It’s moving week. The moving started today. Mostly everything is packed, but the kitchen needs to go now. “She’s blogging when she should be packing?” you ask. Yes, yes I am. People have been extending their sympathies to me about moving while pregnant. What’s the big deal, right? So I’m pregnant, I’m not crippled. I can still move. I’m not dying. I’m only 23 weeks. But I may as well be a bump on a log. I sit way too much. I rest way too much. I just need to close my eyes for a minute way too much. I feel like a beached whale. So as it turns out, moving while pregnant is NOT that awesome, and I really am tired. People have offered to help, letting me know that they’d love to help. But nobody LOVES to help move. We all hate it. With a deep and bitter hatred. So much so that we all contemplate burning all that we own and just buying new stuff at the new house. Because of how much everyone hates moving, I don’t like to have people help me move, unless it’s my family or Jacob’s. Joe, Juddy, and Jacob’s dad loaded up a bunch of stuff today while Jacob was working. He’s not off until Thursday and Friday unfortunately, so, even though we got keys yesterday, we really can’t give it all we’ve got until Thursday since he works each night until 8:30.
Easton started at his new school today, and I was so very nervous this morning when I took him because of how very nervous he was. He loved his teacher at Conners, Mrs. Lee, and she gave him the sweetest little goodbye book with notes and pictures from every student in the class. It was sad to have to move him this late into the school year. Anyway, when I picked him up after school he said that his day was awesome and that he loved it. Big ol’ fat sigh of relief.
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