Monday, March 31, 2014

I know we've been here nearly two months, but I was busy!

NB: This may be my only post about the initial move because, as you may know, this took an age to write and put up. We may just move on from here


Ah, the big moving day. Except that it wasn't. Since our movers had come nearly two weeks before, in my mind the day of  the flight would be a day of packing and chucking (and hopefully some donating). In the days leading up to departure my husband was concerned we weren't doing enough to get ready. He spent large parts of the day sorting, trashing, and making runs to Goodwill. I did some of that too, but I was more focused on seeing and spending time with my closest friends. Turns out the hub was in fact correct. The night before departure, I sent messages to three friends asking for help. Thankfully they not only showed up but went above and beyond because otherwise we would never have gotten out the door.

I know sometimes people make statements like the above for drama or exaggeration sake, but as god is my witness, in all the seriousness available in the known universe, we would never have made our flight without help. On the one hand I'm sorry that I didn't heed my husband's warnings and I cringe when I think of what we left behind. I feel bad for asking good friends to do jobs I should have done, though that IS what friends are for in an emergency. On the other hand, I think I would regret far more several days of arduous cleaning, trashing, clearing, packing/unpacking/repacking and donating, which would have been almost as stressful as the one crazy day, to then depart with more “things” and less hugs.* I did not leave anything behind that I cannot live without. At Christmas, I rushed to meet false deadlines and I have deep regrets about doing so. Obviously, a plane ticket is not a false deadline! But I like to think what I learned at Christmas was that ignoring my instincts is a pathway to poor choices in the care of my soul.

So on the day, insanity. One of my friends came over and literally sorted, boxes, trashed and found things I'd forgotten about for two hours longer than I'd asked her to and never once made me feel about it. Then, in the half hour before we had to leave for the airport we had to pack an extra bag, handily brought by one of the life-saver friends, and just chuck/leave a number of things like shoes, toys and books that were too bulky. A friend came over to help us out the door and he ended up doing far, far more (bless him) by returning to the house and pulling out things he thought we might need. I was also trying to coordinate the move out clean, some handyman jobs, and a carpet cleaner by phone on the way to the airport.

I dropped the kids and JAG off at the airport, where our friend helped them check-in while I returned the rental car. Again, the state of that car. Wow. Sorry rental car company cleaning guys. Hope those shoes I left fit someone you know.

At the terminal I found my husband looking, well, despondent really. We got all checked-in and had to say goodbye to our friend. He snapped a picture of us departing and posted it to fb. People who saw this photo, that's no illusion, JAG was really overwhelmed all of a sudden with the leaving. He and I really do sort of take turns getting overly emotional, which is for the best I think. Lord help us if we ever loose our shit at the same time.

The flight was, well, how do you think? Seven hours in a noisy, stuffy tin can? With two kids you want desperately to sleep? Little man kept insisting on sleeping on JAG, not letting us take turns much. And WeeC just wanted to watch the TV screens. And hear let me thank American Airlines again for using the oldest, crappiest plane on the only nonstop flight to the UK from our local airport. Neither parent slept. Upon landing and taking the very long walk to immigration, we were thankfully greeted with a short line. It was one of the easiest exits we've had. Of course, since our plane was 45 minutes early, that meant my sister-in-law hadn't arrived yet. We killed time by sitting listlessly and trying to keep the children from climbing nearby travelers.

Eventually, with the much needed help of the in-laws, we arrived to our new abode. We had ordered some furniture and my SIL and her husband set it up for us, including our beds. They had done a few things to make it feel homey, which was quite sweet really. They stayed to help us for a little bit and then left so naps might be taken. After the stressful departure from the US it was, as you'd expect, quite anti-climatic.

Then came the knock at the door. I opened it with a face that said, "If you're selling something, I am NOT in the mood." But on our sparkling new doorstep stood two of JAG's best friends and a new friend, baring gifts. I was shocked. JAG was gob smacked. Then we were delighted. It was one of the nicest sites and kindest gifts I've ever received. Friendly faces. Maybe this whole crazy move will be worth it.



*My husband saw friends too and was also at work until two days before our departure; I don't mean to imply he chose jobs over friends, he was just more able to see people in the days before the crunch than I was with two kids at home :)