It's Been Real

(I promise to fill in the moving gaps from where I left off on Friday sometime in the coming week, assuming we have any access to the internet at all upon finally getting to Franklin. Today, however, I felt the need to address the business of the movers and the problems and concerns they elicit.)

The moving company comes tomorrow. So I guess that means that we are, in fact, really moving. I've been in denial for a good month over this, but I think it will definitely slap me in the face tomorrow when a bunch of presumably bearded, burly, lumberjack types show up at my door and begin packing up all of our personal belongings. And in no way will that be awkward.

This particular fact gave me momentary pause.


Do we own anything that might prove potentially embarrassing to a group of random strange men?
Have I or any other member of my family left underwear in a strange place?
Are there any dead diapers lurking behind doors or under couches?
Should I do the right thing and be discrete and pack my own tampons, or do I let the movers fight over that particular pleasure?
What is proper mover/home-owner etiquette? Is there such a thing, or is this basically just destined to be the most bazaar and uncomfortable day of my life? I'm convinced it's going to be the latter...

All are pressing concerns that I have between now and 8 a.m. tomorrow morning to consider. Most likely I will forget to look for randomly misplaced diapers and panties. And the chances of me lifting a finger to pack anything after moving so many times on our own are just about slim to none. Sorry, burly men. You're just going to have to take one for the team and pack my toiletries yourself. Had I not been in the midst of my second move in less than five months, I might be more inclined to make your time in my house slightly less awkward. But as it is, I'll most likely have my hands full with keeping my three-year-old from packing herself into one of your boxes, hurdling herself head-first off of the displaced furnishings, and stealing away on your truck. I will also be working hard to keep my infant from ruining your life by providing her own delightful brand of conversation, namely incessant crying and screeching. You can thank me when this is all over.

Luckily for you gentlemen, we just went through all of these moving shenanigans less than five months ago. Which means that we can't possibly have accumulated that much more during that small window of time. Besides another child. And a mountain of hand-me-down clothes. And every possible article of baby gear available to man. And an additional half-dozen or so pieces of furniture.

On second thought, better you than me this time. 

Assuming the majority of our belongings make it to the new apartment intact, and assuming nothing "drops off the back of the truck" on the way down (which absurdly assumes in itself that we have anything actually worth "dropping of the back of a truck"), I think this is most likely going to be the best moving experience we have ever had.

Wish us luck... And GO STEELERS!