This has been a difficult week for me. I am five weeks out from my due date and four weeks out from moving into our house. I am living in a two bedroom apartment with three little kiddos in a suburb that I am unfamiliar with. Our possessions are scattered in one of three locations. I can’t sleep at night because I am either plotting something brilliant (a habit of mine), trying to figure out paint colors, or because I am simply too pregnant to sleep. And not too much has been happening with the house this week.
I have to admit that yesterday, I gave up. I laid down in bed at four in the afternoon and would have sucked my thumb if my dignity would have permitted it. Instead, Greg brought in some headphones, plugged me into my favorite Pandora station to help me decompress, and made popcorn for dinner. My favorite.
I feel much more human today, especially after meeting with our contractor this afternoon. People always tell you that renovating will move slower than you want, will cost more than you planned, and that there will be unpleasant surprises along the way. I know all this in my head but experiencing it (especially in the height of my “nesting” phase) is just excruciating.
So tonight I am reminding myself of reality. Reality is that the house will be finished eventually, I will not be pregnant forever, and that this is actually an opportunity that I have been wanting for years. Reality check.