Millard Moving Madness

I'm sitting quietly on the carpeted floor in our lower level living room with a small dog at my side (always so loyal and loving) and a mind that is stacked with thoughts like my garage with boxes. I am surrounded by peace and quiet. Two of my most favorite companions ... that don't visit nearly enough.

The entire Mavropoulos household sleeps snuggled in warm beds and mama is busy getting everything neatly organized for the grind tomorrow that never seems to cease. Not only do we mothers never get a sick day but we are also responsible for knowing where every little "important" object be at any given time during a move that any member of the family might inquire of at any given time. "Mom?!.. Where's that purple pencil that smells like grape? It was with my socks I threw in my bedroom on the floor on the Thursday before the move?!...All the while standing there like they should have hands on hips, tapping a foot on the floor, checking their watch to time my mommy searching skills, always sizing me up. I'm freaking exhausted. Then snow?! It was 74*F yesterday. Winter jackets were the least on my mind to be quite frank. So today I'm THAT mom that dropped off Jaxon to school in what could have been mistaken for summer-esque attire praying a recess break is completely out if the question. (Growing up in Nebraska, I should've known better) Tsk Tsk to me!

So...

We're back at home. The house in Millard I've blogged about in the past and compared our family to the waves and the house to the shore, we're always moving in and back out it seems.

We're here for good [[fingers crossed -as well as toes]] and everyone is happy about it. I remain full of peace and optimism. We need roots for these children to continually be able to branch out and blossom and that's exactly why we are here once again.

I find myself more happy about it now than before. I am unpacking boxes like a professional box unpacking machine. Whoever packed them must have been a bit OCD (and perhaps even making her way through the nesting period) Each one packed with precision inside, everything carefully wrapped in newspaper or maneuvered in such a way you'd truly think I was a professional. I've moved so much I've gotten pretty good at it. But I don't pride myself on the moving part, it's the "setting up shop" part I find so intriguing. Every box with handwritten tags stating the contents inside and which room it should be shown toward. It's so easy and THAT is the reason for 2 months before moving I was harping on my husband to get moving supplies. Things like this take tact and organization so our lives can be put back together in a timely fashion. Men just don't get anything tactful, organizational, and they surely are not concerned about time let alone doing it fashionably.

I'm unpacking things as if this first snow of the season is actually freshly fallen for Christmas and Santa just came and brought me all sorts of the "goods". And with the chill in the house that this fully charged November has brought to us, it resembles the holiday quite nicely. A hot cup of tea, candles lit, pandora app playing my "Tears for Fears" station (that I wouldn't openly admit) continuously dancing around to like a small school child. Life is perfect! (at this very instance) :)

I'm so super ecstatic about getting the home settled properly during the next couple cold weeks. I'm making mental notes and physical sketches of ideas that are playing through my head at a constant stream like these 80's tunes coming out of the ol' iPhone.

I'm finding new and inventive ways to get everything nice and neatly back to a "home" in the house. However, I have not even begun to dive into the abyss of my packed books from throughout the years. Kindle?!.. Not for this old lady!! (I'll be 28 in a dozen days btw and this is a live conversation I had with Jaxon while tucking him in last night:
J: "Mom? (it's always a question as if answering or not answering to it makes any sort of difference) in 13 days how old will you be?"
A: "28"
J: "Geez...you are old!"
A: [[snickering]] "you think 28 is old?!"
J: "ancient"
I told him that at his ripe age of 5 (almost 6) that I'm certain I thought 28 was old too but also went on to explain that although it may seem old, I'll be around for a WHOLE lot longer so he better get used to it. :)
And...
Back to the books... (sorry for drifting afar) I haven't got room. I refuse to go digital or technical (aside from iPhone) in any aspect and nothing compares to the feeling of opening up a book whether it be old or new, read or reread or never read, grabbing it by the binding out of hiding, feeling the crisp paper, smelling the dust flee from the pages with each turn. [sigh] With my hot cup of coffee (or tea in this case) in
a peacefully quiet dark house lit only by candlelight it's absolutely utopian. But I need a bookshelf errrr... library to house them in and STAT!! As much as I love the books, they haven't got a home. :(

Project!!! :)

stay tuned for updates and progress on the house. There shall be plenty, I've got a ton to do and better get to it!