My youngest, Abby, unknowingly landed a blow to my heart the other day when she called me at work to announce she wanted to move her bedroom from upstairs to downstairs in the lower level a/k/a the basement of our home. Foreseeing the blood, sweat and tears involved in schlepping all the contents of each room around, I quickly pointed out that she had her room "down there" before and she was a'skeered of the boogie man. She crippled me with her reply; " I was in 5th grade mom, I'm a highschooler now."Highschooler! That made my heart hurt and I think I died a little on the inside at that comment. I actually prefer my children to remain elementary school age and readily believe the many tales I tell them. They're also not as mouthy when they are younger. Either way, I told her I had no problem with it but she must first clear it with her dad, and please don't bother him at work, talk to him when he gets home. She of course called him immediately upon hanging up, if not sooner.
He was fine with it and proceeded to make plans to go fishing on the scheduled day and time of the "Big Move". Mighty white of him is the term that popped into my head when he casually asked me on Friday morning if we had any plans for the weekend, because he wanted to see if Chris wanted to take the boat and wet a few lines. He thinks he had me fooled, but I know it was his way of staying away from the impending chaos.
The Big Move was to take place right here and right now. This weekend. As you can see I am typing away and not elbow deep in piles of clothes that are mine and have been missing in action ever since they crossed the threshold of Abby's doorway. I am in fact enjoying a good cup of coffee that my sweetie so thoughtfully made on his way out the door this morning as he headed to the fishing hole.
My daughter and the two friends she enlisted to help with the fun sat up most of the night, doing God knows what, and are still sawing logs in the living room. They shoved the coffee table in front of the door leading to the front porch and placed the mattress to her bed in the middle of the floor. They look like hobo's on a three day drunk sprawled across the room.
The Oreos I brought home seem to have been their snack of choice and the empty package is fluffing about in the draft of the ceiling fan like a baby bird gathering courage to take it's first leap into the air. I really hate to wake them, I love this time of day when all is quiet and I can sit and marinate in my thoughts, but we really need to get this show on the road.
I told Alex that Abby wants to paint the walls of her new room purple and put lime green hand prints on them. She replied; "She will regret it when she decides to paint over it. Remember when I did that?" I told her that yes I did remember and did she remember that I said the same thing to her and SHE did it anyway. Alex laughed and replied that some things you have to learn by doing. That made us both laugh and we commiserated on how we hated that Bitty Sissy was growing up.
Well, I must get up from here and make a battle plan. I actually look forward to having my sewing stuff back upstairs in the room next to me. I never got to work on any projects because downstairs was just too far to go without someone missing me, having it all up here will be a bonus. Moving it up here is gonna be a pain!
Alex just called to see if I needed her help with the move. I told her sure, come on over at high noon, I see no reason why we can't all have our eyeballs bleeding by the end of the day. This mix of headstrong women will either be fun or pure hell, let's hope for the best.
Well, I better go wake up my little Cheese in her hair kiddo so we can haul all her crap downstairs. After all, she not skeered any more, she's a Big Cheese now!
