Our truck arrived today; the last thing of all our stuff. We are officially done relocating.
Now, on to unpacking...
I had a terrible feeling today, as I emptied box after box full of crap that hadn't even been emptied from the previous move, that a year from now I would still be living out of boxes. It is such slow going...made slower still by a teething, clingy, crying baby. I've found he's happy in his sling, which, I suppose, is better than nothing as I inch forward, get side-tracked by a weed that NEEDS to be pulled, reign myself back. Then there's life...
I spoke with my friend Lara today who is expecting a baby in a month and singlehandedly moving, unpacking and redecorating her new place. She's at wallpapering.
I want to be at wallpapering.
I have moments where I'm fine with my progress, then I start to panic that I'm not doing enough. I really do have alot to do...but then, if I were happy with how things already are (our violet bedroom, the pink bathroom, the god awful light fixtures, the morning glory everywhere and the disjointed garden) then I suppose I would be complaining that I was bored.
Well, I'm definitely not bored...tired but not bored. I only wish I had 2 of me so that one of me could spend entire days gardening and getting things done.
Actually, no. I'd want us both to do that together. Now THAT would be fun.
We'd get the grandparents to babysit.
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