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My motherly instinct, when I hear something crash down onto the floor above me, is "Oh no, did the bookshelf in Charlie's room fall over?", as I picture my son crushed under an avalanche of very worn hardbacks, or- "Did the baby abandon ship from her crib?", imagining her pulling a light hearted and well intentioned Kate Winslet, without a faithful Leo to coax her away from the edge. But this time, its not my kids.

Because this isn't our house.

There is a different family upstairs. Who knows where they're from or where they're going- all I know is, their kids are staying up way later than ours, and they like to jump. I don't mind the sound, I'm used to it. I just can't help but think its a fallen lava lamp every time I hear a thud, or Evelyn got locked in the bathroom again, every time theres a scream.

Its strange, cooking dinner on a stove other than our own. Or washing dishes in a sink where the garbage disposal is clearly on the wrong side. There are carpets on the floor instead of laminate, heater units randomly placed on walls instead of the ceiling, and the beds are so high we have to give the kids a chair ladder in order to pull themselves up. Wearing them out at the zoo and then the Natural Food Center really wore them out though- they were able to fall asleep a lot easier than anticipated. Charlie did mention once at dinner time "I want to go home", which was hard. "This is our home for right now", we told him. "For the next week or so, until we move into a new home, and then another".

"I want our old one", was his reply. [insert heart breaking, while simultaneously getting stronger, here]



A huge thank you to Chris and Steve for giving us your man power to get the Uhaul loaded (even though I'm 100% positive that neither of you will ever read this blog, ever). Without you we'd probably still be struggling to get the washer and dryer out the door.

Seeing all of our things piled up inside of that giant truck makes me cringe- unloading it into a place half the size from whence it came is going to be a nightmare. We'll need a storage unit for sure. And even then- why do we need so many processions? This is something that plagues me daily. Maybe I can get Christopher on board with me for a giant stuff-dump, when we get to where we're going.

Until then, we'll live simply, using the bare minimum provided for us in our TLF, and enjoy our last few days here at Dyess.