Yay moving. Really. Yay. It means that we’re going to a new place with new optimism and hope. Hope that it won’t get cluttered and the “mystery smell” that is usually present in closed up homes with kids in diapers will be left behind.
I’m just tired of this cracker box apartment. We moved here over a year and a half ago, thinking it was “temporary”, that Donovan would never see it. Riiiiiiiiiiiight. There’s paint, pictures, and shelves full of tchatzkahs and books on the walls. Not to mention the “artwork” that Marion has put on most walls below the 3 foot level.
The carpet is unmentionable. I’m hoping that it can be repaired. I’m planning on getting everything out of the house then going through with some spackle. I’ll end up hiring the people that do the carpets for the complex, most likely. I doubt I’m going to paint. We’ve been here over a year, and some of the walls were painted by the complex… Aw hell, I’m going to end up painting the white walls that have the crayon on them. Or I’ll end up buying a case of magic erasers. That might be better, I don’t know.
Once we’re moved there’s other stuff to consider. If we don’t move out of zone for Beckie’s current school, I’m planning on home schooling her. There’s sewing to do, kids and a dog to house-break, pictures and shelves to put up.
I honestly believe that kids aren’t meant to live in a little apartment like this. We’ve no grass, nowhere for them to play, and the little kids are at that “jumping” stage. All the world is their trampoline, including my antique chairs.
I just wish that the damn realtor would get back to me already. I need to start looking at houses now that the taxes are going to be coming.