Mike started a new job last month. It means a little extra money for us, but a longer commute for him. Against our better judgement we’ve decided to move closer to his work. Did you hear that? We’re going to move. With two small children in tow! I don’t know what we’re thinking.
Ok I know what we’re thinking. We like the area more than here, it’s closer to his parents, and when I start looking for work again I have a lot of contacts and there are a lot of broadcasting opportunities. I may or may not also love that everywhere we’ve seen so far has been mere minutes to a Target…
Those prime areas (close to Target) are an hour away though, so that means we have to do marathon viewings on weekends. Last week was our first one, and I have to admit that it wasn’t terrible. It was exhausting though. We planned the trip around Owen’s nap pretty well. He fell asleep and let me transfer him in and out of the car for the first three houses. By the fourth and final house he woke up ravenous though, and a hungry Owen in the car seat is a very. Angry. Baby.
Everything turned out ok though because the house had a couch I could feed him on (thank you strangers I’ll never meet), and there was a big backyard where Adam could run around and stretch his legs while they waited.
This weekend we’re upping the ante and going to look at seven houses. Adam will mercifully be with Grandma and Grandpa, so at least we’ll only be carting around half of our brood.
I really dislike moving. I did too much of it as a kid, even more when I was in the military, and a fair amount since I separated. Hopefully this will be the last move for a very long time. Or at least until the kids are strapping teenagers and I can make them carry a fridge or something.