Nightmare would be an understatement. Andrew's moving buddy fell through and his work couldn't spare anyone, so...Andrew moved all 4,000 pounds of our belongings by himself. I should have snapped a picture of him moving the couch and my gigantic dining table (Conan?), but I was probably trying to keep my 2 rambunctious boys out of the way and I was probably just a tad stressed. Just a tad. Thank God our neighbor saw Andrew and came over to help him move the rest of the stuff out of our old house. That sped things up a bit. By nightfall, we were exhausted, the boys were cranky, Maddox's bed broke, I had no idea where anything was...you get the idea.
Day 2: Andrew had to return to work. Jude's crib fell apart, our dishwasher leaked water all over the kitchen floor, our cabinet knob came off, our dryer receptacle popped out the wall, our cable didn't work, the shower rod fell on my head (twice)...let's just stop there. Let's not even talk about how I cried and cried about how I missed my old house and neighborhood...or about how I boiled some noodles on high on my stove and the eye wouldn't turn off (it finally did, by the way). I just knew the house was going to burn down.
Ok, let's breathe.
The weekend came, the problems (well, the big ones) got fixed, I unpacked many boxes (only 4 to go!), I got in a break (coffee, girl time and thrift shops, oh yea), and we discovered that having a privacy fenced backyard is pretty awesome. The boys had a blast in their little pool, we all enjoyed a strawberry banana smoothie and as Andrew said, "Hey, I can pee in my backyard now!"
It's the little things in life, I suppose.
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