It was New Year’s eve. A brief glance at Facebook revealed status updates full of merriment and possibility. I opted not to jot down a few words and click ‘post’ for I was feeling decidedly un-merry.

We were smack in the middle of our tenth move-every-item-we-own move in fifteen years. I had spent New Year’s Eve climbing stairs while carrying boxes, buckets, children, carpets and it had all sucked. Because moving pretty much sucks the life out of you.

The only way moving does not suck is when you pick up the phone and dial North American Van Lines (or some full-service moving company) and drive to Starbucks while three of their employees pack up your entire household (in less than four hours) and load all of it into a moving van. All in the time it takes you to have a second latte.

In that instance, moving is nearly tolerable, even though you are quite possibly bankrupt by the end of the process. And you stand a reasonable chance of opening a fancy, unblemished moving box and finding a trash can with trash still inside it. True story.

So in lieu of paying the price of a small used car, we opted for the slightly more cost-effective, grey-hair-inducing method of packing our own belongings and hiring a truck with three movers. All while trying to celebrate Christmas with the boys, visit with my mom – who perhaps rued the timing of her trip after scouring my chicken-roasting-oven for over an hour – and celebrate the anniversary we didn’t get to celebrate this summer because we were travelling.

It was[n’t] the best of times. It was[n’t] the worst of times.

But in the end, our belongings made their twenty-block journey and we all ended up with a place to sleep and a place to eat. And, as happens after childbirth, we immediately began the process of erasing the worst memories so that we could pretend (after a few days) that it ‘really wasn’t that bad’.

Which is just as well since we’ll have to repeat this feat before my next birthday.

But in the meantime, we’ll amuse ourselves with the functioning dishwasher. (Glasses without disgusting crud at the bottom! Who knew!) A dryer that dries clothes in less than an hour and a half. (Do the math: nine loads of clothes, which is a standard occurrence for the five of us – translates into 13.5 hours of drying time, alone.) And frolicking among the more than six inches of kitchen counterspace and six cupboards in which to store kitchen items.

‘I feel like we’re living in one of those vacation rental properties,’ the professor exclaimed after we’d moved in; when we were still slightly euphoric from the abundance surrounding us: shelves! closets! closets with shelves! a basement….without poop! a non-leaking shower….without mold! (What can I say – when you’ve lived in as many places as we have, you learn to make do.)

Perhaps 2012 will be the year we reclaim our sanity.

Stay tuned.

5 thoughts on “VRBO

  1. We also had the pleasure of the packed trash can full of trash. Nobody goes out on a limb, do they? 🙂 Love the header photo, and wish you and the fam the best in 2012. May you be settled in a mold free, counterspace-a-plenty home for as long as it takes to regain that sanity!

  2. I have heard of the packed trash cans from other folks who paid for full service moves. So, as a latecomer to the story line, why have you moved so often? Is it mostly in town moves or moves for jobs? I know you lived in Mpls for a while and apparently went back to Muncie, then to the great white north. We are facing a possible move this summer ourselves, just to a different community, and I really am not looking forward to it.

  3. While scouring said oven I remembered two hot summers, two mosaic stoops, and refinished kitchen cabinets. I’ll clean your oven every time you move because you made my house pretty. The present one is self-cleaning, right?

  4. Rachel, thanks! I thought the photo had a bit of a new year’s vibe: ‘looking ahead’ or ‘bright things on the horizon’…Diana, we’ve probably had 15 or 16 addresses in our married life, but only moved our entire household 10 times. A few moves were within cities (like 2 in Mpls, 3 in Calgary) but it’s usually job/school-related (brief stints in Nashville and Berlin and a longer stint in London). Nina, yes the present oven is self-cleaning, but I don’t think I will roast a chicken any time soon. Heather, we’re renting a house from friends who are trying to sell their house. Once the boxes disappear, I’ll snap a picture for ya!


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