They say that moving is one of life’s most stressful events. I have to argue this theory and say that it’s one of the most reflective. I would even go so far as to call it an occasion. Not the kind of occasion where you get to celebrate something that you only mildly care about (like your neighbour’s cousin’s son’s ex-wife’s wedding), but the kind of occasion that marks a deliberate time for packing all of your memories into boxes.
Bonus Content:
The following math formula is used by experts to calculate the size of your moving truck:
Your age (for an average of the memories you’ve collected) PLUS your level of sentimentality (for measuring your potential to hoard crap) EQUALS the size of the truck you need for your move.
Because I’ve had children for most of my adult life and this recent move was the first without toting children, it was especially reflective for me. After my furniture had been hauled away, I had the pensive pleasure of walking through the empty rooms of my soon-to-be former house to confront all of my neglected intentions.
The flowers that I had planned to plant in front of the kitchen window so that I had something pretty to look at while washing dishes …
The excessive air hockey game that I bought with visions of game nights with my teenagers …
The second living room that never got finished …
This was the house where my teenagers outgrew me, forever inaugurated as such in the mawkish corners of my mind.
Yet certain intentions, no matter how trivial or forgotten, will always follow you. Like the bag of fancy underwear I found while unpacking in the new (old) house over the weekend.
Before I continue, a bit of backstory …
Greg and I have been together for nearly 12 years. And on top of that we’ve known each other since we were teenagers – so clearly something put us on the right path to find each other (more than once), making us, as they say, “meant to be”.
Despite this, if you know me in real life you know that there have been times when I’ve mistrusted the destiny factor and would break up with him. And every time I did that I would go out and buy myself something new, usually a hat or a pair of boots.
On one of these self-indulgent shopping-sprees I must have decided that what I really needed was to buy some fancy new underwear at a store that delicately packs your purchase in expensive-looking bags with pretty, pink ribbons as handles. Not because I planned for anyone to ever see said fancy underwear but because I thought that wearing uncomfortable under garments would give me something to focus on; something OTHER than missing Greg. Anyone that has an appreciation for cotton will agree: who can possibly think of anything else when you’re going through the day wearing frilly, undergarments that always seem to look like they belong on Barbie?
But I guess Greg and I got back together soon after I bought said fancy butt floss because they still had the price tags on them.
Love is never having to wear fancy, uncomfortable underwear. It’s a Universal Law. Possibly even more universal than gravity.
I hate moving SO MUCH. And we’re going to do it again next year. Hopefully for the last time. Hopefully.
Fingers crossed for you, Michelle!
Yes, yes yes yes yes — Fruit of the Loom and Hanes are in no danger of ever going out of business thanks to me! 🙂
Cotton lives strong, Paula! (Thanks to us 🙂
Ok. I have that bag of fancy underwear, too, and it follows me around. In fact, It just popped up a few weeks ago! I’ve been blogging about my own move, too. A long ago move. That was way too hilarious. Like the bag of underwear.
Thanks, Carol! I guess we BOTH need to toss that bag 🙂
Oh how I am over that frilly, itchy underwear. The best part of midlife is cotton underwear and flats.
Good luck in your new home!
Thanks, Doreen! And yes, flats and cotton #LiveStrong 🙂
I need to have that stitched on a pillow – Love is never having to wear uncomfortable underwear. So very true.
HA HA! Thanks, Jessica.
I love your formula for the moving truck. It’s so hard to pare down. I’ve taken to taking photos of things I hang on to for no other reason than sentiment and then toss it.
Oh that’s a really great idea, Kay! (Note to self: TAKE PICTURES AND TOSS.)
I always seem to move in such a hurry that I have no time for nostalgia. I keep thinking one of these days I’ll have time to go through the boxes that sit in my garage from several moves (most of which are mementos from when my kids were young), but I never seem to find the time to go through them. Now I’m curious about what is inside them. Hmm…
I have boxes like that too, Theresa 🙂
100% cotton for me. I totally agree.
My man keeps on telling me he finds me devastatingly attractive, and I have decided to believe him.
As you should, Susan! And kudos to you 🙂
Good luck with your move! Not my favorite thing either and I am letting go of that bag of frilly almost undies behind me!
Thanks, Michele! (Me too!)
Last week on Project Runway they had a lingerie challenge and one of the designers made beautiful lace highwaisted undies. I thought they were awesome, and the judges kept saying “who wears that anymore?” Ummmm, me. Except mine are cotton, and I’d love the lovely high wasted lace ones!
As they say, “there’s a panty for every woman’s taste”. (I think they say that.)
I think about that “meant to be” myth or truth a lot. Is it all part of a big, predestined plan? Would I still have ended up with the same guy had I not gone to that exact ice cream shop at that exact time 20 years ago? If I went to a different ice cream shop on a different night, would I have maybe met somebody different and had different kids? Just a fascinating topic to me. I love this post and being with you as you wandered through your packed up home, ready to being a new chapter.
Thanks for your kinds words, Julie. I wonder that same fact a lot too. What if …
Comfort makes the flow of one’s day a lot easier. Comfort also calms the body.
Besides, there’s a lot more intrigue when those unmentionables come off.
Lol – True that, Beth!
Comfie undies for everyone! We women of substance have so much more to think about.
Yes we do, Lisha! Your comment reminds me of a book I read years ago: “A Woman of Substance” 🙂
Comfort first, always and every time for me! 😉
Yup. Me too, Corinne. Thanks for stopping by!
Oh man! Get those out and wear them. Why not bring joy to his face, if even for the 2 minutes it takes for him to get them off. #LowLightingIsRecommended LOL!
Ha ha! Love your advice! Especially the low lighting part 🙂
Excellent job of being poignant and funny. Moves and thongs are traumatic!
Thanks, Elaine. And yes they are!
We are kindred spirits! I call it butt floss too! Yuck…and not just cuz they’re uncomfortable…
Cotton grannies all the way baby!
I buy the pretty matching underwear hoping to add some sexiness to my otherwise just comfortable style, i wear it once and look decidedly unsexy as i spend the day adjusting wedgies and itchy lace, a quick wash and to the back of the drawer they go – probably never to be seen again until my lucky children are packing up my stuff to send me off to the old folks home. I never thought of these abandoned items as proof of how strong my relationship was with my partner – I wonder if he would agree 🙂
Oh, moving is so difficult. We vowed to die in our current home. lol I have some frilly undies too and never wear them. I think owning them seems to be good enough. Best of luck with the move. I know how stressful they are.
I have a whole drawer full of sexy, uncomfortable underwear. Did I mention that these garments are at the very back of the drawer in No Man’s Land? Yeah, those panties haven’t seen the light if day since the last child was born (and he is a teen).