I.hate.moving

But yet in the past 4 years, we've moved..let's count:
- From our home in Ontario to my parents house for 2 months while we waited to move to (doesn't REALLY count, transition)
-Montenegro, apartment #1, 2 weeks (sort of tourists, transition)
-Apartment #2, a few months (transition)
-Me @ my parents for 2 months waiting for the baby (transition)
-Baby arrives and off to live at sis-in-law's for a month until I can go back to Montenegro and join hubby in (transition)
-Montenegro Apartment #3
-Montenegro Apartment #4
-Sweden House #1
- And now, Sweden House #2

so that's 9 abodes? A total of 6 for the 3.5 year old. To be fair, we're really talking about 4.

Boxes, staring at shit you know you should be throwing out but pack anyway, newspaper, cleaning, more cleaning, buying, more buying, calling every company imaginable to transfer services, changing addresses, unpacking, settling into a new area..oy...

And when we first made the move overseas, we sold a lot, gave a lot away, loaned some stuff out and stored a lot of stuff. I miss my stuff. Just wondering when we'll ever "get settled" again and get our stuff back.

I am grateful for these wonderful opportunities life has placed in front of us for sure. But it's hard to feel blessed with masking tape stuck to your butt, a zillion "must-do-that's" in your head, worrying about another transition for the little guy, trying to find quick Atkins-approved food, cracked hands and no time for a shower.