Packing Hell

I'm in Hell, or at least what I imagine Hell to be like. No, I've never imagined it as fire and brimstone. I've always pictured it as your worst living nightmare, like endless aerobics with Richard Simmons on speed, or something like that.

I get corporate moves; people do them all the time. My neighbor Patty has moved endless times with her kids and has given me lots of great advice. What no one has talked about? The "first ever international move" from a corporate perspective.

Read, no one knows what the heck is going on. We are the test case. Its not fun. Poor hubs is trying to sort it out, but now he has work stuff to try to wrap up, and he's getting stressed out trying to get answers, too.

So....who is packing the stuff that goes to storage? I dunno. What about getting it to storage - who does that? I dunno. Do you know? Do you want to help? Can someone give me a magic eight ball? Cause at least that way, I'd get some kind of answer. (Although, given the situation, it would likely be "Reply Hazy, Try Again".

I think by the time this is all said and done, we aren't going to want to come back, because this is all too big a hassle. Seriously.

Oh, did I mention that my kids don't KNOW about the move yet? So i'm the evil lying mama. The Moving compnay surveyor comes today. Boo asks "who is he Mom? What is he doing?" Um...Er...Ah..."he's a painter. He's giving me an estimate in case Mr. Mike can't do it".

I felt about 2 inches tall, lying to my boy.

The lack of knowledge ALSO means that I can't pack up anything that should be going to storage. SO right now, I have piles. Lots of piles. Mostly in the spare bedroom. Oh, but its all for Grandma's next rummage sale, wink wink, nudge nudge.

And don't get me started about the toys. Yes, I know we have TOO. MANY. TOYS. In my defense, we have a ginormous basement and a garage-sale-lovin' grandma who is happy to fill it! So now, I have to determine which of the toys absolutely must go, and what to do with the remainder. Without crushing my kids' spirits in the process. (If you know 5yos, EVERYTHING is their favorite toy. And Pea has about 20 favorite stuffed animals...they rotate sleeping with her.)

So, if I survive the next month, it won't matter, 'cause I'm going to Hell for lying to my kids.

Please send beer and chocolate - oh, and earplugs, so I can block out Richard Simmons....