After an unexpected hiatus from blogging while we moved from South Carolina to Pennsylvania, you would think I have stories to tell, pictures to post, and lots to catch up on.
You would be right. š
But I am very quiet right now. I just came through spending a week in hotels, being away from the Internet (which, turns out, can do a girl some good even though that meant that I watched a little too much political mumbo jumbo on the TV in the hotel room), trying to comfort a toddler who has been out of sorts since we left his familiar surroundings, and Iām trying to breathe now that our furniture and billions of boxes are actually inside the house.
I have stories to tell, and lots of pictures to share, and goodness knows I have a lot of blogs to catch up on and emails to read (and phone calls to make! Kerry!). But this past week has been such an emotional roller-coaster (complete with standing in the middle of the road and sobbing at times) that it is all I can do do unpack a box every two or three hours. Which makes me feel guilty as pie but as my Dad told me tonight, it just doesnāt really matter in the long run whether all the boxes are unpacked this weekend or next weekend. Or the weekend after that, orā¦erm, okay so dear Internet, I promise I will have things unpacked, cleaned, and sparkling as soon as I can.
Pennsylvania is very different than South Carolina. Duh, the Yankees! But I also have spotted things like FARMS, boroughs, Sheetz, FARMS, āoil and chipsā signs (which have more to do with pavement instead of a yummy snack by the side of the road), lots and lots of historical landmarks, FARMS, and everyone keeps saying, āI thought you might be from one of the Carolinaās.ā
Two things are healing to me right now. First, Fall seems to be dancing herself around the corner (Jason, it sounds like you are hungering for her as well and you know that we both get melodramatic and creative at this time of the year) from the look of the leaves on our lawn. Second, I know that this new chapter is of God so when I get overwhelmed I just remember that truth and peace floods my soul. What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee.
Tomorrow, my father-in-law and my favorite brother-in-law-whose-name-starts-with-B (hehe) are coming over to chop our queen sized box springs in half. Yes, you read that correctly. When the moving guys attempted to take it up the stairs, they asked if we wanted to sign a form allowing them to give it a good old shove up the stairs. Another words, they were afraid they were going to damage the walls and ceiling. Soooo, we said no. And now we are going to chop our bed. There is ALWAYS a solution, folks. Always.
Now I will post this and get back to unpacking boxes so that when Daniel gets home from a late-night coding session with Sam, he will think, āOh, what an amazing wife I have! I will go out and buy her sweet tea and cookies and pie and chocolate and sweet tea and cookies and pie and chocolate. And sweet tea!ā
I would not have a problem with that, even though I am trying to be squishy no more. The reason is because our stairs are very steep (itās like hiking, but with a/c, carpet, no bugs, and no view) and since I trek them 34,412 times a day I am thinking I will be skinny as a lamp (one of those curvy but delectable type lamps) pole in about a week. So, all the sweet tea and pie couldnāt hurt tonight. Right?
Is it obvious that Iām stressed about the boxes? And that when Iām stressed I tend to eat my feelings? š
Anyway, back to unpacking.