I'm just now recovering from one very intense weekend.
1) Moving is crazy and takes far longer than it should.
Seriously. Even having taken three very full carloads of stuff to the new apartment a couple weeks back, we had too much left to move. I had no idea our nice, uncluttered two-bedroom apartment could hold so much crap. Apparently the people at UHaul didn't know either, because the truck size they suggested was slightly inadequate. In addition, the aforementioned crap took much longer to load than expected. Hours more. Exhausting hours more.
2) Last-minute helpers are WONDERFUL people.
When we realized that the two of us were not going to be able to finish loading in a timely manner, and that not all of our things were going to fit into our 14' truck, Evan's brother Peter (and his van) came to our rescue. Besides being another non-pregnant pair of hands, he provided a definite morale boost. Even with his help, however, as late-afternoon wore away, we were running short on time to make the drive to the storage unit in Waukesha, unload there, drive to Milwaukee, and unload the rest of our things. Peter called his wife, Marsha, to come help. I had the idea of calling our dear friends, the Gehlbachs, to see if their son Andrew was available to help with the unloading. He wasn't, but we got Pastor, Susan, Maggie, and a friend instead. They helped us completely fill our storage unit, and Pastor Gehlbach, Susan, Peter, and Marsha stuck around until 11:00 p.m. to finish unloading at the apartment downtown. There aren't enough ways to say thank you to them.
3) "You're not a Russian peasant woman, giving birth out in the fields. You need to take it easy."
I'm not good at taking it easy or holding back when other people are hard at work. Right or wrong, it makes me feel uncomfortably guilty. It happened last Summer when my family was working on destruction and remodeling at the new house; as long as my brothers were going, I was going to keep going, too. That's great when you're just a twenty-something girl in fairly good shape who can deal with waking up with sore muscles. When you're that same twenty-something girl AND seven months pregnant, however.... Let me just say that getting up for church Sunday morning was one of the more difficult things I've done in a long time, matched only by pulling myself out of bed Monday morning. Swollen and sore feet, back ache, arms 3x heavier than they should be, and general crabbiness and shortness of temper are just a few of the delightful side-effects from which I'm finally recovering. And we get to do it all again in just over two months. Two weeks before my due date. But that's what my brothers are for.