Remember that May 1 post where I wandered aimlessly around the house not knowing what to pack? We have officially hit the other end of the spectrum. While J was taking his 90 minute morning nap, I managed to pack up a good deal of the kitchen. Once he awoke, I moved upstairs. My closet is now bare as well as all but 2 drawers (hey, a gal needs pjs and, well, drawers - TMI?). Is it wrong to want a box big enough to just dump ALL of the remaining crap into and then just sort it out at the new place?
The poor dog is getting anxious, too. Fran wanders around, following me from room to room with a look of "Hey, what are you doing with that?" on her face. She wants to know why everything is going into the apparently tasty brown boxes. With the amount of boxes in our home at this point, I am amazed there is anything left to pack. I've created a bit of a claustrophobic maze for us into which both the toddler and the dog occasionally disappear.
On the bright side of life, I have procured a summer babysitter to come every Monday from 1-5 and every Friday from 9-5. You can't see me, gentle reader, but rest assured I am in my chair this very moment dancing a jig. Stephanie will begin helping us out next Friday so that we can really unpack the heck out of the house. Jack loves her. We love her. She loves Jack. It is a lovefest all around. What a great situation to stumble upon! We're still hoping to get J into the JCC sometime soon to help with socialization, but this certainly will help me out in the next few months. Now, if only I could pay her extra to cram some of this stuff into boxes...
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