Most Painful Move

It was painful but we survived.  Perhaps our moving muscles are just so out of shape because we have lived here longer than anywhere else.  It's been almost four years and in that time we have  doubled both in children and stuff.

Also complicating the situation point B is still to be determined. Right now our stuff is comfortably waiting in a storage unit while we are comfortably squeezing into my parent's basement apartment.  We decided after all the headache of trying to sell our home for so long it might be wise to "hold our cards" awhile, especially considering the dropping real estate values in MI. It will be fun and simple living down here with lots of time for outings, field trips, and hanging out with Oma and Opa.

I think the lowest point of moving week was the day the stomach flu hit. My mom was the hero that day and packed up what remained in the house. She came back and immediately helped clean up after all the sick children. All the while I was unmoved from the couch with my own bucket.

Paul's parents were also heroic in their timely visit. All week the kids were fed, cared for and entertained allowing me to focus fully on sorting, packing and boxing. The kids were having so much fun that I was able to pack up their surroundings without much protest.

But the biggest hero of them all was Paul. I can't remember seeing him work so hard. He just strapped on a back support belt and ungrudgingly carried away load after load. He suggested visualizing this move in units of labor and when all is settled in at point B there would be a total of 1,000 units of labor expended. Right now I suppose we are at about 400 units of labor, most of which was accomplished by Paul. I feel guilty because I know all that canning I did added to the labor. But Paul was uncomplaining and has instead been fantasizing and maybe only half joking about a career in manual labor.

But before all the work began and even before our house was under contract we had planned a road trip to CA.  As we loaded into the car Paul handed me a print out of President Monson's talk Finding Joy in the Journey.  I kind of chuckled at it since we were already 3 hours off from our estimated departure time and the kids were clambering for snacks even before we backed out of the drive way.  We determined the trip would be fun, we would find joy in the journey, even the hours of driving to our destination.  Before we reached our destination however, we received the fateful call from our realtor with news of an offer on our home.  

As we continued our driving journey we discussed the broader journey that awaited us.  I would be lying if I didn't add those miles were filled with tears, excitement and frustration.  Paul once again advised me to read the talk and I have continued to read it several times as I have struggled with the transition and uncertainty that awaits us.  But I have now determined to let go of the control freak inside of me and instead enjoy each day during this transition.  And as long as the stomach flu does not hit again I will from now on call it our great adventure.