Parting is such sweet sorrow...


-Shakespeare



Well tomorrow is the day. The day we never thought would get here.


WE ARE MOVING!


And yet as I sit here typing this I must admit I have ulterior motives. Sure I want to update you all. Sure I want to relay our excitement. But mostly I want to put off packing my daughter's bedroom.


You see, the prospect of going in there and boxing up all of her toys and her books and her clothes and her adorably displayed baby shoes is making my heart unaccountably ache.


"We're taking it all with us..." my husband has only just said, with a quizzical look on his face. And we are. More importantly we are taking her with us, of course. (Though for the next few days she is staying at grandma's house, playing and blissfully unaware of the destruction taking place in her house.) But the reality is I can't take her babyhood with us.


We are leaving behind the room I brought her home to after we left the hospital. We are leaving behind all the still-vivid memories of nights spent pacing the length of our carpeted hall, imploring heaven that she stop crying and I stop crying and we both get some sleep. We are leaving behind the living room she learned to crawl in and the dining room she took her first steps in and indeed all the other myriad places that conjure up a part of her life I will never get back.


So.

Here I sit. Crying on my keyboard and prolonging the inevitable. Who would have thought, huh?