I haven’t yelled at my daughter in over 24 hours.
I can’t believe I am able to say that. I can’t believe I have to say that.
We’re still in the midst of our move from Louisiana to Florida, though we are in Florida. We’re currently homeless, but staying in a borrowed vacation condo owned by a very generous friend.
On the way here, 400+ miles from our destination, our rental truck broke down. This fiasco included 5 hours roadside in the middle of the night with an exhausted, hungry toddler, a fight with the truck rental company, and eventually an overnight tow of over 400 miles. Thankfully the tow truck had a sleeper car.
We stayed with my inlaws for a few nights (the longest days and nights of my life). The house is filled with dogs and breakables, and I think I spent about 90% of my waking hours screaming “no!” and “get away from that!” and “stop!” as my poor, bored child tried to enjoy herself. Unfortunately, the waking hours were also very long since I couldn’t seem to sleep.
Our move had gone from well-planned to nightmarish. Since the truck was broken we couldn’t drive it to the storage facility, so we had to borrow a box truck from friends, hire some movers via Craigslist and move everything from truck A to truck B to the storage facility.
We got to the borrowed condo yesterday afternoon in the pouring rain. I hadn’t slept in 3 days, I had to walk around on eggshells with my mother in law and this poor sweet baby girl was bored, exhausted and frustrated. My anxiety level was through the roof.
Since we arrived we have: eaten, slept, napped, cuddled, snacked and enjoyed the moments of sunshine between rain storms. She is more relaxed and happy. I am more relaxed and happy. I haven’t had to yell, she hasn’t had to cry. Life is good.
We just have to find a real place to live now.