Saturday I had my writer's group meeting. (Always a wonderful time) I knew my family was going to be working on cleaning bedrooms while I was gone - K1 is getting a waterbed from a friend of ours and his room needed cleaned. K2 is taking his old bed, and her room needed clean. Sounds like a pain, but kind of normal, right?
Not. I came home only to find everyone had decided to switch bedrooms. K2 is at an age where sharing with her little sister is no longer working out. We've talked about this move for months, but I wasn't quite ready for it. Now I have no choice. I am feeling good about it, just a little overwhelmed. And a lot exhausted.
After two straight days of moving stuff, cleaning and lugging furniture, I am bruised, bloody and no longer have a decent fingernail. We have holes to patch, painting to do and carpet to remove before the switch over is complete.
Change is good, right?