21, or is it?

"21.

We are exactly three weeks away from our lift date and the pressure is on. We spent the better part of yesterday sorting through an obscene amount of playmobil, legos, blocks, k'nex, and bakugan. It was a day of "

The above is the draft of a post I started yesterday, and for some reason I can't possibly imagine, had to abandon it before it had even really begun... :0

When I came back to finish it today, something odd about this hit me, and I couldn't figure out what it was. Until, it REALLY hit me. I've been counting wrong! Chalk it up to packing/moving brain or whatever, but I've been thinking I have three weeks until the lift!

Actually we are LESS THAN TWO WEEKS AWAY!! How this happened, I have no idea. But it happened, and it continues to happen, and fast.

What's started to hit us now are the "lasts". Sunday was our last family birthday party with Bubby & Zaidy and Great Gma & Gpa. I was so physically spent from hours of packing that I couldn't even enjoy it.

Today was our last well check at the family doctor. I almost cried when I thanked the doctor for taking care of the kids for the past five years, and for changing some of my older kids' lives by prescribing medications I never would've gone for without his gentle nudging.

We are also on the last week of school, and I have no idea how I am still working and keeping it all together. Well, maybe not exactly "keeping it together", because several teachers approached me about how certain kids of mine have become uncooperative, not finishing work, acting out, etc. I guess it's to be expected with what's going on at home, but that realization doesn't make it any easier.

But, enough complaining, because there really is no TIME for complaining.

After all, it's 13.

Let the Countdown Begin!

I am kind of wondering what my real personality is. It's been forgotten or perhaps chucked into the "give away" bag. I don't remember who I am, or what I am supposed to be doing unless it is related to a move. Just sayin'...

SO....lots of people have been asking me when our flight is. For some reason I have been sketchy about the date, purposely leaving out details. "Soon!", or "It feels like we'll never be done in time!" or "Right around the corner!" are always my cheery, yet decidedly vague answers. I'm not sure why, but I have a hard time saying it out loud.

So, I figured to put it out here in the blogosphere and then that will be it...there is no turning back.

25 days

It's crazy, really. 3 weeks. We are flying out on July 4th. Way to declare our independence from the good 'ole US of A, right?

The packing is coming along. The schools have sent us official acceptance letters. The apartment has been anxiously awaiting us since June 1. The tickets have been paid for. The lift is in the works.

I remember this stage from the last time we did this. Around now is when we start to come out of our stupor and realize that the lift/flight is not the END, but rather a beginning. I'm sure the psyche does it this way, because this realization any earlier in the game would've sent me muttering incoherently into the nearest psych ward.

Thoughts now start to turn to:

"Well, nice that we are getting there at 7am, but how are we getting 9 (exhausted) people and 16 pieces of luggage to RBS?"

"Wait, we have no fridge/stove/beds once we get there...?"

"We could really crash by my in-laws, but who would do that to anyone when there will be 9 people bouncing off the walls at 3am?"

"Better bring Immodium for the first bout of "shilshul" from the initial reaction to the water."

But these thoughts I like. These thoughts have behind them the panoramic view from my new apartment of Harei Yehuda. These thoughts are bright and sunny with clear blue skies.

These thoughts mean I am already home.