The Exhaustion Junction

There are freezing points and melting points and somewhere in between there must be an exhaustion junction - a place where stress meets an immune system on overload and just becomes enmeshed with each other. If there is, I think I have arrived there and I do not like it.

For the past 2 weeks, I have run around my house throwing stuff out, donating useful items, organizing our stuff into three parts - stuff for the plane, air freight and household effects (HHE). While I don't necessarily enjoy moving, there is one very positive thing that happens with every move. You get to get rid of stuff!

When i was in college and graduate school, I moved so much that I realized one thing: stuff is just stuff. It isn't that important. Certainly I have my own things that I value (mostly stuff my dad gave me), but I have little attachment to all this stuff in general. In other words, if the house was burning, I would leave those heirlooms behind. I would probably take my photo albums and hard drive that holds my pictures. That's probably what I would cry about if I lost it and thanks to Snapfish all my pics for the last 8 years can be recouped.

While I love this part of moving, my dear husband, while not quite the packrat, hates giving away stuff or losing stuff to a break. When things break as they often do in moves, I don't tend to get upset with it. I glue it back is it is possible or I move on. Not so with my husband who depending on what broke goes through the grief process. He still won't let me live down the green bachelor couch I encouraged him to give away to a cousin who (being a bachelor himself) trashed it within a year (or so I hear). So, isn't great that I am handling this pack out by myself?

The whole moving process is stressful, but luckily, the giving away stuff is quite easy. My kids can now visit Slightly Cracked and feel quite at home with the toys they so generously (I snuck them into the garage while they were at school and, if no one asked, it went) donated.

Having my children out of the house has been a blessing during this time. Thing 2's wonderful Happy Montessori school allowed me to let her go full time without charging me the other half of the tuition. She is happy and I got a lot done. Thing 1's friends (or should I say their parents) let Thing 1 come over on play dates after school to help maximize my time. All of you have been great and I really appreciate the help.

And so, yesterday, the movers showed up. And I was pleasantly surprised that they spoke more English than the Hispanic guys who packed us up in Miami. Miami Latinos - get with the program! It would not have mattered since with my wonderful Polish teachers who taught me for 2 years, I know the names of everything they were writing on the boxes.

Things went well and they were able to the whole house in 8 hours. Quite an accomplishment! Today they did the furniture and now they are loading. I am hoping to have them all out of my house by tomorrow morning at the latest. And through it all I discovered that my stress response is quite interesting. I rock under stress! It is when you leave me idle that I crash and burn.

I was so exhausted last night (from doing nothing but supervising) that when Thing 2 asked me to lie with her in bed, I didn't just lie there and then leave when she fell asleep. I passed out. I was so exhausted that when the Cat called an hour later and the phone was ringing, I started hitting the snooze button determined to break my alarm clock that would not stop "ringing." I was so exhausted that when I went to get clothing for the next day (mover pack everything that isn't bolted down or clearly marked as "nie pakowac", so I packed all my clothes before their arrival), I could barely walk back up the stairs and ended up falling and huring my knee and elbow. It wasn't pretty, but at least I didn't break anything.

Then, to top it all off, my body had no idea what to do with itself after two weeks of situationally induced stress, so it decided to attack me to bring back the stress. I woke at 4am feeling nauseated and proceeded to vomit intermittently for three hours (more weight loss for me - goody) while trying to shower, get ready, get kids ready for school and make breakfast, multi tasker that I am. What is it about a toilet that induces a gag reflex other than it's overall germs? I swear that every time I even came close to one, I would have the need to vomit. Don't feel bad though - throwing up was a great relief to me. I was actually feeling better when it was all over. Note to self: Haagen Daz from Warsaw should not be considered "dinner."

Later, I found out I had a fever. Tip off: the house is heated and I was freezing. Those who know me know that I am rarely cold. So, I searched for a thermometer, praying that I had placed it in a "nie pakowac" drawer and ever so grateful that I did. 101 F! So, a few pain relievers later, the flu seems to be gone and I think my fever is breaking. I am still exhausted and have to pick up Thing 2 soon. Tonight, Thing 2 will have mommy in bed with her at 8pm. No need to beg me to lie down. They may need to beg me to get up!