In between midnight feedings and daytime catnaps it occurs to me that in one month I am moving across the country.
I have a list of major life events, most of them my own, that are coming together to impose themselves on me all within about an 8 week time period. Things like having a baby. Check. That's been taken care of. Or packing up the house. For that we're waiting for the moving guy to come and give us an estimate on cost, after which we can schedule a time to move our stuff, which will then allow us to book airfare for six people, hopefully at a semi-reasonable price and hopefully all together in two rows, instead of scattered through out the plane, for the sake of the other passengers.
Once that is taken care of, we will find ourselves in Utah, crowding my parents basement just in time for one sister to return home from her mission and another sister's wedding. Then we will look to buy a house, a minivan, and eventually a real live piano that I can play carols on at Christmas time. Also Ben will jump into his new position and try and prepare for the classes he'll be teaching at the same time as helping me take care of the above.
It sounds kind of fun, huh? It certainly has the potential to be overwhelming, but I think I've hit a nice little patch of oblivious denial where I look around at the green, green trees, turn on the air conditioners to help contain the creeping humidity, watch my mom wrestle the girls out the door to the park, hold my sweet little baby and think, this has real potential for crazy, but life is good.