So. We did it.
We’re Chicagoans again.
The girls and I arrived yesterday (Tues) via plane. T-Bone arrives tomorrow via U-Haul truck.
In short, the girls traveled amazingly and I am oh so grateful. Poppy was on her best behavior in months and although Boo came down with her first illness the day before we left (of course), she weathered the flight and all the other hubbub in usual Boo form — smiling like a fool and making friends with everyone within eyesight. Only this time, she did it with snot pouring from both nostrils and dripping from her chin. Oh, and running a fever.
I have no idea what I did to deserve these two.
Since arriving, we’ve been holed up at my mom’s place, trying to relax and get our bearings. We’ve had some apartment drama as one place we thought we were going to land slipped through our fingers, but it looks like the universe is righting itself and we’re on the verge of of securing an even better apartment in coming days. And still in time to move our belongings directly from the truck and into our new home, without having to temporarily store it all somewhere and move it twice.
Keep your fingers crossed, though. Our signatures aren’t on the lease yet.
Moving is hard. I cried as we left Brooklyn yesterday. I cried saying good-bye to our BFFs the night before. And then I had a great big extended Ugly Cry after the elevator doors shut behind them as they left. I continue to tear up every time I think about the end of our weekly Friday fun together. I cried last night when I was laying in bed with my sleepy girls, everyone in a half awake state as we ended the day, and I and Love and You came up on our bedtime playlist. I cried this afternoon after reading Half a World Away with P and she responded by bursting into tears, telling me she doesn’t like living in Chicago, and wants to go home to her house, please.
Leaving behind friends, especially first friends, is not easy.
P keeps asking me where her friends are and I thought she meant her Brooklyn friends. But tonight, when I asked her to elaborate, she started naming family members.
“Big Al! And Nana! And my cousins. Where my cousin friends?”
I guess she’s been listening all these weeks when we promised that although we were leaving behind our New York friends, we had plenty of friends waiting for us in Chicago to make it a little less sad. And now she’s trying to call our bluff. It makes sense — we’re in Chicago so where is everyone, MOM?
Clearly, we’ll have to remedy that this weekend.
Overall, we’re doing well. If anything, everything feels like our normal July trip home rather than a move. We’re just hanging out, couch surfing, catching up with family — the usual. Only this time, we’re not going back. We’re going to move all of our worldly possessions into a suburban apartment in coming days, we’re on the hunt for a used minivan, and T is going to start commuting to the Loop for a new job in just a week and a half.
That’s when things are going to get weird.
Until then, I think I’m going to live in denial. It feels easier that way. And will probably involve fewer tears.
I miss you, Brooklyn.