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Moving children for the start of fall

I'm just going to put it out there. If you hate to move, you should never have kids.

My kids came back from their summer jaunts just in time for us to move them to their respective towns, and this year both girls wanted to move August first. So they literally came home Sunday to move on Monday ... again, to two different towns.

It could possibly be the hardest thing I've ever done. Top 20, at least.

I knew going in they were grossly underestimating their task. It got even more complicated with that mother/daughter dynamic where I was stressing, asking too many questions, then they'd shut me down until finally I gave up any hope of planning and let the chips fall where they may.

Despite the fact that there was a mountain of laundry Monday morning that was preceding the move, no boxes packed because we had no boxes, and a mattress that didn't get tied down right in the back of the truck bed, by the end of the day both those kids were in their new houses.

Funny thing about that mattress. Their dad and I decided to divide and conquer, so I was following one kid to Edmond while he drove the U-Haul with the other to Norman. So I'm following the girl in the pickup watching to make sure the mattress doesn't fly out of the truck bed when the mattress started to fly out of the truck bed.

We pulled off and were debating our options (of which there were few), when the Most Handsome Man in the World pulled up in a highway patrol car and helped us out. He was too old for my girl and too young for me, but there was no denying that he was mighty handsome.

Anyway. That happened. Thank you, Officer Beautiful.

So I got the youngest settled in her new place, and then we did what we had to do ... that is, go to Target. Which was literally the most exhausting part of the day. Took her to her new home, loaded up with household goods like push pins, a bath mat, ketchup, and bread for toast, then she was really settled.

After that, I barreled down the highway to check on the other girl, who by now had sent all her help on their way and was starting to unpack. She was mostly done and only had two tasks saved just for me, which were, ironically, to set up her bed frame and connect the cable and internet.

If it hadn't been such a long, hard day, I would have rolled on the floor laughing. Believe me, I am the very last person on earth to ask to do either one of jobs, but I gave it my best shot ... and failed. Real curse words were uttered, and a trip to Starbucks was completely necessary after giving it all I had and it still not being good enough.

Ah, but that's life, isn't it?

So yeah. Think twice, you young folks considering having babies. They'll just grow up, hopefully go to college, and need to move twice a year after that for anywhere from two to four years. They'll leave mounds of their material possessions in the hall all summer long until you feel like you're in a science-fiction movie and it's going to swallow you whole. Then they'll ask you to help them pack it up again and move it to a place of their choosing.

And you'll do it.

The funny thing is, the day after we moved them ... they both came back home.

They're still under my wing, but only a little bit.

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