Moving Day Drama

I wish the drama was actually confined to just a day, but nothing ever happens in just one day. Moving is a process that can takes weeks if not months.

In our case it really was months. We spent a significant amount of time before our house went on the market sorting through the stuff. Trash, Donate, Keep, Store, Pack Now, etc. The tedious part was finished before the moving part took place.

Then as moving day approached it became apparent that this wouldn't be a family activity, this would be me packing the entire house myself. In my DrH defense, he did provide all the boxes. Another perk of working at a hospital - they have a never ending supply of boxes. Everything we own is packed in a box that is marked Kimberly-Clark, or one of a half dozen other suppliers.

We are cheap, but you already knew that. That factor heavily contributed to our choice of storage/transportation providers. But we also came to our senses and realized that some convenience would be worth it. And before I forget, the credit goes to my drH for taking care of that arrangement. We needed to store out items for a couple months and have them transported to our final destination (wherever that will be).

In the end he choose PODS. But here is where it gets interesting. Because we don't know where we will be living in July, we don't know how much room we will have so we erred on the small side and committed to taking only what would fit in one 16x8x8 box. 1 box is cheaper than 2, and we could replace whatever didn't fit cheaper than getting another POD. That is right, a family of 6 in one little box. And let me tell you it was little.

The nice thing is that the POD was delivered a week before we moved, so I packed the boxes and stored them neatly in the basement and as drH had time he would load the box (with surgical precision I might add). We knew that we would be needing to dispose of more items before a single box went it.

The day came for the POD to be picked up and while most of the stuff we wanted made it, some very important pieces that should have been in it didn't make it. Namely the baby's crib. That is a funny story.

The night before the big day, my friend offered to let us borrow her pack'n'play so we could take the crib down and pack it that night. My drH tossed that suggestion aside thinking that he would have time to take it apart that morning. I looked at him with the eyes that said are you sure? Well, morning came and so did the truck as he was still taking the crib apart, the long hard way - the truck wasn't waiting around.

So when we arrive I need to purchase a place for the baby to sleep, a vacuum, a boys bicycle, lamps and furniture. The only pieces we took were: our bed, a guest bed, our sons mattress, 1 dresser, kitchen table and chairs, entertainment center, 2 book cases, 1 cubby storage thing, 1 couch and 1 chair.

We gave away or donated a cedar chest, a large dresser w/ mirror, a toddler bed, a convertible crib/bed, a rocker/ottoman, computer desk and chair, 3 small book cases, a childs table with 4 chairs, a dresser, a filing cabinet, 3 lamps, and 2 chairs.

Typing it makes it seem like more than it really was. I couldn't feel too bad about giving the stuff away seeing as most of it was donated to us, or picked up off the side of the road, and was certainly college furniture. I almost wish some of our other pieces would have been left behind so they could be replaced. I say that like I have the money to replace such things!

In the end, it all went away and the truck drove off with our stuff. We cleaned and said goodbye. I think leaving the house for the last time was harder on my drH than it was for me. His memories were only good ones. Because I lived there every day, and paid the bills that drained our accounts and robbed our time, I was less sentimental about saying "so long". That and I feel like the house had betrayed me and I hold a grudge.

Would I do it again? I don't know, and since we don't have that option I am not going to give it another thought. What's done is done. Onward and upward.