Packing up and moving out

Well, I'm happy (and somewhat sad) to say that Incompetent pulled through--we sold our house. We have exactly three weeks and two days to pack up all of our worldly possessions and move. Where are we moving, you ask? That's a topic for another post...now its time to focus on the fact that I've been buried in a sea of cardboard boxes, packing tape, and five years worth of crap that we've seemed to accumulate while trying to occupy an 18 month old (let's just say she's had her Sesa fix a little more often lately!). And where is Husband through all of this? New Zealand. Skiing. Yep, that's right. I'm sorting through 50 pairs of jeans and attempting to fit martini glasses into a box made for white wine glasses while Husband is in "the most beautiful place on the planet, baby! Let's move here!!!". Now, to be fair, Husband is technically in New Zealand on a work trip, but that really doesn't make me feel any better when packing up 19 boxes of books. Not fun. In addition, I am attempting to schedule contractors to take care of the few things that we need to have done per the home inspector prior to closing. The most fun I've had this week is spending hours in the blazing sun digging out the ginormous flower boxes that the previous owner's son decided to place right up next to the house when building the deck. Apparently dirt next to the foundation of a house isn't a good idea. Umm, duh. Given the quality of the flower boxes and the deck itself, I'd say the previous owner's son wasn't playing with a full deck (pun intended).

So, yeah, while Pete is hanging out with the hobbits in the picturesque land where the Lord of the Rings trilogy was filmed, I'm just having a keen time hauling 200 pounds of magazines out to the curb for recycling, wrestling with my grandmother's overgrown rosebush so I can take it with us when we go, and staring incredulously at the sheer volume of baby stuff that has taken over our basement. Fun stuff.