Can I just say that I am not a fan of moving. OK I really hate moving. We are almost done and I have not yet hit panic mode. We close on the house on Monday so we have a few more days to get the last of the furniture going to storage out of the house, the last few boxes of things we don't know what to do with, a few things off the wall, and of course clean. Humph. I am tired.
My children have been such troopers through this whole ordeal. One day while Bret and I were packing like crazy I kept seeing Palmer walking around with an armful of stuff. We have been talking about the move, the building of the new house, etc for a few weeks now and were hoping that the kids were well prepared for the changes coming forth. As I taped up another box in the boys room Palmer came over with his armful with huge hopeful eyes. "Mom, can I take these things with us?"
I am not sure if he thought that I was getting rid of things or if he thought that the boxes were all headed to storage but my little worrier was worried and clearly stressed. I looked at the things he had been carrying and it really made my heart melt. He had his blanket, his DS, a monster truck, and a K-state football. I melted because as I looked around at all of the "things" that we have these were his most prized possessions. Everything else could go if he could keep these things.
Sometimes as parents you can only hope that the decisions you make are what is best for the family. I think Emily summed it up best when she said "home is where we all are".