Revenge of the lists

Things are in a state of stressballs around here. It's all happy and constructive stressballs, but the effect is still about the same. Trying to round up all of our belongings and wrangle them into boxes is proving about as fun as it sounds. Trying to change health and auto insurance, arrange moving logistics, determine whether Mr Renn has an adequate wardrobe for a non-scrubs job (and he HATES buying clothes), secure malpractice and disability insurance, and try not to suffocate at the thought of paying for all of that PLUS making payments on all those implacable student loans.  Lean years ahead folks, (and weren't those lean years behind?)
(Oh, and a wedding next weekend, with another July 7)

And despite how tricky I expect this move to be, I'm antsy to get it going.  I'm excited to open boxes and see things I've been missing.  I'm excited in a twisted way to figure out exactly how outrageous my cookbook collection has become.  Mr Renn and I are both anxious to be able to invite people over for dinner parties again.   And to get our food storage assessed and growing again.  And to get our own grocery ads, and generally just have our own address.

It will take a good long while to get totally settled, we left most of our furniture in PA and our picky selves will be starting over on a whisper thin budget.  Craigslist is my friend, or will be once I'm not longer scolded for looking with "we don't want to have to move that."  So let's get moved and figure out exactly what we need (besides more bookshelves, that will be a given forever more) and get our house in order.  I want a home-base solid enough that we have the resources to be useful to people besides ourselves.

It could happen.

What stresses you out the most about moving?  Clearly for me it's packing with 3 small sick kids and knowing I'll be living in an essentially unfurnished space for months after we're there.

But but but

My kids will have a yard on a quiet street to transform into a whole world.  I should be able to keep tabs on their whereabouts with considerably less effort than it takes now.  I'll have dedicated space to sand and paint and otherwise recreate furniture as my budget allows, and we'll be able to park both vehicles in the garage for the first time ever.  Snowy winter mornings won't seem nearly so onerous.   Renn's work will be so close by that we'll get at least 15 more hours with him every week.    There is so much to be excited about.



And in the meantime I have a Sir O who, even when sick, forages in the yard a picks a bouquet for me once or twice a day.  There are always just enough moments like these to make me believe he really is my child and really will be the best of company forevermore.