We. Are. In!
And boy was it a Herculean effort to get here. It involved a bat bite and ill-timed rabies vaccinations, an ER trip after a household accident plus an urgent care trip for my hypochondriac 8 year old, two different move days, and *of course* three major briefs due. But we’re in the house, totally out of the other house, all three boys (mostly) whole and healthy, and 90% of the boxes unpacked. The ones that remain are either books (we need to buy a bookshelf, since we lost our four built-in bookshelves in the Alabama house and those suckers were full), or those really annoying miscellaneous type boxes with the most random crap in them. I’m tempted to just tip them all in the trash, but I know our checkbooks are in one!
On Sunday a week ago (Lawd, just a week?), I took a very long walk, packed all the rest of the boxes I was going to pack, and then lounged pool-side for a while. Except the actual outdoor pool at our gym was drained and closed for repairs. I swam several laps in the indoor pool (Oh, Olympic swimmers, you are so much faster than me!), and then sat by the drained outdoor pool and listened to music and deep-breathed, getting ready for the kids to return and the week ahead. PS I bought this swimsuit in 2013 . . . Popina swimwear makes good solid suits! Although it’s time for me to get a new one . . .
The kids got home that evening and were troopers about sleeping in the apartment full of boxes, although it threw Craig for a loop. The next morning, we got them up and shuffled off to their various caregiving situations, and then we started loading up a rented Penske truck. Final walk-through was set for 10:30, closing for 11:00, and we did manage to get a truck and both cars filled up by then.
Closing was largely uneventful, although it lasted two hours. I did get a call in the middle from our eldest’s day camp – he was whining and crying about sore ears. OF COURSE HE WAS. They wanted me to come get him, and I said – you have to wait til I’ve finished this up. He isn’t contagious and he isn’t going to die, and he’s just gotta suck it up for a couple of hours.
We got through closing and headed to the house, where the unloading began. And continued, and continued, and continued. . .
I had to leave at 1:30 or so, and did not get back til dinner time. In a spectacularly ill-timed move, Craig managed to get himself possibly bitten by a bat while visiting his grandparents last week, and we’ve had to do the rabies vaccination series as a precaution. (It was the middle of the night, he was sleeping, then he was screaming, the Prof ran up to check on him and a tiny, cute little bastard of a bat was flapping around his room. And since bat teeth are tiny enough that you can’t always see a bite, and something like 5% of bats have rabies, and rabies is 100% fatal – we are treating Craig for rabies, even though there’s likely less than a 1% chance that he was exposed to it.) Anyway, the rabies vaccine used to be this terrible thing involving shots in the stomach, I understand, as every single person I’ve told this story to has asked in a hushed tone if he had to suffer that. It is no longer so unpleasant – now it’s a shot of rabies and immunoglobin within 24 hours of exposure, and then another shot on day 3, day 7, day 14, and day 21 (? I think it’s 21 – our pediatrician knows). Just like a normal vaccination, right in the thigh, bandaid and sticker and off you go. Day 3 was closing/moving day. The clinic where he gets these shots is open from 9-3 – right square in the middle of the day. Siiiiiigh.
Plus I got another call from school – Jack was inconsolable, and needed to go to urgent care for his ears. I had to go get both big boys (whose camp ended at 3pm anyway, although we could have left Craig at daycare til 6pm if not for the rabies thing), then go get Craig from daycare, then take them all to the hospital clinic with the rabies vaccine. I called ahead and that clinic does not check for ear infections, though I could take him to the Emergency Room at eleventy million bucks per visit. I pinched the bridge of my nose, whistled air through my teeth, and called our pediatrician to make a separate appointment across town for Jack that afternoon – Jack, who was more or less constantly whining about his ears at this point. Meanwhile, I really wanted to be home directing the move, having boxes put in the right place and getting the boys’ beds together, etc.
We spent 1.5 hours at the hospital. The boys lost their minds with boredom, and I nearly lost mine with frustration at why this all had to happen TODAY OF ALL DAYS, and then I called the Prof and said “You must take one of these children as a helper.” I brought Liam to the old apartment, where he “helped” clean up, then swung by Walgreen’s to get Jack some ibuprofen and treats for him and Craig, then we headed to the pediatrician for the ear appointment, which took another hour. (He had – in the words of the ped – the “tiniest touch of swimmer’s ear” – just barely there. Though, being Jack, if you’d asked him, he was certainly dying.) We swung back by Walgreen’s to drop of the prescription, then came home to the new house. At. Last.
