While packing for the move, I found an unused gift card to a local restaurant. We got some take-out tikka masala on the way to the airport, had a picnic in the cell phone lot, and said goodbye for a while.
I did manage to pack up four suitcases and forget only the house plant. I'm rather proud of that. My bag was easy; the maternity clothes came out of storage and straight into the suitcase. My belly popped right around then, so at least one transition went smoothly.
My last days in Oklahoma were spent in a steady low-grade panic. I figured it would get better after the move, and it did, in the sense that I was too tired to panic anymore. I spent two weeks too tired to think. I didn't post here or even talk to my husband much because I couldn't put anything into words. Instead, I put it all into dreams. Vivid dreams about travel, school, people from my past, loneliness, failure. I got maybe one good night's sleep in half a month.
My husband is still in Oklahoma preparing our house for sale, and I've started work at my mom's office. I once ran the place, but nearly everything has changed since then. I had to ask others how to unlock print jobs and where office supplies are stored. I flipped through the office procedures manual, and only one section remains from what I'd written years ago. Everything else has changed.
Our daughter's new preschool is also an adjustment. Not only are the hours longer than she's used to, but she needs to wear closed-toe shoes, her hair has to be pulled back, she can use only a certain kind of sleep mat, and pillows aren't allowed at all. These restrictions aren't helping with what is already a difficult transition. She's taken to clinging to my neck in the mornings. She's never done that before, not even the very first day she went to school.
We're still hopeful that this will be a good change for our family in the long run. The here-and-now is rough, but we expected that.