Despite having very confidently typed out that title, I would not characterize the last several weeks as calm.
I spent this morning wading through someone else’s junk. We had told the sellers of our new house that we were happy to keep any items that were specific to the house. In my mind, this meant extra pieces of trim from the dining room or extra hardware for the kitchen. Sure, leave all the old paint cans. I’ll be bringing them to hazardous waste but those labels are useful if I ever need to match the trim color!
But no. Our sellers are boomers, and boomers think everything is useful. I found a box of old, busted up doorknobs and locks that I assumed were original to the house. Well, okay, kind of cool to know what they looked like, but when will we ever use these? And used bathroom vents… really? Why did you even keep these?!
They left large boxes of extra tiles from the last time they redid all the bathrooms. What are the chances that something terrible happens to the bathroom floor and we need to replace just a part of it and want to make sure we have matching tile? No, really, I am asking. What are the chances?!?
All this to say that moving day is in a week and shit is getting real. We closed on the new house in June, basically handed the keys directly to the contractor, and departed for Asia. The new house was a mess when we returned, covered in spackle and drywall dust and to be perfectly honest I’ve mostly been ignoring it and thinking of it as the contractor’s house. It’s less than a half mile from our current house and I have only been going up there once a week to make sure there isn’t water in the basement.
But the contractors are just about ready to hand it back off to us, which is why I’ve been over there wiping down surfaces and throwing things away the last two days.
Moving is weird. The last time I moved was twelve years ago and we had a lot less stuff. My oldest kid was not yet six months old, and my youngest didn’t exist. It was approximately six lifetimes ago, and I don’t even know how to approach moving now.
Also it sucks starting over in a new house. We love old houses, but old houses come with a lot of problems. We’ve been in our current house for long enough that we’ve repaired or replaced or painted or maintained pretty much every part of it. I know exactly how old all of the appliances are and which ones are on their last legs. I know where water accumulates in the backyard during a rainstorm, and I know which toilet is the best one for pooping.
I don’t know any of these things in the new house. Every day I spend there I discover new things: some bad, some good. Some days I walk out excited for our next chapter, and some days I close the door behind me and wonder if we’ve made a horrible mistake.
This is normal too, I know. We moved into this house in July. At some point in the next month there was a big thunderstorm and all of a sudden there was water coming into the house in six different places. I ran around with my baby in my arms and threw down towels and buckets. I was devastated that my new house was being destroyed by water, and knew we had made a huge financial mistake.
We were young and had a lot less money and no time, and it took us almost two full years to finally hire a contractor to tell us what was wrong with our house and fix it. It turns out we desperately needed a new roof, and that new roof–as I recall–resolved most but not all of the water intrusion issues. In later years we replaced the gutters and exterior trim and that resolved the water issues completely.
You know what’s most crazy? I can’t even remember exactly where all the water was coming in all those years ago. I used to run around putting out the towels and buckets before big storms. It was a big thing in my life! And I can’t even remember where all the towels needed to go!
And I am trying to remind myself that I will feel the same way after a decade in this new house. I won’t remember that the hot water heater stopped working a week before we moved in. I won’t recall what the box of old knobs looked like, or even that it existed in the first place. In twelve years, I will be able to tell you exactly which appliance is most likely to fail next, and how to best clean the windows, and where the Christmas tree should go.
I just have to get through the first couple months of chaos.