The Move
I am still squeemish about furnishing the new house with the "Permanency Hearing" still pending. The quiet voice is urging me to proceed as though it is decided and Big Bro is fully expecting the School Train to launch even more smoothly in 2020 from "My Beautiful New House" than it did from the old house. Big Sis agreed, but I am far from certain her 3 year old perspective fully understands what that means. Even if the children are only here for a few weeks of 2020, keeping that promise to Big Bro and Big Sis is on my radar as an important promise to keep.
Hubs and I decided to start with moving the children's goodies. We are theorating that starting there will do the double duty of uncovering the strictly personal geezer needs that got buried in the lifeslide which commenced with the quasi-disasterous christening of the honey/herbal extraction room of the honey barn. Quasi-disasterous because the first honey harvest was accomplished, but none too efficiently and the job remains unfinished, 6 months later. The second half of 2019 has been a rough ride, even before the custody shuffle. Our geriatric needs are accumulating in dangerous quantities. Given the void of a middle generation in this equation, those needs are feeling critical. Can we afford to act old and used up? Do we get a choice in the matter? Leaving that mystery be for now, on our list of current possibilities is the possibility of using this ramshackle shack as a geriatric care center. A place where Hubs and I can retreat to tend our strictly personal needs uninterrupted. No kidding around, folks! ! ! Geezer neglect carries a high penalty.
We did little more than rest yesterday. Hubs is taking the week off from his paid job for the move and vague hopes of a few rest periods between the shuffle. I am feeling fit and ready to focus this morning. So far. I am still in my meditation hour and the real test of my daily inventory starts when I get up and attempt to get the energies rolling down a single tract. Hubs has yet to be heard from this morning. In him I trust to marshall his own resources. For an old work-a-holic juggling 3 full-time jobs, rest is an especially productive activity. Stay true to your own pulse, my love.
Are we retired yet? We've wondered if we should ask the middle-aged children in the southern retirement center for retirement tips. We certainly donae feel comfortable asking them for a helping hand. Nap time is even more important in a retirement center than it is in a Child's Day Care.
Onward through the fog. . . Whatever way this madness works out, it will work out. At least, that's my prayer and I'm sticking to it.
Replies
I think I can understand the feeling hesitant to start decorating the new house as the hearing is still undecided but I personally think preparing in advanced will be helpful and less taxing in the long run.
Personally I’ve always found leaving some of the moving in parts to when my girls were available a helpful start to a new house. It bonded us together and to our new home (we’ve had so many). We brought in the furniture but let them help choose the arrangements and then direct the decorating.
Just a thought.
Rest is good, my busy friend and even though it’s a good opportunity to take care of some of the heavy duty moving without GKs underfoot, you & hubs also need some down time after all that you’ve both been going through.
Hugs & love my friend & Merry Holiday.
We did similar wise for our sons, V. The recently traumatized GK's havenae ever had rooms of their own. While they are excited at the concept, it remains foreign to them with ominous rumblings from the grown-up world that ? ? ? WTF are the rumblings from the grown-up world?
If I am translating their responses to preference questions correctly, they mostly want a secure base to stabilize on.
I'm far more engineer than decorator. That secure base is my current focus. I'll save the decorating for them, all in their own time. Mobility is an OCD point in my personal engineering design. Rearranging will be easy by design.
I recently was watching a rerun of the TV show NYPD Blue, and in it Detective Sipowicz, the protagonist, goes through a health scare. Once it's all over, he says words that should be chiseled in stone, if you ask me now that I'm in my 60s. He says something like, "getting old sure isn't for cowards." So I'm with you for sure about the getting old part alone, not to mention that you're raising another generation of children now. Whew! Sticking to praying along with you.
I took the smoking statistics as a guarantee that I wouldnae have to endure too much old age. . . I have often joked that if God wants me to celebrate my 100th birthday, she/he/it would have to drag me there, kicking and screaming.
AA-A-A-A-A-A-A-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-H-H-H-H-H! ! ! ! !
#%$%i&*^o&%#o*&{)(_}{p*i&$$%*po&rreweyut%$%$^
NO FUCKING FAIR! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
On my 75th birthday, these children will be 9, 13 and 16 years old. Sigh. . . Our retirement planners didn't make room for that one.
They will take care of each other always. As you have said so often, Let God lead the dance. Support and prayers.