A summary of the first day of school and the first day of our move…

I have walked more miles between this townhouse and the new townhouse today than I ever imagined.  My feet hurt.  My back is protesting.  My age is showing.  I made countless trips with several breaks in between, and I managed to take more stuff than I had expected.  In the midst of it all, Queequeg ran away from me and I had to run to catch it, and then Queequeg chased me down the slope and I had to stop it.  In a nutshell: I am bruised, scratched, tired, stinky, and I’ve got more stuff to do before the end of the day.

J had an awesome day at school.  The teacher told me he is working very hard at speaking more.  (Can I get a Hallelujah?)  He seemed happy to be back, and he came home very happy…

On the way back, he was chirping and giggling.  I told him “we’re going to see the new house,” and he was very excited.  I got the keys last evening, and we took him there to walk around.  Like a home-improvement show, he didn’t want to go in until everything was finalized.  J turned the key in the lock and walked in…he was happy.  This place that he had been looking at from outside all these months was finally ready for him to take possession.

We visited his bedroom first, and I let him roam around, explaining “this is TGG’s room.  This is your bathroom.  Look at the hallway closet.  Your closet is big…you can walk into it!  Look at our bedroom, and this is the balcony…you can see the river.”  Then we took him downstairs to his TV room.  I explained that this was the hang-out room, and his TV and big bean bag chair would be there.  I showed him the bathroom downstairs.  I walked him around the laundry room and the closet under the stairs…

Tomorrow, we told J, is a big day!  You’re going back to school and this is going to be our new house!

This afternoon, he turned the key in the lock with a look of wonder on his face.  We stepped in and made our way to the kitchen.  On the counter, several boxes and baskets waited for my attention, but the rest of the street-level was bare.  J turned to look at me with a “that’s IT?” expression on his face.  “Well…come look at the TV room!,” I said, and -handing him a box I’d let at the top of the stairs- led him to the basement level.  The sitting room is bare.  I have been working on taking things to the basement and the third floor because I want the street level clear for easier navigation.  J looked around and his face fell.  I led him to the TV room and showed him the boxes and packages I’d brought from our current home and announced “by tomorrow this will all be ready for you!”

He was not impressed.  J’s look clearly said “WHAT have you been doing all day, woman????  Didn’t you tell me we’re moving???  Where is my STUFF??????”  With a roll of his eyes, his shoulders slumped and he said “NOODLES…SODA” in the same tone some men use to say “bar…whisky.”  Clearly, I fell short of his expectations.

The kid is being hard on me.  I understand him.  He wants this move over and done, and I can’t say I blame him.  I want it over and done, too.  I am not going to feel offended by his disappointed.  I’m too sore to feel offended.  I need Tiger Balm, Tylenol, a hot bath, Epsom salts, and a drink…and I get to do it all over again tomorrow, but this time with Dada’s help.  I am sure we will get everything that J expects to find when he gets home squared away between the two of us.

So…there you have it.  It is THE Thursday, and it’s almost over…for better or worse, we’re in the middle of moving, and school has started.  By this time tomorrow, hopefully, things will have progressed more…

 

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