48 hours

In less than 48 hours we will be moving into the Natural Urban Home. Yes, yes, I know, it's all I am talking about lately, but I am getting excited.


I am also THE BIGGEST ball of stress and anxiety, that it is not even funny!

Over the last few weeks I have managed to put myself into a full-fledged RA flare AND give myself what I think are the beginnings of a stomach ulcer. TUMS and my anti-inflammatory medications are my very good friends this week.

The last time we moved, Little C was 6 months old. He didn't care what was going on and was content to just be worn in a carrier while I packed up our little house. And it was June.

Today I woke up to this....

Mother Nature is playing a cruel, cruel, four days late, April Fool's  joke on me! I am not impressed lady!

And my poor children.

This time around, at 5 and 3.5 years old, they DO care about what is going on and are a lot more sensitive to the whole process. Now, this is not to say that they are not excited, they really are, but they are also feeling a fair amount of stress about the move too.

Our routines are all messed up. We haven't sat down at a table for dinner in over a week (it is covered in boxes and missing chairs). Naps have been very hit and miss. Three quarters of their toys and games have been packed up and well, Mama is a big stress ball!

And my kids are the sensitive kind. And also the vocal kind, especially about their feelings. (FYI- I am kind of proud of BOTH of these things!)

All of this makes for some very trying moments in our days as of late. Their needs are not getting met to the best of my ability because of all of the other tasks and to do lists and to be perfectly honest, the needs of the house(s) and this move.

I know it is a temporary situation, but it still doesn't make all those ugly guilty-mom feelings go away. And this is adding to my stress level too.

This morning started out rocky for all of us and not only because of the crappy drive in all that snow. We had to have a little three person huddle before we left the house to talk it all out and I explained to the kids how I am feeling right now and that I am nervous about moving and making sure we are all ready and packed and good to go.

My kids... They really are amazing little people. They both gave me huge "love" hugs (in our house these are the super-duper tight squeeze-y ones), told me it was all going to be OK and that they can't wait to be in the new house, gave me kisses and then we went on our way to playschool.

And then I went to my favourite cafe for a HUGE latte and some time to just be...


48 hours people.

I just have to get through the next 48 hours and then it will all be OK...

Why is it that the unpacking is always so much better than the packing?

Deep breathes,