These last two weeks, I've started packing and cleaning a little bit more. Our notice was given to our landlords last week, we're out of this house July 31st. Not positive where our new home will be made yet, but that will be settled in a few weeks.
Th boy has changed houses so many times in his short lifespan. We moved to Saskatoon when he was a week old, we moved to Calgary for Hubby's internship when he was nearly two and Boy2 was four and a half months old, and we moved back here for Hubby's final year of study last August. That last move was especially difficult because I was ten weeks pregnant and miscarried not even a week before the move.
The Boy is a sensitive child. He quickly picks up on emotions and the stress of others surrounding him, primarily those of his parents. Four moves in the nearly four years of life he's had have taken their toll, but he's resilient. This time, at least, he's more able to understand what is happening and why, although that understanding is still very limited.
Last week, as I was packing up the stemware and platters, the Boy asked why I was packing. I explained as much as I was able. He then asked me if we didn't like this house anymore. "But I like this house!" Poor boy! It isn't that we don't like this house, but circumstances don't permit us to stay in this house. Sometime next month Daddy would go on a trip and find us a different house.
Monday, he was out with Daddy for a bit of a walk. He was asking if there were people living in this house, or this house, or what about that house. Daddy said that people were in all those houses. Later that afternoon he told me that Daddy couldn't find a new house. They were already full. How do you get a preschooler to understand? I know it'll come with time, but in the meantime, my heart breaks.
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