Honey, I’m hooOoome!

A successful move is a lot like a successful birth: everyone’s delighted to simply report the healthy existence of all the participants at the end. No one expects that its not gonna be painful.

We are loving Larchmont. The kids are happy and have been embraced by their new schools. The house is really comfortable. We have fantastic neighbors. It is all just so good.

…but it hurts like hell. Even today.

We had the most amazing crew of movers. These guys were so good that the worst part of the actual move was that I was bored. I’m not so good at sitting around and letting other people do all the work. I begged them to give me some sort of pretend job just to keep me busy.  The kids were in Chicago for a week while we moved in. They refused. So I sat on a cushion in a corner by a radiator and read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer for a few days.

We then had a team of six professional organizers come in for three full days and put all of our stuff away. I get no pleasure from organizing and setting up a new home. I’ve done it quite enough in my lifetime, thankyouverymuch. I can’t imagine trying to start the kids in school, pay attention to their needs and pull together a Christmas whilst surrounded by piles of homeless personal debris. It is not an exaggeration to say that Patty, Ann and the team gave us six months of our life back.

My initial introduction to my new kitchen didn’t leave the best impression. There’s some kind of plumbing wackiness and the first time I turned on the garbage disposal, I got a faceful of filthy water that shot like a bidet out the other side of the sink. My range has four different-sized burners. Trying to figure out where to turn the dial to get the right heat on each one has been absurd. Oh- and my freezer lacks an ice maker. I actually have to haul home bags of ice. The best appliance in the kitchen is a super-fancy microwave. Great. I have 50 different settings I can use to nuke leftovers, melt butter and pop popcorn.

Nonetheless, I’m warming up to my new kitchen. A freestanding island from Ikea gave me the workspace I need and a place where I can work with the kids in the kitchen. My kitchen gets beautiful light, which I’m enthusiastic about showing you through my camera lens. The old-fashioned butler’s pantry with its original hardware and cabinets charms me in spite of the warped shelving and cracked glass. I envision the summer with the dutch door open, prepping at the island and listening to the kids playing safely in a big fenced yard.

I’m struggling to find new sources for great food. The good news is that there is a weekly year-round farmer’s market. The bad news is that my nearest Whole Foods is about 20 minutes away. The local chain grocery doesn’t do it for me. There’s a little health food grocery store nearby that looked promising- until a rodent decided to do a drive-by of my AGL ballet flats. Blech. I’m managing my attitude by telling myself that I’m “auditioning” new sources. It will take a while to find my “go-tos.”

Do you remember the scene in the movie Die Hard when Bruce Willis’ character, John McLaine has a shootout with the bad guys in a glass-enclosed office space? To prevent the bare-footed John’s escape, the villains shoot out all of the glass around him, seemingly trapping him in a prison of shards. In the next unforgettable scene, we see our hero dragging himself along the floor trailing his bloodied feet behind him. Defying pain and powered by determination, he makes it to safety in a bathroom so that he can pluck glass shards from his feet whilst chatting away with a friend on a police radio.

That particular scene came to mind as I decided that-in spite of the pain- it was time to drag myself back to my life and Ready Prep Go!. The endless items on my to-do list are my glass shards. The amount of stuff I want/need to get done- I never know which it is-is crushing, cacophonous and endless. It could consume me if I let it.

I’ve relocated enough times to know that the only way to survive a massive life change like this is to get on with living. The most important stuff gets done in the first 6 weeks. Everything else will simply have to be accomplished in time. I will have to hope for ample grace from the people around my as I keep fumbling my way through this “settling in” process.

So grateful to be back.