We Like to Move It

It's that time of year: the time when my favorite neighbors have already packed up and moved out and I proceed to start freaking out about our own move. The time when the Man goes into planning hyperdrive, and I start purging everything in sight. The time when the kids decide to immediately trash whatever it is that I've just cleaned and I proceed to lose my ever-loving-mind. The time when I realize that somehow, even though we live in an RV, we have amassed a ridiculous amount of stuff (most of it hiding in Bee's bed) including but not limited to four (count them: four) coolers, dozens of books, a slab of marble (why?), at least ten pairs of shoes that no longer fit anyone (at least right now), an outdoor table with four mismatched chairs (one of them missing an arm), a self-made paver patio, and a garden (no clue how we're getting rid of that).

These are the children I'm driving crazy.
Or they're driving me crazy.
One of those things.

These days people like to ask me questions about how our move plans are going, and I laugh and I laugh and I laugh...until they start to back away slowly while surreptitiously calling 911 so that the cops can come get me and hand me over to someone capable of putting me in a straight jacket and a room with white padded walls. I thought we couldn't top the logistical challenges of moving during Christmas and birthday week--I was wrong. I thought doing a move while the Man finished out his last TDY was upping my game sufficiently--it was merely preparing me for this. I thought many things that were probably wrong, but I will say this (and pray I'm not jinxing us): at least I'm not pregnant this time.

Potentially enough children already this move.

Why, you ask (or don't--if you've already talked to me lately), is this move so logistically complicated? One: Corona. Moving on. Two: we don't have a house lined up yet because pet policies no longer work in our favor evidently (someone call PETA) and finding housing so near DC during a pandemic is a pain in the tush. Three: we're still trying to off load the RV on some unsuspecting adventurer (again, this is harder to do during "these uncertain times"). Four: we have a storage unit will 75% of our crap (it was 90% of our crap before we started accumulating the aforementioned items) that is two hours away from us, a storage unit that my husband can't take stuff to because it's out of county and coughCOVID-19travelbancoughcough.

I'm sensing a theme.

Guess who's not bothered by coronavirus or moving?
That's right: the bears.

Anyway, as I've pointed out to those who have asked, yes, logistically, this move has not been my favorite, BUT, all joking aside, we are doing alright. One of the good things about this being our seventh(ish) move is that I know from previous experience a few things.

I look at Trigger's happy face, and it makes me happy too.
He's not happy right now though because
the Man is forcing pills down him for an upset stomach.
I've cleaned up enough dog barf this week.

The first thing I know is that God has always provided a home for us. Sometimes it is a very nice house with a lovely view. Sometimes it is a well worn older house with permanent spider webs between the storm windows. This last time it was an RV. Still a roof over our heads, beds to sleep in, and more than enough for which to say thank you.

This child is never bothered by anything.
Except by me throwing away any paper she has ever touched
with a pen or pencil. Ever. Even as a scribble.

The second thing I know is that all the move details will come together and everything will get done. It may not get done my way, and it may not get done on my time line, but it will (emphasis: WILL) get done. So I can stress out about it or I can do what I can do, take deep breaths where I need to take breaths, drink the coffee, eat the chocolate, and wait it out.

Did I mention we were also given a porch for the RV?
Which I love, but definitely one more thing that will have to vacate the premises.

Third, these last few weeks are precious time to make those last memories, enjoy friends who have blessed us, and make sure we say goodbye well--and if I let the freak out run the show, I miss out on that. And that hurts more people than just myself.

This, right here, I'm going to miss.

So, with those three things in mind, I'm sleeping just fine at night. And trying not to spend the next five and a half weeks driving everyone around me nuts. And continuing to enjoy where we are now for as long as we are here. But if anyone needs a well-loved fifth wheel, I know someone who's selling. And the sooner you buy it from us, the saner I'll be.