Our 1st family move with 2 kids was to a house that we fixed up. Plain and simple, it was sheer hell.
I will never forget making our last run of boxes to the new house at 2am because we had to be out of the old house that day and still had work to do there. My husband was carrying a box of food, which broke open on the bottom. Jars of jelly, mustard, ketchup, etc started rolling down the hill. Everything was dirty and all over the front yard.
When this happened, I was carrying plates into the house that I never had time to actually pack, so I was just holding a stack of them. As the jelly is rolling down the hill and as I was carrying the plates, my son, 3 years old at the time, started crying and yelling over and over to me, “carry bigger ones!” He wanted me to carry bigger loads into the house, probably so we could just be done.
I didn’t blame him for how he felt, but the plates were heavy ,and I couldn’t carry anything else. My daughter was sleeping, and all we needed at that point was for them to both be awake, crying and yelling. That was one scene of many just like it, that day. It is funny now, but it wasn’t then.
We started working on the house 2 weeks before we moved in, but didn’t have all the floors done yet, so everything was put in one part of the house, which meant that the boxes were head high, and there was only a narrow path between boxes and furniture to get around. I never thought I would get everything in place because there was no rhyme or reason as to how things were placed.
It looked as if you took a truck of your stuff, opened the roof and dumped it all in. I cried when I saw this because there was nothing else to do.
I had a 1-year-old and a 3-year-old in this house, which we were still working on. We all slept in one room and had to eat in there for a few days because I couldn’t find the kitchen table. Even if I could, there were boxes in the way, and I couldn’t reach it. It was an overwhelming task to unpack, but I did it.
After living almost a year in our house, we found out that my husband lost his job because of funding cuts. Our 2nd family move was 5 hours away, which meant goodbye to the house that we put blood, sweat and tears into.
It was hard, but in the end, it was a material thing, we were together and my husband was fortunate enough to get a job during very difficult economic times. We were grateful, but stressed, to say the least.
This next move was difficult, but not nearly as hard as the one before it. The kids were just a bit older, and we didn’t have to do any work on the house we were moving into. We also rented it, which was fantastic because if something broke, we just had to call someone. This was a completely different scenario then last time.
It has been almost 2 years since we moved here, and in the last few months, we found out that my husband’s job has only enough funding for an additional year, unless more grants come through for the research he is working on now. After breaking the news to me, I froze. I couldn’t speak, move or cry…nothing.
Actually, all I wanted to do was puke. But, I didn’t. Instead, he got back on the job hunt because he figured it would take all year to get a new one, and we focused on the present. For the time being, we knew we had a home and he had a job. So, I let go of the worry, focused on what we did have and kept enjoying our life.
To our surprise, my husband actually got a better job within a month or so of looking. Yes, this means family move #3 for us, but this job brings a better salary and more security.
I am dreading the packing, but I have 1 1/2 months to get it done. The moving stinks, but we are going to get some help this time. I am not looking forward to the whole relocation process and being a stranger in a new town again. But, once we are settled, we will have less stress, in general, and we will be in a place that is pretty similar to where we live now. We will still be at the beach and a tad closer to my family.
I can’t believe I am saying this, but I am excited. We all are.
Lately, I have been researching schools and house hunting through the night. I have developed a bad case of insomnia, although a bit of Benadryl has been helping me sleep the last few nights. There are so many unknowns at this point, but the prospects look good. I am doing my best to take things one day at a time and remember to focus on what is important…my family.
Have you moved house with your children before? If so, how old were your children at the time, and how did they handle the adjustment?
This is an original World Moms Blog post by Maggie Ellison of South Carolina, USA. Maggie can be found crafting with her children at home or playing on the beach with them in the low country of South Carolina, USA.
Photo credit to Carbon NYC. This photo has a creative commons attribution license.