My parents are moving out of their home of 35 years, into a condominium nearby. The house they are in is lovely and unusual and has been a wonderful place to call home, but the yard and the pool and the house are all getting to be too much for them to maintain, and so they've decided to pack up and move to slightly smaller quarters with a yard service.
Thing 1 has been entirely sanguine about the idea of them moving, but Thing 2 has been having a bit of a hard time with it. She's definitely the one who uses the pool the most, and she will miss that keenly, but also, this is the biggest change she's ever had in her 11 years, and the adjustment has taken some time. (I was fretting a little bit about her to one of my friends, who had enough of my whining and said "look, it's not like either of her parents has just discovered they are gay, or are getting a divorce or moving her from her house or anything else that blows a kid's world to smithereens in a couple of words. She'll get over it." My friends are awesome.)
Today my mom and dad got the key to the new place, and we all trooped over to take a look. I had seen it before, but it was all new to the kids, and they had a proper look at the place. Both of them were enchanted by the novelty of the whole enterprise, and spent a good deal of time inspecting every nook and cranny, and reporting on their findings. ("Look! They left a medical dictionary!", "A jacuzzi tub!", " ) My mother sent them off to count the phone jacks and they marvelled at the plasma tv that was left as part of the deal.
After about a half an hour or so, Thing 2 bounced into the kitchen and happily looked around while asking "So, where will we keep the treats?".
I think she's completed the mental gymnastics necessary to accept the new place.