Matt is in Michigan. He won't be home until August 22. He'll be coming home right after he closes on our house over there. And the following week we will be moving into said house. Given that this is only 2 weeks away, you'd think we would be pretty much packed, right? Uh, no. We got very little packing done before he left. Partially because of our nature of procrastination. Partially because we have a billion other projects in the works. And partially because it's nearly impossible to get anything done with a newborn around.
Enter reason #1 I get no packing done:
She's a baby. She's needy. That's her job. I'm fine with that. I didn't choose to have another child to make my life easier. I love snuggling with her. I love watching her learn about her new world. At the moment I became her mother, I loved her with such an amazing intensity, I'd do pretty much anything for her. So the fact that she demands to be fed at least every 5 hours and at most constantly...well, that accounts for the grand sum of 7 boxes I've packed in the last week.
I'm not suggesting that I spend all day every day feeding her. Or even that I've been home the entire week. In fact, I took Tevin and Cadence up to my parents' house from Sunday through Wednesday this week. My mom wanted to have some time with the "little kids" so we kept my niece Emily and nephew Ryan, too. We did fun things like 
pushing Cadence around in the doll stroller and playing "puppy dog" with the nerf football. I gotta say, when my son commits to being a puppy, he really goes all out. 
Unfortunately, Tevin doesn't listen nearly as well as a puppy. He's hitting this horrible phase. I'll consider myself lucky that he's been an awesome kid who listens really well for the first 4 years of his life. Lately, though, he is suddenly being a preschooler. He's completely ignoring me, saying no, and getting sassy as can be. And driving me CRAZY.
Then there's Samantha. She got back today from Girl Scout camp. She said she missed us and was homesick the whole time. I'm trying to figure out why, then, she did little else but whine at me and fight with her brother all evening. She's at a tough age. She's old enough to know better, but still too young to care, as the saying goes. She's rebelling a bit because she doesn't want to move to Michigan. I can understand that. She's moving away from her friends and everything she knows. 
She's also dealing with a bit of resentment over being the big sister. She doesn't know why she has to act her age and her siblings don't have to act her age.
The constant bickering, the repeating myself 100 times, the answering the cry of my baby by whipping out my boob...it's tiring. By the time I actually get the kids to bed I'm so tired there's no way I'm going to pack. As soon as I got them to sleep (the biggest miracle of the night is that Cadence is sleeping in my bed while I'm downstairs listening for her on the monitor) I made a yummy salad of spinach, feta cheese, almond slivers, strawberries, and raspberry vinaigrette. I got out a wine glass and poured myself a glass of Red Rose. And I popped in a movie.
In my defense, I did manage to get 2 big garbage bags full of trash from our room and I packed 2 boxes of my books while the kids were watching Alvin and the Chipmunks in there and Sam was holding Cadence. I have the sinking feeling that we'll be tossing things in boxes the week that we move. But can packing ever be as rewarding as a day at the childrens' museum followed by an evening of nursing and regaining my sanity?
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