I am in moving hell. Have you heard me say that before? Because, this will be my fourth move in the last six years. Three babies, four moves, six years. I am cooked. So hopefully this next stop is our last, because despite the fact that Matt had weird high school sex in my new basement with his sneakers on, I am DETERMINED to settle in and make it our happy home. I CAN NOT MOVE AGAIN. You heard it here first,
I also get kinda crazy during the moving process. I hate being in limbo so managing my anxiety requires a lot of unnecessary forward movement. Oh, you think I should pack all my stuff up and move it all on moving day with one big, efficient trip? Well instead I am going to make seven thousand tiny trips over the next few weeks where I obsess about wall-hanging placement and shoe storage, OKAY?! It’s what works for me, so back off.
And this move, I am getting rid of shit. I am usually a little slow to let things go but this go around I am like, GET IT OUT! ALL OF IT! I DON’T WANT ANY OF IT! And then last night I started to cry because I realized I have thrown-out/sold/donated a HEAVY majority of the kid’s toys. Like, instead of lightening the load I now need to go shopping, because they are toyless.
And I did go to the mall on Friday, but it was to get second and third holes pierced in my ears. Because, that’s what you do when you are crazy. You get overwhelmed with your three kids and your move and your house renovation and to cope you say, “Fuck it. I’m gunna go have some weird mall employee put more holes in my thirty-five year old earlobes because a cool (younger) blogger did and it looked DOPE and I’m a kewl mom so bye.” I’m pretty sure one is already infected.
Anyway.,..we went to New Hampshire with some friends (Britt) the afternoon before Easter, and stayed over and did Easter morning together. Ya know, because “it will be wicked easy, and kids will have so much fun.” Well, kids did have so much fun.
But even one night away with kids requires seventy-two bags of shit and $165 worth of food per family. The afternoon was great—the kids played outside, did some drawing, and watched “weird videos” on Youtube together. Luckily Matt found our boys before the other kids did as they yelled “Look! We are girls!” from the bathroom while discovering how to do a Mangina.
Bedtime was okay, they only escaped their beds and had to be put back in twenty-seven times. And Easter morning started promptly at 4:30am, when Rex woke up and saw the eggs and then woke all his friends and told them about the eggs, and then Matt barged in and told them all that Rex was dreaming and it was middle of the night and the rabbit hadn’t come yet. And then Rex cried and asked Matt if he really thought Rex would lie in front of all his friends. So then Matt had to come clean and then it was game on. They found and opened (exactly) 200 eggs and their baskets in approximately eight minute and then ate 6/24ths of the donuts we brought, Britt bronzed up a mini ham, my boys swam in the rain, and I forgot to serve the fruit salad. By 9:45am we had basically been up and awake for a days worth of activities and were on the road headed home. The rest of the day is a blur and I am still very very tired.
I am so tired that I have been starting nightly dance parties right after dinner as an attempt to wear everyone out and get them to bed sooner. Rex has been perfecting his tough-guy face / fast-feet combo while Bizzy scales the outside of the staircase, and Rocky spends the majority of the time in the bathroom soaking rolls of toilet paper and rubbing them on himself because it “makes him look sweaty”. We also continue to be HEAVY on the wrestling, in case you were wondering. “The Rexster” is currently weighing in at seventy-three pounds. Guys, he is five. He is SEVENTY-THREE POUNDS. His feet are almost a size 4. And don’t ask me if I still bite his toenails, because I will lie. See ya!