In transit

Not sure how this is going to come out as I'm posting from my phone. And my Blogger app keeps crashing.

So, we are officially moved out of our house.  We're staying in a great little Air BnB until we leave in a couple of days' time.

At this point, I am already sick of the upheaval and the temporary everything.  I'm ready to be settled in our house, with all our stuff, back into the normal daily routine without the rushing to and fro, the general disruption to every facet of our day.  And of course you can multiply that by about fifty when you add little kids into the mix.  Even though our accommodation is great, I'm tired of not knowing where anything is, where even getting the girls' breakfast is a mission.

The movers arrived at our house on Monday at 7.30am on the dot and boy do they move.  GET IT!!  Move.

Ok, moving on.  Alright I really will stop now.

I had thought we were super organised and ready and had even had a private little fantasy that the movers would come in and say, "Wow, you people are so organised!".  Well, no.  That was not to be.  Turns out we weren't even a little bit as ready as we should have been and consequently things have been packed that we didn't want to be packed, and so things that we wanted to have packed had to be left behind.

Next time (HA!! There will be no next time) I will be way more ready.  Although it did give me lots of opportunities to say I TOLD YOU SOOO to B who had been pooh-poohing my cleaning/sorting/throwing out efforts that began a couple of months ago.  Maybe I wasn't ready.  But B really wasn't ready.

That first day was total chaos and I thanked my lucky stars that my little baby A is still young enough and un-sleep-trained enough that she was willing and able to fall asleep in the pram as I required her to do.  J went off to daycare which was also an absolute blessing.

Speaking of the girls, they are still both coughing like pack a day smokers so I took J off the to doctor to ensure that she'd be ok to fly.  Turns out she needs a course of antibiotics.  GREAT.  Considering that she literally hasn't been sick in six months, the timing here is truly a marvel.  And now I have to take A back to the doctor to see if she too needs the drugs.

So the movers were done with the house by Tuesday lunchtime.  And none of them even sat down in the driveway crying once, which is what I probably would have done at least once if I'd had to pack that house.  It is expensive but it is definitely THE way to move.  And apparently they unpack it all for us at the other end!!  I know.

While all that's been going on, I've been hanging out at the accommodation with the baby which sounds pretty sweet except she can't sit up by herself.  This means she requires to be held constantly, which takes my productivity levels dangerously close to zero, or I have to put her on the floor.  You'd think that's a reasonable thing to do with a baby - I do give her toys to play with after all - but oh sweet baby cheeses the screaming.  And I mean SCREAMING.  Ear ringing, I-swear-I-am-not-murdering-this-baby, piercing screaming.  Because I laid her on a flat surface.  Girlfriend better learn to sit up REAL soon.

See that nice soft grass with the waving palms?  Looks like a nice place to lie doesn't it?  INCORRECT.  Baby A does not care for grass, or for a rug on the grass, or for any of your ridiculous ideas about where babies should spend their time.

Oh look, here's some evidence that I have taken a wee feet-up break for myself.  You're damn right I did.

Biggie Smalls, while extremely furious about not being allowed outside, seems to be coping pretty ok.  He's found a suitable sun-drenched snoozing location and has assumed the position.  He will be taken away tomorrow to board over Easter weekend and then fly to NZ next week.  Poor little mite.  He probably won't be looking quite so relaxed by then.

In other, more alarming, Biggie Smalls news, he did actually get himself outside the other night.  Turns out there is a cat flap on one of the windows and he was able to jump out.  Unfortunately he was unable to get back in.  LUCKILY he is Biggie Smalls and immediately commenced scratching frantically at the cat flap trying to get back inside, which woke us up with a start and we were able to let him back in.  Another cat might have shrugged its shoulders (or, you know what I mean), and disappeared into the night.  Thank goodness that's not who he is.   It would have been several thousand dollars in transportation costs down the drain, for a start.

You're a good boy pusscat.  A very good boy.

So that's where we are at the moment.  Tired, dusty, a bit stressed, with a smattering of stress-excema on our faces and hands (ok that's just me), but also REALLY excited and pumped to get to our destination.

We're so close!!

Just think, next time I write, we will be LIVING IN NEW ZEALAND.