I have newfound respect for the old Baltimore Colts franchise, who managed to move to Indianapolis in one night. My family and I moved into our new home this past weekend. I am reminded why the last time I moved I was: (a) 8 years younger, and (b) single.
Moving is lots of things: exciting, invigorating, joyous. And stressful. Ahhhh...stress. Throw into the mix a 92-lb spaz of a yellow labrador and a 5+ mos. pregnant wife. The interaction between the two is quite something to behold, as is the interaction's impact on me. Adding to the stress? Apparently what stresses one person, may not stress another, and therein is where the fun lay.
We have about...5...neighboring properties, each, judging from the playscapes in each of the respective backyards, having 2.2 kiddos. One might be tempted to conclude that this is a good thing, given that our first is on the way. If you are suffering from the throws of hormones thrust upon your body by the state of pregnancy, apparently, this is, in fact, not a good thing. You see, the new thing to worry about, ranking #2 out of 127 trackable and measurable Items of Worry (you do NOT want to know #1) is if the dog will bark at the neighbor kids through the fence. Not really high on my list, but very high on that of other occupants of the house. This means we have to drive to PetsMart and buy a bark collar, when I could be working (work does not stop) or unpacking boxes. Boxes, for some reason, stress me out. I cannot explain it: it is just corrugated cardboard. Whatever.
Incidentally, I would say #2 on my list is that my pregnant wife should NOT be lifting boxes of any kind. I fought that one hard over the course of the weekend.
Anyway, I am happy to report that the lovely and talented Mrs. Dr. Bosworth is very happy in her new digs. The dog loves the neighbor kids which he has met (and kissed, in only the way a 92-lb labrador knows how to great the little people). The pile o' boxes is dwindling. The master suite is in order. Mail keys have been secured. Cable TV and broadband internet are lit up. And surround speakers are wired. My beloved bride is settling in, and things are approaching steady state.
To celebrate, I enjoyed a beer on our new and spacious back patio last night. And our yellow dog did not even wear his bark collar. Shhh. Don't tell.
And the boxes will wait until another day.