Delicious Hydrangeas

Everything about our house is delicious.
The street.
The light fixtures.
The tile.
The linen closets.
The pantry I can spin around in.
The grass in my yard.
The stairs.
My closet!
Oh my closet!
The window treatments.
The garage.
I have a garage!
The hydrangeas the sellers left for us on the counter.
I want to roll around in the carpet.
Let the pork loin play all night.
Stay up for the sunrise.
I'm in love.
In so many ways.

No place

There is a 40 foot trailer outside my door.
It's john's.
Bless him.
I feel like we are going on vacation.
But with all of our stuff.
I have anxiety about leaving our home.
The one we brought our babies home to.
The one I became a mother in.
To go live in someone else's memories.
Like I'm stealing their space or something.
Funny thing buying a home from someone else.
I wonder when it will actually feel like ours?
I feel like this isn't ours here either now.
Almost like we've been left without a place.
Which is odd b/c this will be the first place that is actually ours.
It's all very surreal.
I still feel like our realtor is going to call us and say, "just kidding, hope you have a place to live b/c this one really isn't yours!"
I've become so comfortable with renting that it is hard for me to get comfortable with the idea of owning.
A home.
B/c right now it's just a place.
That doesn't quite feel like ours.
But in no time I'll be cleaning the tub and planting the perineal flowers.
Well I won't be planting flowers for awhile.
Brennan will spill milk on the carpet.
That is under the kitchen table.
And then it will start to feel like ours.
But right now it just feels like we're leaving our life to go on vacation.
Have mercy.

Where I

On our way to sign the deed to our house I felt excited.
Like we were on our way to have a baby.
Except for the part about the baby.
No heartburn.
Back pain from lifting boxes, not from something sitting on pelvis.
Instead, We got all of the joy without any labor pains.
Now I am standing in my kitchen.
Surrounded by so much clutter and disorder that I want to cry.
I go to start one thing and find myself somewhere else.
I go to organize the desk and I end up packing half of a box from the pantry.
Where I go to find something that will fit in the open box from the pantry.
Where I find a pile of clothes in the hall.
Where I separate into darks and whites.
Put some into the washer.
Where I stand deciding if I want to run one last load of laundry.
So I go out to the kitchen to see if I can throw anything else in the laundry.
Where I see some receipts.
That I add to the pile to calculate in the budget.
Where I remember I was trying to pack a box in the pantry.
And then I hear max cry from the back of the house.
And I want to cry with her b/c I don't know what to put in the box from the pantry.
So I decide to call it quits and finish in the morning, but then I pass the box on the way to the pantry and talk myself into finishing it b/c we are moving.
Like TOMORROW.
And then I'm excited again.
And my skin is crawling from the boxes all around.
And I wonder how the hoarders do it.
Tripping over crap at every turn.
So I think I'll try to pack that box b/c hopefully it will give max time to fall back asleep and maybe it will make something feel more organized.
Does moving always feel this disorganized at the end?
I must have forgotten.
When I see there's some bubblewrap left and have an idea about starting another box...

Shovels, hoses, and mowers

Things I have realized we will need that we don't have:
Towels for 3 bathrooms
Toilet scrubber for 3 bathrooms
Bath mat for 2 bathrooms
2 outside hoses
Lawn mower
Gas for the mower
Rake
Shovel
Snow shovel
Ice melt
Edger
Shower curtains for 2 bathrooms
Soap for 3 bathrooms
...
I wonder what I've forgotten.
Close tomorrow.
Move in Friday.
Somebody pinch me:-)

Go go gadget

This morning I lay in bed listening to max stir in her crib at the foot of my bed.
I imagined myself with an inspector gadget go go gadget arm.
But an invisible one.
That I could extend out, invisibly (this is key), down the bed, into the crib, find the binky, or use eyes on the hand to see if the binky was in, put the binky in if it was out, retract the arm, happily enjoying my warm cozy comforter the entire time.
Where can I order one of those?
Maybe it will be one of oprah's favorite things...
Maybe it could pack boxes too.
I'm gonna be a billionaire.
I'll even have a song about it.
Wait, did someone already write one?
That's so freakin' bad.

Hot wrap job

It's the scout master's 29th birthday.
I have no computer to show you the hot wrapping job I did for his present.
It is back in the shop for the third time.
The computer.
Not the hot wrapping job.
After this they tell me I get a refund if they can't fix it.
I'm 50/50 on if I want them to fix it.
Heidi is here packing up my kitchen.
Bless her.
I wrapped the scout master's present with packing paper.
Dinner is on paper plates with plastic forks.
We survived our road trip to chico with both kids.
The first 6 hours we said "why don't we do this more often?! This is awesome."
The last two hours we were saying we'd never drive ever again.
I do love my cc bill though.
Second star to the right and straight on 'til Thursday.
I've never been so exciting about paying for utilities in my life.