A month after the move...
Their laundry, combined with sheets and some clothes of ours, is spinning in my dryer. Fidget is in the process of getting ready to go over to their condo with me; we'll drag bags of meat and vegetables, do our little 4th celebration on a George Foreman. Neither house is really in the progress of accepting company.
I've worked on my office, spending Sunday night to finally drag over furniture and rearrange the larger pieces. Now, it's down to putting away the smaller items and figuring out how I want my desk to look. I have hardly used it since I've completed graduate school, but part of me thinks it was due to the office being in an overwhelming state of disarray. With new exercise equipment and all of the new out-of-season stuff finally put in the attic, there's room now to move around and make it into a mini-sanctuary. Maybe Fidget won't ever use the office while he's in school, but I can certainly use it as my own mental health sanctuary.
I'm still working on getting my parents established up here; we've gone over in various sets of friends to help unpack and unearth over 25 years of living in Florida. Momma continues to be sad at times, overwhelmed by the state of her condo and not quite figuring out if this is where she is staying. I smile as I unpack my mother's trinkets, old bottles and carnival glass from when her grandmother was alive. It's like unpacking my childhood/adulthood home.
It would appear as though the four of us have settled into some type of routine. I spend two to three mornings at my parents' condo during the week, as we try to establish with new providers and organize medical care. We sporadically go over to unpack boxes, trying to put some semblance of order to my parents' last home. It's trying at times; I've had to bow out twice due to overextending myself during the weekend. There was Kayrin's dad's memorial, which was followed by driving all over Pennsylvania, then the following day a memorial for Pop. There was a lot of grief surrounding my birthday, but I realized I needed the outlet to grieve, too.
Today, my hopes are higher. Between organizing the office and sleeping in clean sheets, it seems as though the small victories are what keep me moving forward. I went to spin class this morning, the first one in over two months. Between flying to/from Florida or driving, along with occasionally talking myself out of it, I hadn't been in quite some time. I saw that my favorite instructor would be teaching the class, a random Tuesday morning class since folks were off for the holiday. I donned my clothes and ran to his cadence, pleasantly pleased with myself that my endurance was continuing to improve. I have lost weight during the past month, though it is probably more stress-related than health-wise, but I can continue to maintain the healthy changes.
There are always things to be done, things to be organized, pieces to be put together. Today, after our little in-home grill-out, we'll start again by busting down boxes and hauling away trash. I am hopeful that once the boxes are gone and the art is finally on the walls, my parents' moods will lift, and they'll accept their home. I won't need to do so much laboring over there, occasionally going to the doctor's, but not coming armed with my box cutter.
I've stopped writing in my planner since around May. This, too, could have been a result of the impending stress with the Florida move. I know a new planner will need to come soon. Additionally, I want to sit down and go through my planner, see if things have improved in the past six months and what else I could potentially change to keep moving forward. I am trying to invest in more self-care in general; since rearranging our bedroom, I retreat there at night when I first come home to decompress and read. It seems to quiet my mind, as well as briefly recharge me to take care of household things, like making muffins for breakfast during the week. I find more solace in my household tasks than actually dreading them; I think that itself is a sign of progress.
I'm in it for the long haul, though there are times where I wished there were more instantaneous rewards. However, looking back six months ago, my parents did not even have a concrete plan of moving to Maryland and I still had three jobs, not to mention an additional 15 pounds. So, small victories are definitely worth celebrating...
... it helps to remind of the bigger victories that lie ahead.
I've worked on my office, spending Sunday night to finally drag over furniture and rearrange the larger pieces. Now, it's down to putting away the smaller items and figuring out how I want my desk to look. I have hardly used it since I've completed graduate school, but part of me thinks it was due to the office being in an overwhelming state of disarray. With new exercise equipment and all of the new out-of-season stuff finally put in the attic, there's room now to move around and make it into a mini-sanctuary. Maybe Fidget won't ever use the office while he's in school, but I can certainly use it as my own mental health sanctuary.
I'm still working on getting my parents established up here; we've gone over in various sets of friends to help unpack and unearth over 25 years of living in Florida. Momma continues to be sad at times, overwhelmed by the state of her condo and not quite figuring out if this is where she is staying. I smile as I unpack my mother's trinkets, old bottles and carnival glass from when her grandmother was alive. It's like unpacking my childhood/adulthood home.
It would appear as though the four of us have settled into some type of routine. I spend two to three mornings at my parents' condo during the week, as we try to establish with new providers and organize medical care. We sporadically go over to unpack boxes, trying to put some semblance of order to my parents' last home. It's trying at times; I've had to bow out twice due to overextending myself during the weekend. There was Kayrin's dad's memorial, which was followed by driving all over Pennsylvania, then the following day a memorial for Pop. There was a lot of grief surrounding my birthday, but I realized I needed the outlet to grieve, too.
Today, my hopes are higher. Between organizing the office and sleeping in clean sheets, it seems as though the small victories are what keep me moving forward. I went to spin class this morning, the first one in over two months. Between flying to/from Florida or driving, along with occasionally talking myself out of it, I hadn't been in quite some time. I saw that my favorite instructor would be teaching the class, a random Tuesday morning class since folks were off for the holiday. I donned my clothes and ran to his cadence, pleasantly pleased with myself that my endurance was continuing to improve. I have lost weight during the past month, though it is probably more stress-related than health-wise, but I can continue to maintain the healthy changes.
There are always things to be done, things to be organized, pieces to be put together. Today, after our little in-home grill-out, we'll start again by busting down boxes and hauling away trash. I am hopeful that once the boxes are gone and the art is finally on the walls, my parents' moods will lift, and they'll accept their home. I won't need to do so much laboring over there, occasionally going to the doctor's, but not coming armed with my box cutter.
I've stopped writing in my planner since around May. This, too, could have been a result of the impending stress with the Florida move. I know a new planner will need to come soon. Additionally, I want to sit down and go through my planner, see if things have improved in the past six months and what else I could potentially change to keep moving forward. I am trying to invest in more self-care in general; since rearranging our bedroom, I retreat there at night when I first come home to decompress and read. It seems to quiet my mind, as well as briefly recharge me to take care of household things, like making muffins for breakfast during the week. I find more solace in my household tasks than actually dreading them; I think that itself is a sign of progress.
I'm in it for the long haul, though there are times where I wished there were more instantaneous rewards. However, looking back six months ago, my parents did not even have a concrete plan of moving to Maryland and I still had three jobs, not to mention an additional 15 pounds. So, small victories are definitely worth celebrating...
... it helps to remind of the bigger victories that lie ahead.