I. Am. Exhausted.
We had a lot of help with moving. Mostly, I stayed by the door and told the men what floors to take things too.... But then I had to UNpack everything, and rearrange things, and try to find other things, which basically consists of me running back and forth up and down two flight of stairs.
Which also leads me to believe that when I said "I will be thin if it kills me" I WAS MISTAKEN. Because I'm getting thinner, and it IS killing me, because I AM DYING.
Fortunately, there's proof that it's not just me being lazy. My two year old, Taylor, refuses to use the stairs. She stands on whatever floor she's on and screams at the top of her lungs for someone to go and get her. Even when she needs to come DOWN. It's just too much work for her short little baby legs.
So, yes, we're moved, we survived, everyone has all their body parts intact.... and my baby girl is a fat lard.
