Life Lately.

I don't really like these posts, the "brain dump-y" kinds that don't necessarily serve any purpose other than word vomit on a page but the truth is, that's all I'm capable of right now as I sit here at my desk surrounded by papers and half-filled boxes and three mugs of days-old coffee. 
Gross. 
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I am a whole new kind of tired. A kind of tired I thought wasn't possible, considering I spent years running on little sleep and shift work. 
Halloween, Daylight Savings and the election all in the same week has to be some kind of sick joke for parents. Granted my kids have been sleeping like the precious little angels that they are (ha-ha-ha) but I haven't! When I'm not up late doing every last stitch of laundry in the house, I'm dream-shopping new furniture, filling my phone with screenshots of entryways and carpet runners, love seats and bunk bed, numbly scrolling through Facebook trying to  make sense of all the emotionally-charged status updates and wondering why I wasn't always Team Jesse (Gilmore Girl's reference) because I'm all kinds of Team Milo currently (This Is Us reference).
Weeks upon weeks of packing has resulted in piles of random junk sitting in the corners of just about every room in our house now and I can't really throw it all away (which is what I want to do) because a) my husband screens all of the trash bags that leave the house (I wish I was kidding) and b) it's not really trash, so instead, it's all just going to sit there until I make yet another trip to Home Depot to buy more boxes just to throw the random crap in. 
I'm totally labeling the boxes "Random Crap From _______ Room" and not feeling one iota bad about it. 
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I might be a hoarder. If I'm not a hoarder already, my future certainly isn't looking so hot. Like, do I really need the infant hats that my boys wore at the hospital? The rational sane side of me tells me, "no, you idiot. You don't need them! You have an entire laundry basket full of newborn and infant clothes you just can't part with, toss the hats!" But the emotional side of me screams, "Are you crazy? Their fresh little heads wore those caps! Save them FOREVER!" 
In reality, I have no box to put them in as the "special items" box has already been packed and loaded into the pod so they're just sitting in little ziplock baggies on the sole nightstand left standing in our room.
As for that box of dried rose petals, ticket stubs, handmade hemp necklaces and whatever else I decided to hold onto as I was blinded by new love when my husband and I first started dating? WHY. WHY DO I HAVE THAT. And more importantly, why can't I just throw the whole box away? Do I need it? NO. Have I opened that box once in the last 10-12 years? NO. Is it coming with me to the next house to sit on a closet shelf not to opened for another 10-12 years?
You bet. (Can you hear that? That's the sound of me shaking my head at myself).
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Let's talk about what kids really need. You want to know what they need? Food, clothing and a place to sleep at night. Okay, and a healthy dose of unconditional love and discipline but right now I'm talking about tangible things. 
Many weeks ago, when we first began the packing process, the toys were the first to go. I'm not a horrible troll so I left the boys with their beloved LEGOS, Hot Wheels Garage and buckets full of construction paper and art supplies and you want to know what they spend hours doing each day now? Coloring. Cutting paper. Using their imaginations. If anything, this whole entire process has taught me that we are up to our ears in excess and my boys will be getting nothing but "experiences" for Christmas because holy hell, we certainly don't need anything else. 
And I'll be damned if I'm taking a bunch of junk with me into the next house.
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Speaking of new houses, I know I've been a little quiet on the house-front but I'm hesitant to say anything about it/get really excited about it until the keys are in our hands. So we have a new house (!!!) and it's essentially the house of our dreams but the process has NOT been kind to us (long story). Fingers crossed by the end of this month, the keys will be in our hands and we'll be on our way to new adventures in a new space. We have about three weeks in between moving out of our current house and into the new one and if I can survive those three weeks, friends, I can do anything. 
I. Can. Do. Anything. (I'm reminding myself of this once an hour...) 
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Before I go, isn't this the greatest picture of the boys and my Dad? My parents were in town over the weekend and even though they had to sleep on air mattresses and our basement sectional, we had the best time with them. We made ice cream out of a ziplock bag, got a little frostbite in doing so and it was just so great to hear our house filled with their voices and laughter mixed with our own. 

As I get older and as the boys get older, saying goodbye to them each time they have to leave gets harder and harder and it usually results in all of us crying. I'm continuously reminded how short the days are and how far the distance feels but I'm so thankful for them, how they'll drop everything when one or all of us needs them. I can only hope I grow up to be half the kind of parents to my boys as they've been (and continue to be) for my brother and me. 

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