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Some of our things curently in storage. |
I have heard that moving can be one of the most stressful events
in one’s life. I’ve never seen any lists that discuss how stressful it is to be
eight months pregnant and moving in the middle of winter. I am sure that nobody writes about that
because they assume that most people know better than to do that. Well we aren’t most people…
Moving While Pregnant Is Not as Much Fun as It Sounds
As I mentioned recently, we are in the process of buying a
new house because we need more space.
The truth is, we have more space than families in third world countries,
more space than most families in New York City, and probably more space than a
lot of people. A three bedroom town home with 1400 square feet for two adults and one toddler shouldn’t have
us busting at the seams, but it does.
The reason we're so pressed for space is because I bought the place before I met Andre and liked it because it accommodated all of my things. Little did I know my family of one who expand to four and that those extra three people would want some closet space too. Andre has even said, "how many shoes does one person need?!" Clearly, he needs to get his priorities straight! :-)
So, we made an offer on a place two weeks ago. The offer was
accepted so it looks like we’re moving.
That being said, looks can be deceiving.
The inspection revealed some deficiencies that we hadn’t expected. They aren’t deal breakers, but we have
decided to renegotiate the deal.
We remain optimistic that we are moving. Getting a new home
requires selling our current one, which is a lot of work. And Andre is acting “as if” it is going to
happen. Talk about acting in faith. He
has been packing up our home like a mad person.
I’ve lived in this home for nearly nine years. So, what he’s been doing
is dismantling my life and putting it into cardboard boxes.
The challenge is I have long believed that relieving my life in my old age will be nearly as much fun as living it. So, I have tended to keep and document everything. So, every once in a while he discovers a photograph or a poem that brings to live the ghosts of past loves, heartbreaks and experiences. While I was compiling these things I never thought that my trip down memory lane might be a rocky road for him. I feel bad, but because I'm very pregnant I'm not much help with the packing and can't even distract him with sexual favors! (I'm not saying that I do that routinely, but I've heard that's an effective distraction technique...)
In any event, I am blessed that his desire to be out of our home outweighs any concern he has about matters that happened over a decade ago. So, he continues to pack. I continue to try to think about where I may have put some random photo. And we both continue to smile. Let's hope that continues!
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