The Mary Poppins Drawer of Possibility (+ a little giveaway)

Does this look familiar?…

{note the naughty puppy photo-bombing on the bottom right, joyfully attacking my plant}

{note the naughty puppy photo-bombing on the bottom right, joyfully attacking my plant}

Yes. It’s that one drawer in your house that is the family’s dumping ground. Need a hair elastic? A Panadol? An allen key to put together your new Ikea furniture? This is where you’ll find one.

I like to call it: The Mary Poppins Drawer of Fun.

I think I am a reasonably organised person, but for some reason The Mary Poppins Drawer of Fun is completely UNorganised – mostly with take away menus that have been tried (or the intention to try). And as we have moved house 3 times in the last 4 years, we have quite the impressive collection of Melbourne’s finest (and not so fine) take-away menus. Continue reading

The case of the mysteriously appearing Nappies

Regulars to the sorella-hood will know that I recently moved house (- and survived, although this mid-move pic may lead you to believe otherwise):

I find that hiding in a packing box for a while every now and then can help reduce anxiety

I find that hiding in a packing box for a while every now and then can help reduce anxiety

Moving house provides the opportunity for discovery:

  • That earring you lost 2 years ago
  • The spare car key (you blamed your husband for losing) in the pocket of the shorts you wore all summer
  • The receipts you desperately needed for last years tax return

And then there are the discoveries of other things. Things that you had no idea were residing in your house in the first place.

Here’s an example:

  • Three quarters of a pack of boys nappies

nappies

There’s nothing extraordinary about these nappies. They are just your regular run of the mill disposable nappies.

The extraordinary part is that I don’t know where they have come from.

I don’t have children of my own, and I don’t recall buying them in some sort of comatose supermarket shop at midnight. So I’m dumbfounded. I just don’t know how they got into my house, or with whom. Continue reading

The thing we all have to do in life now and then (that makes me want to hide in a cardboard box with a bottle of wine, rock back and forth and pretend it isn’t happening)

So I’m facing something this fortnight that is in my top 5 of life’s most painful must-dos.  Others seem to manage it quite well. Some even live to tell the tale while facing it in a foreign country while 9 months pregnant and a toddler in tow.

But no, not me.

I’m a weakling. This thing takes so much thought, effort, and quite often – pain.

It can rattle me to my core of vulnerability. I lie awake at night with questions:

“How am I going to make this work? How the bloody hell am I going to get though this?”

In the past when a friend informs me that they are facing this life change, I cringe. My stomach drops.

I want to back away slowly, while offering the usual pitiful condolences that are called for in times like these – pitiful because really, there is nothing to say to help ease the pain:

“What a terrible thing to have to face when life was rolling on so well, and you were so comfy. Good luck my dear friend. See you on the other side”…

I sometimes take around a ready-made meal or two. God knows they’ll be needing it.

I sometimes also offer a spare pair of hands. But only if they are a really really close friend.

If they aren’t – they will not see me. They will not hear from me. I will wait a good few weeks just to make sure they are through the thick of it and ready to get back into life.

And I wouldn’t expect any of my friends to stick around either. No friend should have to help carry this burden.

Or my fridge.

Wish me luck my dear sorellas.

It’s moving house day.

empty box 2 box 2

I find that hiding in a packing box for a while every now and then can help reduce anxiety

I find that hiding in a packing box for a while now and then can help reduce anxiety.

What are your tips for surviving moving house?

~ anna

P.S Renting’s a bitch.