Oh, it feels so good to breathe again.

Or should I say stop to breathe again.

I’ve been mostly absent for a while, I know. In March, this beautiful baby girl was born and then when she was three weeks old I arbitrarily, without thinking about what I would do if I actually got it, applied for a job as a barista in the middle of the night and was offered it the next day. First time working in three years with a three week old plus a toddler at home. That really threw me off.

Then we traveled across the state, drove to Ohio, and had friends and family come to stay with us. My best friend came in April and a few days later her boyfriend proposed so we planned another trip to New Mexico.

My entire family–yes, my parents and all four of my siblings–came to stay with us in July. We decided to put our house up for rent the day after they left just to see if there was any interest and two days later we had tenants, so we made the difficult decision to go stay with family while my husband stayed behind to finish up his time in the Marine Corps. We were downsizing in hopes the transition would be simpler.

But the more we thought and prayed and sought wisdom from others, the less we could fathom being apart for nine months so we decided to find an apartment. A few days later, we found the one for our family, right in the heart of Wilmington, and in the beginning of August we were told we had two weeks to move in.

Two weeks?!

We had been thinking we had two months before moving and to prepare, I had done exactly…nothing.

Seriously. Nothing.

Two weeks meant our moving day fell the day before my aforementioned best friend’s wedding, which would have been awful except that my husband’s leave to attend the wedding had been denied by the Marine Corps so he was staying behind anyway. Maybe it would make the move easier not to have the kids around and he would be busy which would be a good distraction from the kids and I vacationing (in the mountains below!) without him.

Thus began the busiest two weeks of, possibly, my entire life.

If you have ever tried moving with a toddler around, you understand where I am coming from. It’s similar to doing anything with a toddler–mostly it feels like you’re moving backwards as they pull things out of boxes, pour toys all over the floors you just mopped, spill almond milk on the freshly steam-cleaned sofas, and just generally undo the work you’ve completed.

Add to the mix a four month old baby who needs to be snuggled and fed every three hours and the whirlwind pace you need to complete your jobs all but slows to a halt.

Yep, there was moving. Organizing boxes of baby clothes I forgot we had, donating oodles of everything under the sun, cleaning out closets that hadn’t seen the light of day since we moved in two years ago–we made a commitment long ago not to accumulate excess junk and still I was shocked by how much stuff we had! Where did it all even come from? 2036 square feet of possessions we had to downsize into 900 square feet and no garage.

Then there was also traveling.

Logistically, I could see no way to get myself, a single stroller, a convertible car seat, three bags, a toddler, and a baby through the airport on my own–none of it was checked and I do only have two hands. Then there was the whole two kids by myself on an airplane thing and I didn’t want to go to the wedding without my sexy man and gosh, I worried. I worried to the point that there was no point worrying anymore and I gave up even thinking about it because in my mind the entire trip was doomed anyway.

I’m only sort of joking.

Those two weeks I literally worked from waking up until going to bed at night, almost all day every day, except for the days when I was still working my part time job as a barista. My poor baby lay on the sofa for hours wriggling her tiny arms and chubby legs and grinning at me every time I made faces at her. My poor toddler ran around the house exploring every new box, unpacking my morning’s work, generally wreaking havoc. Actually, I don’t feel bad for that one at all!

Our final day in the house I had to hire a babysitter so I could focus and I worked my patootie off packing and organizing and packing some more and finally there was no more time, nothing else I could do.

That night my husband dropped us off at his aunt and uncle’s house in Raleigh so we could make our 6:00am flight to New Mexico a little easier. (They live 15 minutes from the airport; we live 2 and a half hours away.)

We woke up at 3:30am that morning and it began. Backpack on my back, baby on my chest, duffel bag over my shoulder, diaper bag over my other shoulder, car seat in my hand, toddler in the stroller. A 6 hour layover in Denver later–praise Jesus for the USO military lounge–and we were on our way to New Mexico! Toddler and I were running on almost no sleep but we all made it relatively unscathed.

Our New Mexico trip is another story, and it definitely had it’s why-did-I-ever-think-this-would-be-a-good-idea moments, but family and friends who are like family pulled us through each time. If I had known how the trip would test my patience and financial and time management skills, and had I known about the challenges my husband would have moving on his own, I likely would have chosen not to go, but I know I will never regret having been at my best friend’s wedding.

Our flight was delayed on the way home but we did eventually make it. We walked through the door, over the moon excited to see our brand new apartment, and realized although we had applied for a beautifully renovated unit, management had put us in a “classic,” meaning 30 years old, bottoms falling through the cabinets, moldy window sills, broken dishwasher, holes in the walls…

And you know what? If we had known what this place would be like, we probably wouldn’t have moved at all either. But God knew where He was putting us. He knew that parts of our New Mexico trip would be awful but that He would put family around to help me handle it. He knew when we started considering downsizing that He would orchestrate it so we moved and I traveled across the country alone with two children in the same week.

Now that it’s over, we can stop and breathe again.

God is good, life is chaos, and that’s part of the adventure of it all.