This morning we arose amid a sea of boxes and bags to the place we now call home. “Where’s my toothbrush? Where are my shoes? Have you seen my car keys?” The questions of the morning as we shimmied around cardboard mountains and furniture haphazardly placed in spot that makes no sense. Max, clung to Mama. The cat hid under the dinning room table. Apparently change is as hard on a 9 month old as it is on a 13 year old cat. Max was freaked out this morning. He only wanted to nurse, be held, and would scream and run to Mama if put down on the floor. No breakfast, no Daddy time, no shower…just Mommy holding him securely.
At daycare he played the same tune but this time Mommy wasn’t around so Daddy would have to suffice. Reaching for me with tears streaming down his face he cried as I woefully left the room and headed to work. I remember when my parents dropped me off for ski school as a kid and I bawled like that – I was afraid they were going to ski off and never come back for me, free of the demon child that threw epic temper tantrums.
There is still some moving left to be done. Moving with a clingy 9 month old is impossible. On top of all that tonight is Halloween and our new house is on one of the busiest streets for trick-or-treating, we leave for NYC in less than 2 days, and following that trip I go directly to Oregon for work. All my stuff is just going to sit in boxes for 2 weeks till I get back and then be there to greet me as I walk in the front door. Fun! Moving sucks…but owning a home is the comfort of knowing you aren’t going to move for a while, and in that I find solace.