Settle down!

Blog! I've missed you! How have you been?

Okay, so we're mostly settled in here at our new casa. Internet, at least. Most of our boxes are unpacked and it feels like home. Still need to get pictures up on the walls. And then decorating for real. It's the busy season at work, though, so it's going to be a slow process. One room at a time, I think. Probably will be easier on our budget that way, too. But anyway, I am loving loving LOVING our house and our neighborhood. It all feels very comfortable and happy and RIGHT. Tycho and Kyle and the kitties are all adjusting awesome, too. We definitely know that we made the right choice.

Still, things are a little crazy, so pictures lately have been pretty much instagram-only, so I don't have a lot to share right now. But, cute baby to tide you over:

More content soon, I swear!

Sick & Tired

Oh hi blog. We're still not quite settled in our new space. Actually, that's not true. Not quite makes it sound like we're almost in, but really we're not even close. Neither of us have been able to take extra time off of work and I got ill and the baby is needy and nothing is getting done and we're still living in a box jungle.

This past week has been really rough on the mama front for me, too. You know, on top of that whole moving thing. Tycho of course ends up cutting one of his canines right as we are moving in. Some girlfriends warned me that canines are the worst, and they weren't kidding. I swear, it was like 36 hours of near-constant screeching. And nursing and nursing and nursing and nursing. No food, just milk. Which was okay, if annoying, until I got sick, and now I am barely dealing.

A bug was going around at work, and when I started dry-heaving in the shower yesterday morning I knew I hadn't managed to avoid it. And why I was so damn tired the night before. I am lethargic and head-achey and dehydrated and weak and pathetic and I DO NOT WANT TO NURSE YOU AGAIN, CHILD.

Tycho FINALLY caught on to the "milk" sign, and he's been asking to nurse constantly and I want to give him positive reinforcement, but sometimes I have just nothing left to give and I tell him no and he screams and flails and bangs his head on the floor and I give in and let him nurse while I sob because I am sick and exhausted and he is draining me of all of my energy.

I want to be done. I don't really want to be done. I don't know what I want. This is hard.



Anyway. We still don't have real internet at the new house. I am on some freaky free wifi that is probably stealing my soul and/or sensitive information. So expect sporadic posting for a while longer.

Busy

I swear I don't mean to be an asshole and never post, but like, life, man. We truly are very busy right now. It's September, which in the alternate universe that is fashion retail means the holiday season has begun! Are you ready for woolen mittens and down jackets? As such, I've been working crazy overnight hours this week. And next week.

Tomorrow, or later today I guess, we are signing on our new house! I barely want think about it because I have too many emotions about it and while I am stupid excited I also am terrified and I feel so unprepared. Movers are coming Wednesday and I haven't packed a single thing. No idea how we're going to get everything done, but we will figure it out. I am a ball of anxiety about this, but I know this is going to be so good for our family.

The next month is going to be crazy, but hopefully I'll have some updates of substance soon. At the very least, new house pictures!

Up to here

Yesterday was a hard day.

It started early. I woke up just before 5am from a terrible nightmare in which I couldn't warn my husband that he and our baby were about to be drowned by a nefarious evildoer because someone reprogrammed his number in my cellphone to one that called a nursing home. It sounds completely ridiculous now, but I awoke in a panic, and every time I closed my eyes I would see it again, so I ended up just laying in bed crying for a while.

But then I got up and decided to compulsively scrub my bathroom for a couple hours. Me. Bathroom cleaning. At five o'clock in the morning. Very strange.

It was also very depressing for me, because good god is our house crappy. Two hours of cleaning and the best I could get it to look is dingy.  It's funny, because I am so not a cleaner, and tidy but dingy is normally quite alright with me. But not anymore, I guess. Perhaps nesting has set in after all. But what more could I do? So I took a shower.

Freshly clean with my clean towels in my clean bathroom I am rubbing body oil into my belly to keep it from itching, and the hand towel bar above the counter that is really only very precariously balanced there rather than actually being affixed to the wall spontaneously falls and knocks my bottle of oil everywhere and into my drawer full of hair care implements and I. Just. Lose it.

I sat down, naked and wet, on the edge of the tub, bawling so loud that I woke Kyle in the bedroom, across the hallway through closed doors. So loud that he actually decided to get up and investigate instead of ignoring it and going back to sleep. Which, if you know Kyle, means I was really fucking loud. And I couldn't tell him what was wrong because I could catch my breath between sobs and I couldn't stop crying. Finally, when he got me back to bed, all I could manage was "WE HAVE TO MOVE RIGHT NOW." He assured me that we will move and it will be okay and he would fix the stupid towel rack and I was hysterical because "the lease isn't up until August! I can't put a baby in that bathtub! We can't live here!" Insane.

So yeah. I managed to do a load of laundry, completely scrub my bathroom, take a shower, and have a nervous breakdown all before 8am. And then I had a full day of work ahead of me. Needless to say, I wasn't completely on my A-game. In fact, I felt on the edge of tears for most of the day. My girlfriends have assured me that losing one's shit over something inane like the wrong kind of chicken during pregnancy is totally 100% normal, so I feel a little better. I still don't feel good about our home or how we're going to be able to move when we are scheduled to have a two-week old baby or how we'll be able to afford a place any nicer than the one where we currently reside, but Kyle said he'd worry about it for me, and it seems like I'm better off right now letting him take that responsibility.

This morning brings better news. My sister booked her tickets home from France for the summer, and she'll be back in Seattle on my due date!  And her French boyfriend will be joining her a month later. Now I have two things to look forward to.

Almost Home

Hello Internets!

Husband and I are moved in to our new place and we got our internet and TV reconnected today. We're still living in a sea of cardboard boxes, although I'm making a dent in them, slowly but surely, and I'm really starting to feel like this is home.  There have been a couple issues regarding sinks leaking and that we forgot to check to see if there was a dishwasher before signing the lease, and other such things, but we are working on fixing and/or accepting these things.

There is some big (not baby) news here in the Science Experiments household, but I've given myself a deadline of Thursday to be 100% unpacked and put away and pictures and curtains hanging on the walls, so it'll have to wait a couple of days until we are more settled. Soon.

Movement

I have a love hate relationship with moving. In the last six years I have moved eight times. Some of those times were uncomplicated in-and-out of dorm room type things, but also included was moving both mine and Husband's apartments into our new place just before our wedding. Without his help because he was having his birthday/bachelor party.  Mmhmm.

Recently I have been moving every time my least has been up. It isn't always something I can avoid. Moving in with my new husband was important, and there's not so much you can do when one of your roommates completely loses her mind and moves to South Carolina and you can't really afford the whole place with just three people.

And here we are again. Our lease is up this month, and our roommate decided he wants to move out and live alone for the first time in a long time, and more power to him. But that means we have to leave too.  Which is very sad, because I love our place and it would be perfect for a small family with a baby or two, but if we could afford this whole place on our own we wouldn't have been living with roommates for the last two years. And good god do I ever hate searching for rentals. I'm beyond over crappy apartments with crappy beige walls and crappy carpeting and crappy Formica kitchen counters surrounding crappy stove tops and crappy tiny stackable washer/dryer--if they even have laundry at all. Not to mention the crappy teeny weeny bedrooms that barely fit my king size mattress, much less any of my clothing. And ever these crappy places are barely within my crappy budget. Or they won't allow pets. It's too bad I would lose my mind living in a cheaper city.

Still, we have things to look forward to. This will be the first time Husband and I have lived alone since we broke up in 2007, and certainly since we've been married. I have really enjoyed having roommates, but I'm excited for us to really start creating our own family. And I love the purging of stuff that comes along with moving. I've always been a saver, but in the last few years I've been fighting against my impulses to save things that I maybe might need some day. I'm only planning to move the stuff that we really need or want with us, and start off again fresh. I'm excited to redecorate. We have had the same horrible beige IKEA couch since Husband moved to Seattle, and it is ugly and lumpy and has been spilled upon and stained and torn up be cats. It'll probably have to come with us, but I plan to replace it as soon as possible.

We looked at a place the other night and I am in love. It's imperfect, of course, but it has all the intangibles that make me happy, and anyone who knows me knows that my living space can greatly affect my mood. Husband picked up the application documents today... My heart is in my teeth and I am so anxious to apply and be accepted and pay our deposit and get to packing and I fear something will go horribly wrong even though there is no reason for me to think that. At the same time I have already completely planned where all of the furniture will go and what coffee table I am going to buy (this one, if you're interested), and I'm already plotting what sort of baked goods I will bring when I introduce myself to my new neighbors with a beautiful baby... I always get like this when I move. Or when I plan anything. I am a daydreamer, for sure. Please cross your fingers for me. I promise if good things happen for us I will post a zillion pictures and a detailed description and what-have-you, but right now I feel like putting my ridiculous plans into words might jinx it.