Our move into our rental house is slated for Tuesday, the 30th, and we're ready. At least, as ready as you can be for a move from one house to another half its size, with a 2 and 4 year old in tow, a pug dog, and two home businesses. The trickiest part was deciding what goes to the rental house, and what gets packed into a pod in our driveway for the duration of the construction. When you're separating your belongings in such a way, trying to take with you as few things as possible due to limited space, limited time, and convenience factor, you realize how few items you really need to function on a daily basis.
For example, half of my kitchen stuff is packed away, not to be seen again for six months. And more than 2/3 of the girls' toys have been packed away for a week or two, and to date, they haven't missed a single thing. Those toys will stay out of sight and out of mind for six whole months, and if I have anything to say about it (wait a minute...I DO!), they'll go straight to the donation pile upon our return. I didn't want to be too hasty in tossing toys as I was packing, because Bernie is only two, and I know there were things in those boxes that Deirdre loved to play with during her 2's and 3's. But the boxes of toys we DID cart away, I felt good about, and we'll always have the opportunity to donate the rest upon our return. I think my pre-sorting will pay off.
What has already paid off is the help we received from my dad in the packing department. My sister orchestrated his visit from Indiana, thank goodness, because I don't think I would have gotten around to asking him to come out. I just didn't think we were going to need the help. I thought we had it covered, and I suppose we might have been able to do it. But because he showed up, ready and eager to help, we didn't have to find out. He came out and packed for the better part of three or four days, (minus story time with the girls and all the rest). so that means I could still nap, I could still go to bed at a decent hour each night, and I could relax, knowing I would have help the following day. I didn't have to push myself, and Johnny didn't have to miss work. We didn't have to worry that the move would make me sick - or that too many things would be left to the end. With my dad's assistance, those worries were instantly eliminated. And the alleviation of that stress was a lifesaver (or should I say a "flaresaver"?)
He packed while I napped, he packed while I shuttled around the girls. He packed without complaint, and with the meticulousness that is priceless. And we had a good time spending time side by side - good old Dad helping out his youngest daughter...again.
So why didn't I ask? I knew he'd come if I asked him. In fact, he'd volunteered to do so multiple times over the past month. But you know how it is - you don't want to burden someone else with your workload, you don't want to worry about how little they'll think you've accomplished, or offend them by how much you're asking them to do. You think it's more trouble than it's worth to ask, and most importantly, you convince yourself that even if you could use the help, you should be able to do it yourself.
And those "shoulds" are always the guys that get lupites into trouble. Sure, we could do it on our own, but why? If help is readily available, we need to accept it. If a little assistance will ease our life with lupus, and increase our chances of being healthy, why not set ourselves up to succeed? Maybe you've been able to accomplish "X" on your own in the past. Maybe you know just how you'd like "X" done, and you don't trust anyone else to do it. I'm here to tell you - you're not going to get the chance to do "X" if you keep on ignoring the help, and pushing yourself beyond your limits.
So I thank my sister and my dad for setting me up to succeed. They made me look like an all-star mom, wife, and mover, because a) I'm healthy, b) the house is packed, and c) I'm ready to tackle the weeks to come. I've sacrificed nothing, and gained everything. A win-win all around!