How Moving Challenged Our Marriage

A week or so ago, I mentioned that we were in the process of moving, and today, I am excited to tell you, that we are almost all settled into our new place! By Wednesday, I found the motivation to unpack, organize and clean things up a bit. Our kitchen and bathroom are officially put together, and are free of boxes. It feels great!!! Tonight, Joe is going to hopefully hang up the rest of our decor and I need to find spots for a few more random things that are still boxed up, but by mid week, we'll be ready for visitors!

how moving challenged our marriage

The move from our parent's houses into our very first home together when we got married, we kind of didn't participate in. The complex wouldn't let us move in until the day after our wedding, so I accumulated shower gifts in my in laws basement and packed what I needed to from my own room (I don't even remember packing, it was that painless) and our families moved everything over for us while we were on our honeymoon. Unpacking wasn't lovely, but we survived.

This pup wants to sit outside all night, he loves the freedom!

This move however, has not been fun or easy. I'd like to blame the spontaneity of the move, but at the same time, I'm sure all moves are rough. A little over a month ago, we started toying with the idea that we should move out of our apartment complex and into a basement apartment. We had been dealing with some disrespectful neighbors who weren't following the rules of the complex laid out in the lease and management didn't care that those rules were being broken or do anything to make our situation better. It was more of a nuisance than anything, but we were really sick of living there and every little thing pushed us further and further to our breaking point. We had two places that we could potentially move to, so we started the process of getting out of our lease.

Within two weeks, management let us know that our move out date would be August 16th (that's the day they'd do the walk through). We had two weeks and two days from that point to pack, clean and move out. Not a huge deal, except for the fact that we were going to be on vacation for five days during that time and would have to move out the day after we got home in order to have the apartment cleaned and ready for inspection on time. On top of that, Joe was working 10 hour shifts the week before our trip so that he wouldn't have to use as many vacation days to cover it. I was left to pack everything up on my own and half of my fun filled, last month of freedom before school starts, was all of the sudden taken hostage by stress and a not fun project.

Halfway through packing, the boxes are piling up.

We managed to survive the process of moving out thanks to a bag of chocolate (provided by my husband), lots of eating out, and the husband being at work during my most frustrated and annoyed points of the night. There were quite a few emotional breakdowns on my end (I'm blaming those on my hormones, legitimately) and a few nights when I was so determined to finish packing something, but so tired and stressed that I couldn't function and Joe would follow me around begging me to come to bed so I could sleep and feel better and tackle everything fresh and energized the next day. It was a challenge, but after we got that part of the move done, I figured we'd be past the worst of it and it would be smooth sailing from there on out.

Boy was I wrong! The day the movers came, I had to go back to work, but Joe had taken a few extra days off to help with everything, so he was there to supervise and assured me that I didn't need to worry. (A big thank you goes out to my amazing mom who spent hours at our old apartment that afternoon, deep cleaning it so there was less for us to do to get it ready for inspection!) I came home to our new place that night, only to find my kitchen full of dressers, our bed, cupboards and boxes galore. We were going to shampoo the front room carpet and wanted to set up the bedroom first, so not a lot could be stashed in those rooms until we were done. I felt really overwhelmed, didn't know where to start and wasn't a very pleasant person to be around.

This was AFTER the mattresses had been moved out.

Joe's awesome brother stuck around until midnight or one that first day, opening boxes to see what was in them and moving them to whatever room I told him I wanted them to go. (A lot of stuff got randomly thrown into boxes and my labels disappeared so I had no clue what was what.) He witnessed quite a few arguments between the husband and I, him wanting to stick things that we don't use all of the time in storage and me determined to find a place for them because I would probably use them more often than he thought. I'm a little OCD and stubborn, so trying to help me unpack is the most frustrating task in the world.

The next day Joe finished cleaning our old place and did the walk through. Then his brother spent the rest of the day with him, painting the bathroom and working on projects in the new place. They were amazing, and super helpful, but I was really frustrated that none of my boxes were disappearing and I was stuck tackling the unpacking on my own after work each night. Who could blame them though, nobody wanted to put anything away in the wrong spot and get in trouble for it later. :P

There has been a lot of procrastination on my end, and if I would have spent the first few nights we were here unpacking and doing nothing else, I probably would have been done by now, but that's just not how I roll. The kitchen itself took me about three days to finally put together (we won't even talk about putting my kitchen together at our first apartment, maybe that's another story for another day). And I probably would have left it for last because it was too overwhelming to think about if my awesome sister in law hadn't come over and started unpacking boxes and handing me food to put away.

The never ending cupboard of food, I didn't even want to look at it.

I've had to recollect my entire pile of DI stuff that got thrown in random boxes because I didn't have time to box it up before I left the morning of the move, we can't find the remote to the TV in our bedroom and my husband has lost his nice church belt (a tradition for moves now he says since it happened last time and he just had to get a new one), but hopefully they'll turn up in one of the last six or seven boxes that I need to go through. School started today, and I'd hoped to have everything done by now, but after three days of motivation and productivity last week, I was worn out. Plus, I still don't know where I'm going to put some of the random odds and ends yet.

How was moving a challenge for our marriage? I have been the most unpleasant person ever to deal with, this move brought out the worst in me and it was not pretty. It all happened so quickly, I wasn't able to be as organized as I wanted to be, and with my husband working late for reasons out of his control, both the week before and after the move, I've thrown pity parties because "I've been doing all the work." (Really, he's done a lot, I'm just a drama queen sometimes.) Not to mention, I had big, fun plans for the last month of summer break, before I had to go back to being tied down by homework every night, and all of them got cancelled or I didn't even bother trying to plan them because it added too much stress.

Even the puppy didn't know where to hang out during the move.

All complaining aside, we LOVE our new apartment. We have the greatest upstairs neighbors, there is a track right behind us for when I want to be good and go running again, Howie really enjoys having a yard to hang out in all night long, and we are saving A LOT of money. This move has been really great for us, and I know that we won't regret it. Next time though, I think I'll hire someone to pack, move and unpack all of my boxes because I'm not sure I can go through that again and be sane by the time it is all over. I'm so glad I have a patient husband who knows just how to deal with me when most normal people would walk away. And we wouldn't have been able to do this all without our amazing families there for moral support and to help us with random things!

Before we got a rope so that he could roam and not escape.

Have you ever had a stressful situation that brought out the worst in you? How did you handle it?