moving

I hate moving. I hate moving almost as much as I hate funerals. It ranks right up there at the top of my do not do list.

I hate packing, I hate loading, I hate unloading and I hate that I can't find a single thing.

I LOVE unpacking though. Stick me in a house full of loaded up boxes and I will be in heaven. All I need is a weekend of un interrupted time and space. I can be an orginzation queen.

Problem is, I have none of it. No time, no space, and interruptions every 2.5 minutes.

My alarm went off this morning at 05:00. I groaned, I slept so well last night. The search began. Box of towls- check. Undergarmets- Check... shoes. Searching. .. ... Ahhh.

I did make it out of the house at 06:01. I pulled into the parking lot at 21st and Memorial at 7:02. score.

i hate moving.

I love that my baby boy got to play outside as much as he wanted to yesterday.
I love that my children will have their own space.
I love that my family is about 15 minutes away

I love that tomorrow- we are gonna carve pumpkins and drink hot chocolate on my front porch.

I love that my children don't understand how hard I work for them, they just care how hard I play with them.