Moving Week, August 26, 2011

It’s 6:37 am. Friday, August 26, 2011.

Carrie’s in the bouncy seat, stirring every few minutes to signal that she’s fixing to wake and eat soon. Melina just ate and is working out an insidious case of hiccups by hanging onto me.

It’s been a hectic few days. Endless phone conversations with utilities companies, the title company, and gap health insurance (Need insurance? We can cover you! No, we can’t. Yes, we can! No, we can’t……). Running the dishwasher every time we dirty four plates and four bowls because all our other dishes are boxed. All while keeping Devon from unpacking the half-packed boxes on the floor, replacing pacifiers when they fall out, and producing enough milk to fill a Super Big Gulp. I’m a good mom, but I feel like putting everyone on notice: this moving thing is seriously interfering with my ability to Bring My A-Game.

I could try to sleep a few more minutes, but I can’t stop thinking.

Three more days.

Craig successfully defended his dissertation on Wednesday (just call us Dr. and Mrs.!). He’s upstairs printing his copies that the UK library will keep as documentation of his four years of research on tall fescue pastures and armyworms. He’ll turn those in today and be officially done. We’ll give our worldly goods to movers, load kids and cat into our cars, and hopefully avoid Hurricane Irene as we drive south to our new home.

I’ve never been to Florida. When Craig went for a visit, at 30 weeks I was great with child (children?) and advised not to accompany him. I’m relying completely on his positive impression and the fact that he got the USDA job he was shooting for after years of hard work. I’ve looked at our new backyard and driven to Sam’s Club from our house thanks to the Street View setting in Google Earth, but in a week I’ll be driving the turnpikes for the very first time.

It seems weird to say this about a place I’ve spent only 4 of my 32 years, but I feel like when we leave Lexington we’ll be saying goodbye to our home. We even listed Lexington as our hometown on the degree paperwork. It makes me sad to think that all of our kids were born here and none of them will remember living here. That’s probably why leaving Lexington is so much harder than leaving California was four years ago. Having children ties you to a place in ways that are hard to understand.



Every time I get a spare minute, I linger over a feeding and hold the twins. This is their one and only fourth week of life. I find a way to cherish them even in the midst of our upheaval. When our schedule settles down and we can finally take a break, they’ll still be ours, but bigger, stronger, and different already.



Then I chase Devon down the hall and tousle his hair. It grows longer in the back and sides, and if I don’t break down and cut it soon he’s going to have a Baby Mullet. He won’t remember this moment. Or the thousand times he crawled up the stairs to his room giggling with pregnant me plodding heavily behind. Or the first family walk around the neighborhood as a family of five in the lime green triple stroller that manages to fit all of our children at once. Their family memories will most likely begin with Florida, and surely we’ll have good ones. After all, we’re moving to the beach!

Now, if I could just fit into my bathing suit……