… because I am not moving houses again.
But I always do though, because such is the nature of my husband’s profession.
We move. A lot.
You could say I am quite the professional box packer.
I can handle that packing tape like no one’s business.
Assemble those flat boxes like only a seasoned mover can.
You may or may not have noticed I have been ignoring my poor little blog.
I missed it.
So how are you all?
I’m finally in my new house, with a lot of stuff done but a lot still to do.
And I have learnt a few things in this move and they are:
I feel like an awful mother in the moving process
I am in a sea of boxes and and quite literally in the “zone” when my 18 month old asks me for teddies. I give. Even if its 10am.
My 4 year old asks for McDonalds for dinner. To avoid cooking with aching legs from packing all day, I drive, drive away to those golden arches.
The TV, which is not usually on all day, is their unofficial babysitter, because, you know, distraction.
And if I got a dollar for every time I said “Don’t touch!”
I would quite literally be loaded. I am sure these kids hated me last week.
But to be fair to moi
I did all the packing on my own. Hubby was doing double training sessions and our family was working and busy in Sydney. But they came for the move, where I had my Mum come to help unpack and my Mother-in-law as the unofficial child entertainment. They of course loved the attention especially after all the “don’t touches!”
Perhaps they don’t realise anymore that I am their mother?
We are nearly all moved in.
My children are now banned from eating fast food for quite a few years and now have a diet that consists of fruit, carrots and grains.
Ok so that’s an exaggeration but they are definitely eating much better and the TV is having a well earned break.
And as for me, I managed to steal a few minutes to write this even if it means as soon as I sign off I have to work on our new wine websites.
And next week is my darling girl’s 4th birthday! So much to do, so much to organise.
It never ends.