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  • Writer's pictureEliana

The Story of an Average Moving Day (The Youngster Outlook on Traveling Part 2)

Updated: Mar 16, 2020

This week in our series, you will here of the chaos that happens on a moving day (one of the days we pack up the RV to drive to the next campground/place to stay).

If you haven't already read the other post in this series, you can check it out here.

Now, not all traveling days look this way, but most sway towards it. Some manage to be calm, some end with one of the three littles crying over something they forgot in the car, but most typically end with everyone breathing a sigh of relief that everyone managed to stay calm and focused. That, and another sigh that we didn’t get yelled at by the campground manager for not leaving at eleven a.m. and having to pay a thirty dollar fine. (That is a rule at one place.) Another thing, not all days are this dramatic. This is more so a combination of different stories on different days (but it’s easier to write it as one story). So anyhow…enjoy!

The noise of plates and spoons were my sign that I had to wake up. I yawned and stretch, then layed down once more, racking my brain for why Mama looked so rushed. The movie lightbulb went of in my head, and in a moment the covers were off.

I took the two throw blankets, fitted sheet, and pillow off my ‘bed,’ and folded the jackknife couch back into it’s couch form. I then rolled and stuffed my pillows and blankets behind the couch. Micah was still sleeping on his bed beside me. His bed turned into our ‘dining room’ table.

As I did all this, I coaxed myself into ‘Mommy mode,’ my least favorite attitude, but also most helpful to the parents. ‘Mommy mode’ was who helped Momma clean up, make breakfast, wash dishes, make lunch, wash dishes again, pick up again, and do every other random chore that was needed of me.

Once the bed was done, I turned around and asked Mama (who was washing and drying last night’s dinner dishes), “How can I be of assistance?” My voice was edged with the rasp of sleep, and hers with impatience as she answered,

“Please. Assist. Your crying. Sister. In the back room. To clean up. Before I throw. All. Her toys. In. The trash.”

Enough said. I walked down the hall and hit my head as the bathroom door to my left opened. “Sorry Ellie,” Naomi said breezing past me. I rubbed my sore noggin', then walked the last of the two steps into the backroom.

Oy, Oy, Oy. I thought to myself. The floor was covered in books and toys, the bed with clothes, the dresser had PJ’s falling off it, and up in her bunk above Naomi and Judah’s twin bed, Eden was bawling her eyes out. I flipped into big sister mode, and inched up to her slowly. “What’s wrong?”

“Mommy…is…g, g, going t, t, to throw…away, MY TOYS!” She choked out between sobs.

“And…how exactly does crying prevent her from doing that?”

She looked up at me out of the corner of her eye. “It doesn’t?”

“Precisely! Which is why you will now stop crying, and assist me with what will really prevent you form losing this…stuff." The scraps of paper and dried out markers (which she thought to be her treasures) really were just junk, but it would do no good to tell her so.

We picked up, swept, folded blankets, threw away, organized, and (one of us) nearly threw a tantrum over the fact that her beloved paper airplane had to go in the trash.

“Thank you Ellie,” Eden said when we were done. I nodded, then turned and knocked on the bathroom door, hoping to get changed and freshen up before we left.

“Go away," Micah’s voice said from inside. Grand, another sibling who got off on the wrong foot. Only this one I knew would not let me comfort him.

Back in the kitchen, Judah was on the iPad, and Naomi was upset because Mama wouldn’t let her make her own toast. “Sorry Na, but that really isn’t a battle worth fighting.”

“Jason!” Mama yelled to Daddy outside, “it smells like sewage in here!”

“That’s because I’m unhooking the sewage tank, Al. Relax.”

I covered my nose as the rotten smell filled the RV (like it always does I’m afraid to say). I then reached up into Mama and Daddy’s bed (who sleep over the driver’s area in our Class C).

Beside their bed is my clothing basket, in which I keep everything except my church clothes (They hang in a closet in the three littles room). I grabbed a shirt and shorts, and then posted myself in the back room, waiting for Micah to get out of the bathroom.

After another ten minutes or so, the sliding door (we have two doors in our bathroom) opened, and Micah came grumbling out. The bathroom itself was not a pleasant sight. I threw my brother’s clothing in the hamper, dried the floor he had wetted with water and hair gel, closed the shower, put away all the things he had left out on the sink, and then got ready for the day.

Eventually the breakfast dishes were put away, the beds were all made, and everyone was dressed. “If your ready, put your shoes on and go out to the car," Mama said. That made everyone get up to grab activity books and such, then rush outside.

There is a bit of an unwritten order to how moving day’s go. I do the back room and spruce up the bathroom, Mama does everything up front, and Daddy is in charge of the outside.

Indeed, he had already put the shoes back into the basement (what we call the storage we have underneath), picked up all Judah’s toys, set out separate shoes for each of us to wear, put the awning in, rolled up and put away the rugs we use, folded up chairs, put away the grill, the list goes on. Let's just say that the majority of our days are spent outside.

But then of course, Eden didn’t want those flip flops, and Judah needed some of his toys for the car, so I ended up repacking up the shoes and toys, and putting them back into the basement. Micah asked to sit with Daddy in the RV, though apparently Eden had already ‘called’ that honer yesterday. They bickered for another few minutes, till finally Eden took her toys, and placed them in the car huffing.

“Thank you, Eden,” I whispered to her. “You handled that well. Good job on not tattling to Daddy.” I had no idea who was right but I honestly couldn’t take anymore tears, and her face was rather close to crying some.

Once everyone was locked and loaded, Daddy finished unhooking the water and electric, Mama hooked up the GPS with our next destination, and with a turn of the ignition, we drove our life on to a new place, ready for our next adventure.

Photo credit: Samm Travers

Part three coming next week!

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