December 9 was moving day for us. It was supposed to be Friday, the 6th, but let's just remember that Friday was the day that the huge ice storm hit our area making moving pretty much impossible. I have lived in Dallas my whole life and I've never seen ice like this. Huge trees snapped in half because of the weight of the ice on their leaves and branches. The roads were covered in inches of very solid ice. Parking lots...death traps. Nasty stuff.
What I'd love to be doing during an icy weekend is sitting in front of the fire, cuddling the boys, watching movies, making hot chocolate, and reading books. That's what makes ice storms even remotely bearable. Moving and stressing about getting all your stuff into storage during an ice storm is not on my list of things I'd like to be doing.
Sunday afternoon, Casey and I scraped the very thick ice from the walkway leading up to our house and Monday morning, the moving truck arrived. This is the first time we have hired movers. Suffice it to say, I'm never moving without movers again. (Actually, I'm not moving again...ever, so never mind.)
And yes, the faded "Christmas Trees" words on the side did give me pause. After all, these guys are loading our entire house into a truck and then putting it in storage for us...you want them to be legit. Turns out, they did fine.
When I was packing, I used the dining room as a staging area. This was about 1/2 way into the move. Lots of boxes...and random stuff. It's the random stuff that doesn't fit in anything that annoys me. Ironing board. Pool noodles. Bean bags.
And here's the living room with the furniture all wrapped up. The couch wasn't wrapped because we were selling it to a friend who picked it up later that day. The house is starting to look really weird, but you don't really have time to stop and notice because of all the activity going on. I didn't even take many photos that day....literally less than 10 total.
Toward the end of the day, when the crew was unloading the second (and last) load into the storage unit, my mom brought the boys over to the house to day goodbye. They were so excited to see how different it looked.
They went up to their empty rooms and said goodbye, then we took one last family photo in our house. Which we now refer to as "the old house." Goodbye house. I pretty much raised my babies here. We moved in when Ethan was exactly 1 year old. Logan came home from the hospital to this house. And we had wonderful, sweet, exhausting, and very memorable years with our little boys here. I will always love it.
Time to start a new chapter. Beginning with waiting for our new house to be finished.