I knew that moving would be a process. Sometimes a hard one. Sometimes an easy one. There would be days with tears. And days with laughing.
But I had no idea what a process the actual unpacking part would be.
I opened a box that was titled “liquids.” Inside I found spices and a breast pump.
All those liquids and food they said they wouldn’t pack? Yes, I got to deal with the aftermath of that. Most of it went straight into the trashcan, obviously. I mean, who’s going to eat a half opened box of Cheerios that have been sitting in a storage warehouse for the past eight weeks?
When there is already things sticking out the side of a box, you know whatever is in there isn’t safe and still in one piece, haha.
It’s kind of like playing Russian roulette when you’re unpacking the kitchen stuff. Some objects are well identified as being “sharp.” Others, you only find out when you accidentally drop half a centimeter from your foot.
And definitely don’t be attached to anything. Because despite the fact the packers and movers only had one job – one job – you can bet that a lot of stuff will be damaged, ruined, or destroyed.
Practically brand new mattress? Ripped. The only nice dresser you own? Gouged all down the left leg. Baking pans? Broken. Wine glasses, broken. Weird mysterious brown liquid all over a box full of blankets. But nothing else in the box other than blankets. Wonder what that liquid is…
Dresser drawers jammed, screws missing to multiple pieces of furniture, piano broken.
And as if that weren’t enough, that second vehicle we were waiting on? J’s motorcycle. Smashed. So I guess we have a lot more weeks of driving over an hour one way round trip to drop him off at work, and then do it all over again pick him up in the afternoon. Otherwise we’re stranded at home by ourselves and no way to do anything. Which isn’t an option for our family.
But mostly I’m trying to focus on the fact that I have a bed. Finally. I just spent over six weeks in my third trimester of pregnancy sleeping on the floor. That is for the bees. I have never appreciated a bed so much in my entire life.
And the kids are happy-ish, and their lives finally have some semblance to their lives before the move. Which is a good thing. And in a few short weeks, I will have another darling baby in my arms. And we will look back on this week and laugh. And maybe cry if I’m still hormonal. But mostly laugh.