I’ve posted the background over the last few days, here and here; now comes the story:

We decided to downsize and move into an apartment.  I haven’t lived in one since, oh, 1989, and never in a big complex – you know, one with pools, weight room, clubhouse, tennis courts, etc.  The one we picked has a lake, too.  Should be interesting.  Of course, it does have washer/dryer hook-ups, one of my requirements; haven’t used a Laundromat since about 1985.  Our new place, however, requires stackables – which means, of course, washing about three items per load.  Sigh.

Whenever we’ve moved, we’ve had a system of packing.  First, we start with all the stuff we can find that we want to get rid of – this time, since we’re downsizing as well, I have a good excuse to get rid of things I’m just tired of, like our bed.  I can deal with just a metal frame, till I find something I like better.  So we’ve listed lots of things for sale, and thrown out some others, and I’ve already gone through all those boxes of “memorabilia”.  Even found some things that my daughter was supposed to have taken to her own place, three years ago.  Grrrr.

And, big news, I finished shredding!  Two boxes of papers, receipts, etc., two years’ worth.  I am so utterly sick of that cheapo shredder – but it did the job, and I only had to un-jam it twenty times or so.

Anyway, now we’re on the walls.  No, not climbing them, packing up whatever is hanging on them; that, and any knick-knacks that are still lying around.  So my house isn’t “pretty” right now, no big deal.  This might take a day, or even half. 

My son was tasked today with getting rid of stuff in his room.  First, he brought out the old X-Box, the one my husband took apart three times to make it work again, and which we now use for parts.  I took one look and handed it over to let my husband make that call; check another thing off my list.  Son also brought me a box of rocks.

My kids seem to have a thing for rocks.  My daughter had a boxful that we moved from Missouri to Colorado to another house in Colorado (’cause Colorado doesn’t have any flippin’ rocks, ya know) to Texas.  And twice more.  We finally ditched them.  My son, however, thankfully, has no such attachment.  He found the box, the contents of which he’s collected since we’ve been in this house, and took out one arrowhead and told me to dump the rest.  Great kid!

My husband is not a fan of moving rocks.  Or books, for that matter.  I did point out, a year or so ago, that if I had, say, a Kindle, moving would be a lot easier in that respect…. 

After the walls and knick-knacks are finished, we’ll move on to a very broad category of “stuff we can live without for a few weeks”.  I’ll pack up a lot of the kitchen, the linen closets, out-of-season clothes, movies, CDs, DVDs; my son will pack up toys, Legos, miscellaneous stuff, Legos, his desk, Legos, and more Legos.  Yes, we have a lot.  We graduated to them after the train phase.  Oh, we have a lot of those too – they multiply at night, when everyone else is sleeping. 

And we’ll be having some company in the coming weeks – who fortunately never stay with us, so it’s all good.  In fact, they may not even make it over here, we might have to just meet someplace else.  No worries.  But, just in case, my house does have to be clean – and for showing purposes too, of course.

Which is another issue.  I first emailed the property management company on June 11, giving 30 days’ notice, and asked what we needed to do prior to vacating; I also asked if we could terminate on July 18, which is earlier than the lease is up but more than 30 days’ notice.

A week later, I wrote him again.  This time he answered, sort of – said “sounds good, let me know when I can show the house”.  I’m not too worried about this part because, another week later, he has yet to list it as available.  I still don’t know what he wants us to do, like carpets, cleaning, windows, etc.  Of course, there are things we have to do, or rather, my husband has to do: fix the basement door that the dog scratched, fix the screen door that the cat tore up.  Plus the usual move-out cleaning.  Guess owning a cleaning business, a few years or so ago, comes in handy now, huh?

So, we’ll muddle through.  If I can get over this head cold in a reasonable amount of time, that is.  Never rains but it pours, right?  Figures.  I do have a bit of energy at the moment, so I better get in gear…M minus  three weeks!

A few days ago, I posted an older article I’d written on moving an entire household a distance of about 800 miles, give or take a few.  Ah, the memories…blech!

So, I thought I’d give a running commentary on this most recent insane decision, moving again.  Now, a lot of people – especially around here – never move; and I do mean “never”.  I’ve heard people say their starter home is also their retirement home – I just cannot imagine.  My dad always thought we moved a lot – maybe so, and no, my husband was not military, just retail.

I got to thinking and I realized that I have moved, on average, every three years.  Is that a lot?  Since I still remember Dad’s comment, I looked back and noticed that, from birth to age 13, I moved three times – that’s when I lived with him, and that was roughly every four years.  So what’s excessive? 

The shortest time I lived somewhere was six months – as a young, broke, college student.  That was extreme, yes, I agree, but the plus side was that I had very little to actually move and since I went back home, a mere two hours’ drive, it was relatively painless.

The longest duration was eight years, when I was a kid.  Now, keep in mind that I didn’t change schools and it was the same general area; much like two of our more recent moves, with the kids.  Oh, and this one coming up, too.

Back to the present move.  We made the decision a few weeks ago, and we’ve been downsizing ever since.  Ugh.  I did actually throw out some stuff, papers mostly, and we’re selling some furniture and miscellaneous things – garage sale coming up July 10^th, if you’re in the STL area!  Just sayin’.

The basement is about half done; the garage is looking good.  ‘Course, a lot of stuff is now sitting in a storage unit, and more is headed that direction.  Thank goodness we have a truck.  We’re actually only losing a couple hundred square feet of living space, but, um, we’re also losing the basement and garage!  I do have to laugh whenever an apartment complex says they have “lots of storage” – ha!

And yes, the move is just across town.  No biggie, especially since our family has moved, oh, from central Missouri to western Missouri, to Colorado (two towns), to Texas (three homes), and back to Missouri.  Now that I mention it, just thinking about all that makes me want to crawl back into bed until it’s all over:

First move: not huge, an hour away, two kids, two cats, one dog.

Second move: had two weeks to find a house, pack, and move 800 miles; two kids, one pregnant mother, no pets.

Third move: same state, three kids, no pets, husband working nights, house not ready for six weeks so lived in four different hotels.  Fun times, I’m tellin’ ya!

Fourth move: to a 900 square foot house, three kids, one dog, long, hot, dusty drive through New Mexico and Texas.  ACK!!!!

Fifth move: to a much bigger house, on a ranch, where we had $800 electric bills.  And that was just for one month.  Acquired a cat.

Sixth move: I swore this was the LAST one.  Ha.  Don’t swear, it’s bad.  Same area, though, still in Texas.

Seventh move: 800+ miles, two days of driving.  One U-haul, one car, one truck pulling a 20-foot trailer, one mother, one husband, me, two kids, two dogs, two cats.  This was supposed to be for a year, tops.  It lasted three.

Eighth move: now you’re all caught up!

So there you have it – I’m tired reading all this, but have to get my behind in gear and stick with The List.  Yes, I meant to capitalize that, The List is a must-have for any adventure such as moving – especially now that we’re down to one kid, one dog, but still two cats; oh yeah, and FOUR hamsters!