So we're moving in. Well, we've moved in, but now we have to get our stuff out of the garage and into the places where it belongs. It's exhausting, both physically and mentally. In fact, I think the mental toll is actually worse than the physical toll.
As soon as we said yes to that teeny tiny duplex, the housing office called and said "Surprise! We have a four bedroom!" We soon found out that our new neighbors have the EXACT SAME STORY. My theory? That housing office is playing some sort of game. They're waiting to see if you're humble enough to take a crap house, and if you are, BAM! You get the good one. Sounds stupid, I know, but come ON, they're doing something fishy. I don't care, we got what we wanted, what they offered us in December right after the last break in. So I still feel foolish for not moving THEN, but it's sort of no harm no foul.
So we moved. In one day. It was BRUTAL, and all I really did was lay on the couch the whole time. People keep asking Nick if he got some guys from the boat to help out, and he has to admit that no, he didn't get any guys, he got Ericka. I know he's just the tiniest bit embarrassed to admit that a woman moved our entire house, but whatever- she's super strong, looks like a living breathing Barbie doll, and she's nice. She's like the total package. Which is what I overheard him saying to his dad, but instead of being jealous (considering I'm a two hundred pound acne infested SLOB) I was just happy that she did it. She carried all our bookcases and beds and tables and cabinets and pianos and chairs...maybe she could be my personal trainer when I finally want to lose weight? Because ya'll, seriously, she's so strong, but she doesn't look like a sheman. She looks like a Barbie doll. I don't get it.
Anyway. It was obviously overwhelming and I've been crying at least once an hour since we started, but it's done and we're here and I'm wearing a sweatshirt right now because I have the AC set on 67. I cooked last night on the electric stove and while it was awkward and weird and the heat didn't respond appropriately to my adjustments, it wasn't the end of the world, we all ate dinner and survived. The yard and the playroom are still issues that we need to work out, but I think we'll make it, I really do.
And hey, if nothing else, this move has SERIOUSLY taken my mind off these last excruciating days of pregnancy! I looked up this morning and thought "whoa, three days until I have a baby, that's weird!" So then I went back into that weird pregnancy-induced-psychosis and that's where we are now. Nick is back to trying to shelter the kids from their crazy mama and I'm holed up in my room trying not to murder anyone.
So here's some pics to keep you going. What a cute baby right?
The innocent looking cabinet under the sink (void of all danger until we get a baby lock on it).
But wait! What's that little hand?
Surprise! Here's Warren! Shouting "take my picture!!!"
What a cheeseball. And he did this for almost an hour.