So We Moved
All about:
anxiety,
apartment,
exhaustion,
moving
I am not even about to harass myself with a retelling of this most prodigious and supremely stressful event. Suffice it to say, the apartment next door was up for grabs, and grab it we did. Door number Four was getting too crowded, what with the in-laws and all. So we moved. To door number Five.
So we moved. Why does that sound so blessedly simple? Foremost in my memory is leaving my three-week-old son in the old living room while Yaya and I negotiated the bulky dresser downstairs, across the courtyard, then upstairs again to the new bedroom.
Atch covered in sawdust and sweat as he drilled holes and stapled electrical cables.
Woog running wildly back and forth from one apartment to the next, unsupervised.
My milkjugs knocking painfully against my chest as I waxed the new floor.
Nursing Eli while helplessly listening to Atch's poor back creaking from the strain of carrying three sets of cabinets, one disassembled queen-sized bed, an aircon unit, a tv, and various other odds and ends.
Combing the city to find the least expensive possible dining table...and wincing anyway while shelling out the money for one.
Going back and forth for the gazillionth time carrying clothes and shoes and pillows and sheets...how can three people accumulate so much stuff in five years?
Trying to appease Woog who shied in terror from his new bedroom, and his first ever prospect of sleeping alone.
Vacuuming. Wiping and disenfecting. Again and again. And yet again.
In the end, when we finally settled down to enjoy our first breakfast in the new apartment, it started to feel like home. We were practically sleepwalking in exhaustion, but we were home.
August 2006
So we moved. Why does that sound so blessedly simple? Foremost in my memory is leaving my three-week-old son in the old living room while Yaya and I negotiated the bulky dresser downstairs, across the courtyard, then upstairs again to the new bedroom.
Atch covered in sawdust and sweat as he drilled holes and stapled electrical cables.
Woog running wildly back and forth from one apartment to the next, unsupervised.
My milkjugs knocking painfully against my chest as I waxed the new floor.
Nursing Eli while helplessly listening to Atch's poor back creaking from the strain of carrying three sets of cabinets, one disassembled queen-sized bed, an aircon unit, a tv, and various other odds and ends.
Combing the city to find the least expensive possible dining table...and wincing anyway while shelling out the money for one.
Going back and forth for the gazillionth time carrying clothes and shoes and pillows and sheets...how can three people accumulate so much stuff in five years?
Trying to appease Woog who shied in terror from his new bedroom, and his first ever prospect of sleeping alone.
Vacuuming. Wiping and disenfecting. Again and again. And yet again.
In the end, when we finally settled down to enjoy our first breakfast in the new apartment, it started to feel like home. We were practically sleepwalking in exhaustion, but we were home.
August 2006
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