I’m in the midst of moving house. Why? Because it was the right thing to do for all my family and I guess, for me. Yet as I packed the boxes and dragged my feet, my body was telling me that I am just getting too old for this kind of thing.
I used to love moving. It was such a joy to get a new house and set it up. I couldn’t wait to arrange the furniture, to hang the curtains and pictures. But I am just not as young as I used to be. Now my feet are burning, my legs aching, my back feeling the strain. It wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t have to bend to pick up the kids things! Boy, oh, boy are they messy.
And I guess inside I am making all those new year resolutions like, I’m never gonna let the kids make this much mess again; They are going to have to be so much cleaner, etc.
Well talk to me in a month and I will probably be singing the praises as I have halved the time to get to school and back. Not to mention having the in-laws just around the corner, so that when we are sick or in trouble, there is someone close by to watch the kids.
One thing that is really bothering me is how safe I am going to feel in this house. My previous home was on a small block, hemmed in on every side, so intruders had no way of getting into the yard. Also, I knew all my neighbours and my children played with their children, so leaving the kids home to go to the shop was not an issue. I guess I’m just going to have to get used to being there more for everyone and not being as free.
The bonus is that my husband will be joining us again shortly. I guess then there will be the need to change again. In the meantime, I’m just going to start to feel more gratitude about the whole situation. Instead of feeling like I’ve had no choice, I’m going to embrace my personal power and find the joy in the moment.
I guess the good news is, tonight I can run a hot bath and have a long soak in the tub! Bring it on.
