Packing Pain

I have moved many times in my life. I don't remember the moves we did with my parents very well and that could be because I was more of a hindrance than a help. After I got to academy, I moved several times a year. I moved out of the dorm and back home, then to camp, then home, then back to the dorm. I did this all through academy and college. Then I graduated and I moved to another dorm to be taskfoce, then to California, then back to the school and in with my new husband. I had "moving" down to one car full of stuff.

Once Andy and I were married, we lived in one apartment for 6 months. Then I decided the mice won (it was overrun with mice and ladybugs) and we moved to a new apartment not a quarter mile away. We moved in laundry baskets that time.

When we decided to leave Pennsylvania and come to North Carolina, Andy worked at camp that year and I moved all on my own. I packed up all our stuff (which, looking back, was hardly anything) and his parents came down and helped me drive to the new place and unload. It wasn't all that bad.

Now I have to kids and I'm insane with the moving thing. When I packed up just Andy and I from PA, it took me three weeks. We have two weeks until we are supposed to be rolling out of here and I can't get a thing done because I can only pack when the kids are sleeping. It's rough.

So here's my proposal, if you are local and you want to help me get some stuff into boxes, I will pay you in brownies, or lemon tarts, or doughnuts, or fritters, or whatever I have made that day that might be worth eating. Come on down people!