My life. Hmm...How would I describe my life in 2 words? It's a stressful mess. Just look at my living room. I'm bursting from the seams here, people! There's no where left to put anything. I've filled every crevice/hole/cubby/dark space in this place. If it was empty, it surely isn't anymore.
ps. That blue lamp will not be going to my new house unless I actually fix it. Every time I see it in the back of a photo I want to throw a baseball at it so I can hear it break.
My body started to show the signs of stress - my neck cracked every time I turned my head. Every. stinkin. time. I woke up every morning thinking about what I needed to do for my house/loan/big move. I was a mess two Sundays ago when we sang one of Zack's favorite hymns in church. It took me a few days to recover from that. I miss him all the more when something big happens. He'll never see my house and it's just another thing I don't get to experience with him. After a good cry, I'm reminded that he was never supposed to see it, I take a deep breath, and I move forward.
Basically, I had a crazy week and I was mentally exhausted. I was tired of being an adult. I needed a break so badly. And then I got one. Charlotte, Frank, and kids were here for the big snow day (that never happened). I came home from work and held little Hannah for an hour straight. We cuddled, she threw up on me, we played peek-a-boo, she laughed, she threw up on me, and we danced when she was crying. She ended our hang out time with one final spit-up and then we said goodbye. Though I could have done without the spit-up, holding Hannah was exactly what I needed.
Who can think about a house or loan or homeowners insurance when you have a baby in your arms?
In all honesty, I haven't started packing because a) I hate packing and b) I'm scared I'll jinx everything. I know it sounds dumb. Allow me to explain my scaredy-catness (not to be confused with Katniss). Once I pack, that's it, I'm all in. All of my hopes will be on this house. Having to unpack would make it even more depressing should something fall through.
On my end, things are great. I've done everything I need to do to buy this home and so has the seller. So why am I so scared? Because I love this home and I've been dreaming about the day when Charlie can go to the bathroom without me. I'm dreaming of driving home from work everyday and parking in my very own garage. I've been dreaming of paint colors and kitchen counters and a craft room. I'm dreaming of walks in the park with my awesome neighbor/sister when she moves home.
I'm buying my dream home at 27. Who gets to do that? It's perfect for me. It needs some love, but everything works fine. I love this house, but I have to remember that it can't love me back.
So this weekend, I'm biting the bullet. I'm starting to pack. We are going to clear out a space in the garage so I can start piling boxes. I won't be packing anything important yet - just photos, frames, decorations, and anything that has been in the cubby for over a year - hopefully that doesn't include spiders.
I'll start the moving process because no matter what happens between now and the 15th, I'll be ready. My brain wants to prepare for the worst and I'll do that by putting my faith in God and his will for my life.
And, btw, I did it! Me, the most immature person in my family (I'm the middle child, what did you expect?). I'm buying a house and I completed all paperwork and responsibilities on time. I stayed on top of my tasks and didn't shy away from anything. So yeah, while I'm really nervous, I'm also going to start celebrating. I'm buying a house, folks! So, cue Two Door Cinema Club and let's get packing!