And then there are the parts that are sad. Weirdly, oddly, unexpectedly, and unwelcome-ly (it's my blog, I can make up a word if I want) sad.
Tonight is our last night sleeping in this house. Our home. I put the baby to bed tonight for the last time in her first room. Unfortunately, she has to sleep in a pack 'n' play for the first night of the next month+. (We decided to take her crib apart ourselves so that we could be sure of where the parts are, and so that Jason could be sure of how to put it back together at the other end. I'm sure the directions are around somewhere, but who wants to look for them?) Even more unfortunately, she did NOT like the pack 'n' play and was VERY difficult to get down.
Well, it was either the lack of a crib, or it was her innate sense of her Mommy's sadness. Tonight is our last night in this house. Tomorrow, the movers will probably get the bulk of our worldly possessions (and there are a lot of them) packed up into boxes. They'll stack them high in the living room, or maybe the garage, and, little by little, this will become not our home anymore. And then tomorrow afternoon, we'll go to the title company and sign the paperwork, selling our first home to someone new.
Add to all that the fact that I suddenly have this strange sentimental attachment to Kodiak - the place I've wanted to leave desperately for the last year or so - and it's just a weird night. An odd, unexpected and strange night. I'm sure the exhaustion isn't helping. And I KNOW the worry about forgetting something isn't helping. But I really didn't expect these feelings.
Check back with me in a little over a month and I'll let you know if I'm still sad to not be in Kodiak anymore.