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December, I'm a Little Afraid of You

The state of my kitchen at 38.5 weeks pregnant. Oh dear.

Somehow, at 38 weeks pregnant, I seem to have taken on a big ol’ new job. I thought the first week of December might bring my new role as mother of two, but that’s hasn’t happened yet. So that’s not the new position I’m talking about.

Several months ago, my husband and I decided it was probably time to buy a house—a step I’ve been very apprehensive about. But given an unimpressive and pricey rental market in our neck of the woods, we decided making the big purchase might be the best move for our growing family.

After touring our new city time and time and time again, and looking at handfuls of homes, we finally found one we thought would work for us. We had our fingers crossed that we might have keys in our hands in early October. Instead, we didn’t get them until a couple weeks ago. And here I am, 38.5 weeks pregnant with a rather large project on my hands that has nothing to with mother(of two)hood. At least not directly.

How do I avoid a stress out?

Rather, I seem to have taken over the huge task that is remodeling a 25-year-old home. Since we’ve never lived in anything larger than a two bedroom apartment, I’m thrilled about all the room we’ll have—not to mention a backyard—but I’m completely overwhelmed by the amount of work and all the decisions to be made. It doesn’t help that I’m extremely particular and don’t make my mind up quickly. And when I do, I’m likely to change it.

We can stay in our current rental through the end of December, but then we’ll need to move into the “new” place … which is currently somewhat unlivable. The bright spot in our month is, of course, the pending arrival of our baby girl. But along with the remodel and the new babe, December is also bringing oral surgery for my husband, the holiday hoopla, and as I mentioned, another move. (We just moved two months ago. Yes, we are crazy people.)

Today, I am putting on my game face. I am looking this yellow house square in the face and telling it, “I OWN you.” (Because I do. Well, kind of.) And I’m looking at my belly and telling this baby girl, “Be good to me. I promise to be good to you.” And I’m looking at all the boxes in my garage and thinking, “You’re just boxes filled with stuff that need to be moved pretty soon.”And I’m looking at my husband and thinking, “It’s a good thing we like each other so much.”

And also, I’m looking at my glorious, selfless mother, fresh off the plane, and thinking over and over again, “What would I ever do without you?”

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