Movers are coming....

Tomorrow morning the movers are coming.

They will be here between 8:30 and 9:30.

I am a ball of hormones. And tears.

Not just about strange people touching all my crap and being in my house and up in my shit. But about moving to Texas.

I'm not ready for this.

I'm not ready to leave my family and move half way across the country, 2500 miles.

I am, and I'm not.

I mean, I'm ready to start fresh. I'm ready for a new part of my life, OUR LIVES, to begin. I'm ready for sunshine and outside time.....summer for 9 months out of the year instead of rain. Because you know, for the other three months, instead of snow, it's just too hot to function. Thank god for Central Air. I am ready to leave the yucky past behind. 2500 miles behind, and never hear of it again.

I'm not ready for change. I don't handle change well. I'm not ready to change doctors. I'm not ready for the kids to change schools. I'm not ready to not be able to go to Ugly Christmas Sweater Parties. I'm not ready to not be able to go have lunch with one of my friends that is so awesome she is better than a sister. I'm not ready to not have the prospect of having coffee with a friend. I'm not ready to not be able to call my mom up and say "I have an emergency, I need you to watch the baby/kids".

I am scared. Of newness. Of Change. Of not knowing the cultural, regional laws, rules, expectations.

I am scared of adventure. Of leaving the safety of my home.

Of starting OVER.

Now do this pregnant, medically fragile, with four kids, one of them a baby, and one of them seriously emotionally challenged.

I thought I was going to have my mom with me to help me feel okay about this along the way. I thought that someone who wasn't staying would be able to hold my hand for a little while and ease the emotional strain, or at least, help me control it. But she's not going to be there now. For space issues, for financial issues, for work issues. I get it. It's okay. I'm a big girl.

Now I'm just a sobbing mess and I'm not sure I will not be a sobbing mess off and on for the next two weeks.

At least until it sinks in that I'm okay, that it's all okay. That this move is meant to be, the way it IS meant to be.

For now, I'm just going to lay here and stare at the wall for a little while.....probably until I fall asleep....because I'm so emotionally drained and exhausted from all the 'pack the crap you don't want the movers to pack and put it in the bathroom 'runaround'" that I can't function any more tonight.

Although, I do kinda want to eat again. I'm always so damn hungry. I hate this 'diabetic' crap. I want a foot long roast beef and provolone subway sandwich on wheat, with lettus, tomato, pickles, olives and cucumbers. With oil and vinegar.

And some god damned cheesecake.