Today is our first Thanksgiving with Doodle. Well, the second really. How is that possible, you say? He’s only 8 months old. Well, we have two Thanksgivings in this family. We celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving as the Rocket Scientist and I are Canadian, and as we are in Rome, we must do as they do. That, and Doodle technically is American (we don’t have his Canadian citizenship yet). So today, I am a very sleepy, thankful Mommy. I couldn’t imagine giving up any of the sleepless nights of the last few months, getting done any or all of the projects I’ve fallen behind in, being actually on time for so many of the things I’ve been late for, or missing out on a single precious moment with my son. Thank You, dear God, for the most wonderful gift ever.
We had 3 surveyors come through the house today to guesstimate how much stuff we had to move so they could tell us how much it will cost. I have to say I’m looking forward to the next move because it will be a faculty position and our moving expenses will be paid so I won’t have to sort through my life and decide what I can afford to keep. This has had my stomach in knots for days. I’m waiting for the ‘official’ estimates, but everyone seems to think we have about 2500 lbs of stuff. And that’s mostly boxes, almost no furniture is going with us, how sad is that. The approximation tends to run about $10/cft. and the consensus seems to be that we would have about 400 cft of stuff. So that’s about $4,000 just to move stuff, besides the port fees and taxes, and handling fees, and service fees, and packing fees, and losing our stuff fees, and insurance fees, and taking longer than promised fees, and unloading fees, and whatever else they charge for events like this. I’ll wait to see what they come back with. (Read: I am taking any excuse to not start the sorting process just yet.)
What have I done that has allowed such trauma into my 7 and a half month old’s life that he has resorted to such awful screaming fits when he’s confronted with the need to sleep but not met with the ability to fall asleep within the first five minutes? Doodle, my lovely son, the one everyone tells me is such a happy boy, that even when he’s fussing, wizened mothers will note that he really does want to be cheerful he’s just tired, is these days having such fits that he sounds like he’s dying and he’s pretty sure it’s me who’s killed him.
Gone are the days of sleeping in for one thing. I don’t know when, but somewhere along the line, 7am became a wonderful lie-in. Makes me a little ill, to be honest. And now that Doodle is much more aware of the fact that Mommy isn’t always paying attention and if he grunts enough times in a particularly grating way she will inevitably stop what she is doing and see to him, the only time I have to get anything done is when the Rocket Scientist is home on the weekends. Then the problem becomes that everyone knows we are leaving soon so they all want to be able to have us over or take us out to lunch. Don’t get me wrong, I’m loving all the free food, and to be sure there are some that I would just live with them for the next month to soak up all the time I could get, but it does present an issue when I look at my ‘to do’ list and I see the days flying by on the calendar and nary a crossed-off item to be seen.
And here is where I would have gone into a list of all the things I meant to do this weekend and how they got curtailed by time spent with friends and me once again thinking I could handle a foster dog for a few days despite all my craziness but alas, Doodle has woken up.
The Rocket Scientist says we must keep track of this saga. I’m not really sure why, my ability to block large segments of my life from memory has served me well in the past. But I suppose he’s right, we’ll want to share all the excitement of Doodle’s early life with him when he’s older. And who knows, we may even laugh about it all. And if not, I can simply delete all record of it and go back to forgetting.
So I think that is going to have to be my new name for this blog. We are headed to England, baby! Oxford to be exact. We’re not sure how we feel about moving to such a small city, only about 151,000 people. The Rocket Scientist chooses to look at it as a suburb of London. Whatever helps him sleep at night. We’ve known for a few days now and I have really been wanting to sit down and blog about it, but there’s just so much running around in my head I’m having trouble actually pinning words down. Maybe now that it’s out there as an announcement, I’ll be able to focus more on all the details and stuff.