People say that moving is the second most stressful life experience you can go through, the first being losing a loved one. I’ve always turned up my nose at that factoid. How could you consider moving anywhere within the realm of heartache associated with grieving over a loved one? And while I continue to believe that moving is not as hard as a lot of the other life experiences we’ve been through — including, of course, losing loved ones, but also starting a business, having a baby, raising a puppy, contending with illness in the family, supporting loved ones going through difficult times, and even working for a truly horrible boss, I really really really really really hope that I don’t need to move again any time soon. And I really really really really wish I could fast forward to a few weeks from now when we are settled into our new home and new routine and everything we’re living through right now fades into a distant memory. I am overwhelmed at the moment by details, contingency plans, the 230894898 non-refundable fees and deposits associated with moving into an apartment in NYC (holy hell), the horrible case of Murphy’s Law we’ve been contending with, and, through it all, the raw and oversized emotion I feel with this major life change.
I was rocking minimagpie to sleep just an hour ago (it’s currently 8:13 p.m. the night before the movers come), looking around at the familiar shapes and shadows of her nursery, choking back tears as I remembered the many months dedicated to sourcing her gorgeous wallpaper, and selecting just the right crib, and tracking down the cutest nightlight, and identifying the best diaper pail, and arranging everything just so. And then the many months after spent rocking her in that exact spot, observing the passersby on the quiet residential street below her window, making mental notes of the gossip to pass along to Mr. Magpie, or reading on my Kindle, or texting with my sister, or smiling at the funny way mini holds her hands in mid-air while she’s sucking down a bottle, as though she’s testifying in Church — in other words, progressing through her nighttime routine entirely oblivious to the fact that my days putting her to sleep in this beautifully appointed nursery were numbered.
There’s a sharp feeling of finality that’s slicing through the air these last few days in our home in Chicago and I’m having trouble coming to terms with it.
There’s that, and there’s also the fact that I’m grouchy about all of the hurdles that we’ve found in our way. Things like last-minute requests from the condo board that could have been made over two weeks ago and handled as promptly that we’ve instead needed to urgently, stressfully dedicate half a day of precious Chicago time to when we have 23 other tasks that need to get done. Things like a sudden, second $1000 “move-in deposit” (the second! THE SECOND! and totally unrelated to the first move in deposit, the security deposit, the broker fees, the two months rent, the multiple application and credit report processing fees, etc, etc, etc AD FINITUM) that we’ve needed to procure a cashier’s check for and FedEx overnight. Things like realizing I’d need to procure a travel crib because there will be a gap between when we arrive in New York and when our moving trucks do, only to realize the one I’d selected would take over 10 days to arrive — and then spending the better part of a morning calling every baby store in Chicago and New York to see whether anyone had one in stock — and then realizing I SHOULD HAVE JUST PICKED ANOTHER DAMN TRAVEL CRIB. Things like trying to find pet-friendly hotels that aren’t insanely overpriced, or figuring out what will actually fit in our SUV when we already have a baby, two adults, and a large dog cluttering its confines. I’ve been trying to go with the flow and pretend as though everything is just fine, but this is what I feel like:
I am not, usually, I don’t think, a whiner. Or I pray I am not, because I realize how fortunate I am and rarely does a day go by when I don’t say as much to Mr. Magpie. (Will you forgive this aberration, Magpies?) And I had been moodily pecking out this post when I looked down and glanced over two recent text exchanges — one with a dear friend who is expecting her second baby in a matter of days and has received some less than optimal information about the upcoming labor and delivery process, and the other with a dear friend who spent the better part of today with a pediatric specialist, hoping to rule out the possibility of a rare syndrome for which her six-week-old son was at risk.
Shame on me.
Life is bigger than this.
Life is bigger than these details, than these fleeting moments of frustration and grouchiness and fees and, yes, even the maudlin musings over minimagpie’s nursery. There will be other nurseries, and other happy spaces, and other happy memories and — as one of you lovely readers put it in a recent email: just remember that home is where your loved ones are.
So now I will turn on Seinfeld, and pour a glass of wine, and eat the too-spicy-for-me “Dan Dan Noodles” we just ordered from our favorite Chinese delivery spot, and appreciate the quiet of the right here and right now in this place we have loved on this couch we have hated. (PSA: never buy this couch. It’s cute and petite but it is NOT COMFORTABLE and YOUR HUSBAND WILL WHINE ABOUT IT FOR THE BETTER PART OF TWO YEARS.)
And also, share a few random things:
+This is THE BEST UMBRELLA EVER. It is itty bitty and lightweight but very well-made. Ideal for the working woman in New York where every square inch of her bag — like her apartment — is precious real estate.
+Thinking of having custom roman shades made by this Etsy gem of a store for our new apartment.
+This dress is under $60 but looks like something from RedValentino. So adorable.
+I love this coat.
+I think I need this book for mini.
+I have a blue and white marbled pitcher that looks a lot like this one — I use it as a vase!
+If you missed out on the jumpsuit I ordered for the holidays, consider this one instead!
+Very on trend. (Remember my obsession?)
+Do any fellow organization-obsessed folks LOVE the idea of this for saran wrap storage?!
+Will you judge me as much as Mr. Magpie does when I confess that this is one of my all-time favorite candies? (Eeeee.)
P.S. If you need a laugh, and you have a child and therefore an appreciation for this book, check this out. Thanks to my girl Bunny for sending this over! I needed a laugh!