This is your official update on the great weird Ritz herd move of 2014 reporting live to you on your handy-dandy computer screen. Hold tight, folks, ’cause it’s a doozy.
So the five of us descended on our tiny second floor apartment like a tornado of Rubbermaid boxes and Fisher Price toys. Tiny is a bit of an understatement when you consider we are temporarily downsizing from about 1700 square feet to 500. That’s less than a 1/3 of what we had before, and while mostly everything has found a home I’m getting really tired of tripping over the (neatly folded) piles of stuff that linger and don’t quite fit here and there. I still don’t know where everything is. If it’s not with us than I’m holding out hope that it is in fact somewhere in the storage unit and not down the same vortex that eats missing gym socks… and likely my sanity.
I’m paranoid that we’ll upset the neighbors below us with all the foot action of five people moving around. There’s lots of shushing and praying that the kids don’t hate me for this move when they are older. I feel bad, they should be able to be normal kids and play and run around without worrying about other people. They are good kids and definitely didn’t ask for this inconvenience. Well, none of us did really, but that’s another story.
The one good thing about moving to the apartment during the summer is that we get lots of pool time and the kids can practice swimming. It’s so neat to see them learning and becoming more confident. That’s probably the best part of this whole situation.
This is not the situation we hoped for though. We had other plans lined up, plans that were workable and beneficial for all parties involved, but at the 11th hour those plans fell through and our hearts were a mess in the collateral damage. We almost gave up on building our dream house but Brian was able to make the financial arrangements work, barely. But with every good thing comes sacrifices.
I’m not handling this well. I kind of feel like I’m drowning a bit over here, actually. Between working and being overwhelmed with classes (I bit off way more than I can chew this semester), and being a sleep-deprived mom of three, and the stress of buying/selling/moving, and other issues that are outside of my control, and then the constant fight against my brain telling me that I’m failing at everything I do (who’s honestly, making a pretty compelling argument).
Sometimes I feel like I’m encapsulated in this depression rut. Like I’m wallowing in this deep dark valley with piles of responsibilities and issues and my own emotions to tackle with just my own bare hands to dig out (as neatly as possible) through. But it’s one of those things, you know, that you know gets easier as you get through it (or over the proverbial piles). That each step, each day, is the right direction from where I am today.