Let's go back to the days following baby Fred's baptism, because that will be nice and chronological and neat. So little Fred was baptized and life promptly went nuts. My mother-in-law left and intense packing commenced since our move was 2 weeks away.
Fred has been a bit of a screamer and does NOT prefer to be put down and expresses his preference in the form of blood curdling screeches that make all parties present pretty sure that they're heads are going to explode, so I packed up the remainder of the house with him in the moby wrap. No exaggerating there, I promise.
Once the house was all in boxes, the next step was the actual move, which began on July 12, also known as the Craziest Day in the History of days. Only a little exaggerating there.
It began just fine at the crack of dawn after a night of barely sleeping and mostly nursing, but after a 6 a.m. run to McDonalds for coffee I felt like I could manage. My sweet, dear friend Jen let me and the kids camp out at her house for the morning while the movers packed the trucks, for which I am eternally indebted to her because she already has 5 kids and was a veritable peach about doubling the number for an indefinite amount of time. Seriously a peach.
The day got crazy after we left. Mike said the movers were about 30 minutes away from being done and after driving past some road work and having our van splattered with loads of mud I thought that taking the kids through the car wash would be a fun time killer.
Off to the wash we trotted with Fred SCA-REEEEMing in the back, but I was sure the car wash would lull him. And it did! But then the wash was over and he was back to his head-exploding-level-scream and the movers were not done yet so we pulled off into a parking lot so I could nurse him. I had to get out of the van to get him out and bring him to the passenger seat to feed him and as I went around the back of the van....
Wait what is that....
A GIANT PIECE OF THE BACK THE VAN HANGING OFF??????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FLIPPING KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A giant piece of the back bumper was literally hanging off and cracked from the car wash. I had held my hormonal, sleep deprived self together up until this point, but I no longer could I stood in this random church parking lot weeping while the kids gawked and asked copious questions about what on earth had happened.
I sped back to the car wash and demanded to talk, or rather, cry-at the manager who sent me across town to their shop to see if they could fix it but I couldn't find it and Fred was at his breaking point (ok, he is always at his breaking point in the car seat). I gave up and went to our not-home to cry-at Mike, who quickly helped me to calm down and got the cracked piece back into place and assured me that we could still drive with it like that and so we commenced moving with a broken car.
We looked at our South Bend house one last time and I cried more because I just couldn't stop.
The next 24 hours were fine, we stayed in the Ville on our way and finished the drive to VA the next day and then the crazy picked up again in the form of:
1) Our realtor calling when we were an hour outside of the town we were moving to to tell us that the sellers of our home could not close the next day, which is what we planned our entire trip around..........
2) walking into the the house for the walk-through and finding that they had painted the entrance and formal living area hot pink (?!?!?!?!?!)......
with a side of bright green in the formal dining area. They were previously cream colored.
3) during our stay at the not-so-Quality-Inn having a man literally busted INTO our room at 10 p.m. for reasons still unknown to me and Mike.
To give you a little idea of the caliber of this particular hotel, upon witnessing several heavily tattooed men out on the balcony of the hotel with shirts off drinking beer, Bernadette remarked
"Hey! That take-off-shirt-man has LOTS of stamps!".
Yes he did, and we will pick a better hotel the next time.
You can bet that there were a good many more tears produced by these ducts that day because while wall color ain't no thang to most normal people, when you're postpartum and hormonal, surprise horrid wall colors can be the BIGGEST thing.
But now we are over a week out, we've officially closed on the house, we've been so warmly welcomed by the amazing community here AND Mike is out as we speak buying a normal wall color to repaint our living-dining monstrosity this week, putting my crazy-mind at easy in a huge way. He is the most amazing man in the world.
And that is that. We are here. The craziness has calmed and this house is perfect for us, especially our kick-ass new yard.
Thank you for the constant encouragement and prayers, you are all simply fabulous.