Although we've been moved into our new apartment for about a month. I thought I would share with you my column that I wrote in reference to the move. All I can say, is thank God, we don't have to move for another 13 months.
After four days, over 437 miles and some “heightened” dialogue, we are moved into our new apartment in Little Rock. Parish started moving during the week, while I was at work and accomplished what a whole moving crew would. When it comes to a project, he becomes laser-beamed focused and doesn’t stop until the task is completed.
Parish moved most of the boxes and plastic storage crates and our couch by himself. Yes, he heaved our large couch over his head and carried it down a flight of steps to his truck. Because I didn’t want him to get all the glory, when I got off of work, I put on my comfy clothes and helped him move.
One of the items that we moved was our 45” flat screen TV. I was very nervous about moving this item for a couple of reasons. Mainly because the TV is his baby. Seriously, when we got the Wii and started playing games, he asked me about 500 times if I had the wrist strap secure.
Whenever I get too close to it, he gasps and lunges towards me and says, “Watch out for the TV!” Okay, I get it, it’s one of his treasured toys, but it’s basically a glorified boob tube. Anyway, when it came time to move this electronic fortress of goodness, I froze. I started sweating and couldn’t stop envisioning the TV falling from my feeble grasp and busting into 137 billion pieces. My horrified facial expression caused Parish to pause and ask me if I was really ready to move his baby. I took a deep breath and calculated how far I could run if the TV splattered on the sidewalk. Long story short – it made it safely to the cab of the truck and I didn’t have to sprint back to Colorado.
Based on my experience and two years worth of marital knowledge, I think every married couple should move, at least once. You learn so much about your spouse during the experience. Moods, facial expressions and tones are unearthed like a slow-moving, emotional avalanche. It’s really quite something.
I really learned the importance of communication when it came to moving with Parish. He would ask if I wanted the chair here or there, if I wanted particular artwork on this wall or that and everything in between.
I also failed to mention that the temps were reaching into the 100s during this time, so besides being stressed, we were also melting. At the time of publication, our new pad is about 90 percent settled. Mona Lisa (my cat) is adjusting nicely, although the road trip from Conway was definitely more exciting. Did you know that cats can get car sick? They can and she did. So in addition to heaving 500-pound boxes up a flight of stairs, I had to clean up soggy Seafood Sensations out of the car carrier.
Mona then proceeded to sit in a bowl of water, causing another huge mess and made me question why I adopted the furry feline in the first place! At the end of the day, after the vomit and deluge was cleaned up, I had had enough. I sank into bed and realized being a mother to Mona is all I can handle right now and there is nothing better than lying next to your best friend.
