only packing project he has started - several days ago - and who apparently has not ever peeked into the giant cabinets that are in our garage that came with the house when we bought it (hundreds of Christmas decorations from the 70's, anyone??).

So, maybe there will be some boxes packed with candles and cat food after all.  But not if I can help it.  I will keep on truckin' with a smile on my face and keep dreaming about that day in the very near future when I put my feet up and think, "OK, I'm all moved in...now what do I do?"

OK...I actually just envisioned that scene in my mind and, no joke, it was interrupted - even in my fantasy world!! - by Jack yelling "MAMA!" at me and demanding some sort of Todder-demand.  :::SIGH:::