If you move it . . . it will come.

As I write this initial post, we are one week away from the "blissful" process of moving from our somewhat large home in an upper middle class neighborhood (a "hood", by the way, that our "kind" never should have penetrated), into our new and humble rental house where the glorious life begins (sounds so dramatic, doesn't it?)

As my husband and I pour over our emotions about the memories (both good and not so good) of our soon to be former life and home, my six year old daughter gently brings us back to the present moment. "Come on, mom! Let's pack up my room and get this show on the road. You've been saying you're going to do it for days now. It won't feel empty, I won't be lonely in there! I've got my new room to get to and decorate and I'm going to put a sign on the corner inviting all of our new neighbors to stop by and meet us and, more importantly, to check out my new room." 'Nuff said. The grand adventure awaits us . . .and there certainly is no time for lollygagging down memory lane! You gotta love the honesty and optimism of a six year old . . .

The 40-something parents, however, will go the route of a refill on that martini, thank you very much, and boost our optimism as we fill another box. "Step it up a notch, I say to my husband. It's go time! The BLISS . . . it's out there . . . it's waiting for us . . . it's just around the corner. If you move it (our life) . . . it (the bliss) will come!"