Yesterday, Chris and I opened a new account at Nantucket Bank and on the form where it said employer I wrote “homemaker.” Holy cow! It’s here! I have officially joined the ranks of the under-paid and over-worked nanny-maid-cook-personal assistant-chauffeur-etc. (says Ann Crittenden), and I couldn’t be more thrilled.
Since our final trip across the walkway it’s been a flurry of packing and cramming in as much work as I could at Bard, before my last work day Tuesday and moving trucks pulling up to our (not-completely-packed) house Thursday morning. Last week was a little sad and a lot stressful, but also very exciting.
Sunday evening was Nora’s first tumble – head-first from an armchair to the garage floor while I was helping someone load up our office furniture. That moment was the most horrifying I have had as a parent so far, and is one I don’t want to relive – ever. Luckily, she just came away with a scrape and slight bruise on her forehead, and was her normal self after a good fifteen minute nursing session (I have never been more thankful for breastfeeding). After we both calmed down, I walked over to our neighbor’s (Marc’s parents) to get a second opinion on the necessity of a hospital visit (none needed), then we had lots of play time in her room instead of packing like I should have been, because mama-guilt had set in.
This week, we had some hard goodbyes. Tuesday night at “Aunt” Margarete’s and Wednesday at Nora’s sitter Kari’s house. We’re going to miss all of our friends so much, but especially Margarete, Kari, Ella and Ava who were such a part of our daily life.
With all the sad stuff out of the way, Wednesday night and Thursday were 18 hours of pure stress-driven adrenaline. I’ll spare the details, but it went from running out of boxes at 3 in the morning and not being done packing when the movers arrived, to forgetting our entire back-up supply of milk in the freezer and having to turn around and drive 25 minutes back to get it. (No way was I going to start from scratch or let 100+ ounces get thrown away.) And poor Nora was totally out of sorts Thursday, so the drive to Hyannis, which should have taken 4 hours, actually took 8 because I kept having to pull over and console her. If I wasn’t already missing Chris, that drive alone would have done it. I’m sure my mounting stress wasn’t helpful in her staying relaxed; she could tell my demeanor was off, besides the strange routine, not enough attention, and, What the heck mom, why are you trying to feed me a bottle when you’re right here?
Despite all the stress, there was some joy in the day: like the fact that the movers packed a ton of things for me but didn’t charge us any extra, the small satisfaction I got out cleaning the house really thoroughly (I’m weird in that way), the nice phone call I got from my brother Brandon while I was driving, and the joy in the fact that the day ended. Nothing could be better than knowing that the horror-show that was Thursday would end and would not last forever. And what came after Thursday was beautiful:
And that made the entire beginning of the week worth it. Because, somehow, Chris just does that.
Since then, we’ve been living the exciting: