HELP

I am on the verge of giving up. How in the world am I suppose to pack up this place and move boxes to our new house while taking care of a teething and gassy 6 month old and a sick 3 year old. This is seriously nutts. You should have seen me yesterday. All I wanted to do was run away and hide in a hole.

I packed the car with boxes between feeding, changing, and soothing anna. Then I drove 30 minutes to our new house, went to wal-mart to buy light bulbs, smoke detectors, carbon dioxide detectors and a fire extinguisher. It took me a whole hour in Wal-mart because Lord knows why. Then I drove on to the new house and unpacked everything into the dinning room, including a screaming baby. Then I tried to unpack but Anna decided that she wanted to scream so for a whole hour I worked on soothing, feeding and changing her. before I new it I hadn't unpacked anything and it was time to go pick Paul up from his preschool.

So, I loaded the screaming baby up and picked up Paul and brought him back to the house with me. I attempted AGAIN to unpack the stuff and after 2 hours of unpacking a little, feeding a baby, unpacking a little more, fighting with Paul, unpacking a little more, changing Anna, unpacking a little more, changing Paul, I finally finished unpacking the small car load that I had brought.

I feel bad but I am just so mad at my kids at the moment. I know, "How can you be mad at a 6 month old and 3 year year old?" I'll tell ya. This is our first home and I want to do the whole first home "enjoy moving in" process. I want to be able to unpack my crap without constantly worrying about what those two little rascals are doing. And the screaming, oh my gosh, the screaming is really starting to get to me. Think about the torture of being locked in a room for 3 days with a screaming baby. It is just that, pure torture. I've given her orajel, gas meds, I offer her food, I change her diaper and she still screams. All I can do is give her some toys and walk out of the room. The screaming is psychologically draining. I want to cry.

I wish Roger and I could just go over to the house and unpack like normal people. But no, the majority of the time allotted to unpacking is spent wrangling kids.

Man alive. I am psychologically exhausted and want to run away to a beach with my Wendell Berry books until this whole moving thing is over. Or maybe I could just send the kids away until we have moved in so I can actually get some moving done