If anybody wants my opinion on the matter, moving is a really bad idea. Despite getting to bed super early for the last several nights, I'm still exhausted. Since Jason was working in New York up to a few days before the move, I packed most of the boxes, marking the ones needed at my parents' house with bright pink duct tape. Heck, not only did I pack the boxes, I literally dove into dumpsters to collect them!
Despite trying my darndest to get well-organized, it's amazing how much work was left to be done. We are SO grateful for all of the help, beginning with Charles and Susie who drove down from Logan to help us load the truck before driving all the way to Omaha with us. Were it not for Charles's expertise, I'm sure many more of our belongings would have been left on the roadside. We also had great help from friends, neighbors, home teachers, the elder's quorum, even the PTA. They stuck around and saw the move through to the bitter end, or at least to the new beginning. (Johnsons, Porters, Losees, Goughs, Mr. David Woolf--we're talking about YOU--thank you!)
All too soon, it was time to leave. The transition happened quickly. We closed on the house Tuesday morning, picked up the truck, and loaded it until well past dark. We were still loading Tuesday night when the new owners began dropping off some of their larger "toys" (four wheelers and dirt bikes.) We awoke early Wednesday morning and sprinted to be completely out by nine o'clock. When I drove by at eleven after taking the kids for one last well-check at the pediatrician, the new family was already moving the rest of their belongings in. The home no longer felt like ours.
|Minutes before pulling out. In case you're wondering what happened to Brooklyn, she elected to go to violin lessons one last time.|