What may not be so apparent is how I'm handling all of this change. I am freaking out. Every time someone asks how we are doing with unpacking I casually answer, "Oh, we're getting there. One box at a time, right?" but I'm choking back tears.
I need calm in my life. I need calm and organization. I survive and thrive off knowing where things are and what to do next. Game plans, to-do lists, labels, categories...this is who I am. Ask me to describe myself? List maker! What's my best skill? Organizing! I'll never tell you I make a to-die-for chocolate cake or know an absurd amount about screen printing but damn if I can't alphabetize and hang my clothes in rainbow order with the best of them!
For the past three months I haven't been able to do this. We've been packing and cleaning and fixing. Everything has been everywhere. I don't know where the batteries or the toaster are. I can't find my card stock paper to print invites or my favorite pair of sweats. I don't know what colors I want to paint the walls or where I'm going to hang our diplomas.
I know it'll get better. Boxes will disappear and items will be put away. I will find the baby tylenol and my hair dryer. My linen closet will have neat stacks of towels and the pantry will have rows of canned goods.
This is what I repeat to myself every day:
But sometimes this is what happens: