And so it begins...

Well, I packed 6 boxes this afternoon and then had to stop for crying. What the hell is wrong with me?
We don't even know if we have the house definitely, or not. We could be homeless! (Drama Queen)
So, I abandoned packing and found comfort on the internet. I returned some emails, processed a photo order, Flickred and read some blogs (which resulted in crying.)
I am a mess. I think I am just a ball of emotion right now. I never realized what a Security Freak I am. I can't deal with everything being up in the air.

I was at the dentist's office the other day, thinking about nothing but moving and stressing over money. I picked up the March issue of Real Simple. I absent-mindedly flipped through the pages while pondering over storage space. We'll have to buy large armoires for every room. How can we afford that? I flipped another page and saw a photograph of a jar full of change. The title: "What's the most surprising financial advice you've ever received?"
I was meant to pick up that magazine. I was fated to read that article. I even felt a little calmer and more positive. I did feel a little guilty walking out of the office with it though.

Here were some of the more creative bits of advice (paraphrased)-

• Each time you are intimate with your spouse, put a dollar in a small box by the bed. By the time you've been married 20 years, you can take that luxury vacation you've always dreamed about.
• Live on cash only.
• Spend extra money on making memories, not on material things.
• If money is your only problem, it's not a problem, just an inconvenience.
• Marry rich.

Okay, if Tim and I tried that first one, we'd only be saving like $2 a month. All the more reason to try it, right?
The second one? That one I totally aspire to. Tim and I have already decided it will happen.
The next two hit home. I want to live by those words. I want to internalize them, make them mine. A simpler life- that's what I want.
The last one, that's just funny.

Moving reminds me of the day my family and I left our childhood home in Indiana. My little sister and I were in the back seat with a parakeet between us. My father put the car into gear and started to back out of the driveway. At that moment, my mother sobbed in a way I'd never heard before.
I didn't understand that feeling until today. It's not only this house that I'm leaving behind. It's six years of memories. It's baby feet timidly climbing up the stairs. It's the familiar sound of the toilet filling or the crickets chirping. It's the window seat where I've always changed Audrey's diaper. It's the bedroom floor where I slipped and laughed which ended a heated argument between Tim and I. It's the backyard where many friends have joined us in building bonfires. It's the window, to my left, that I've stared out of for so many hours. It's so many things.

Two things happened this afternoon that made it alright to begin packing again.

1. Audrey, after walking in from day care said, "Where all the phones go?" I said, "They are packed in that box. Right there." And then she said, "We're moving to a new house!"
2. The lyrics of a Cat Power song: "What comes is better than what came before."

Side note:
While packing tonight, Audrey kept getting in the way. Tim got very frustrated and said, "Audrey, you're driving me nuts." In her attempt to repeat it (as she repeats everything these days) she said, "It's driving in my nuts!"
This came a week after she told her daddy, "My penis hurts."