Guys…gals-my life has been a complete and utter circus the past few weeks…maybe it has been months. I honestly can’t keep track anymore. Anyways, in other news….I live with my inlaws.
We sold our little house that we turned into a home over the holidays. I will advise anyone out there considering selling DO NOT SELL YOUR HOUSE OVER THE HOLIDAYS. I honestly don’t know how I came out of that alive. We accepted an offer on our house the week of Thanksgiving then had to be out 3 days after Christmas. Our Christmas decor was pretty sub par this year, we had a tree and beautiful boxes all tied up in string…wait, no I am not Fräulein Maria and this is not Sound of Music. We had a tree with a burnt out section of lights because Martha Stewart apparently wasn’t overseeing the tree production while she was locked up in an orange jumpsuit and we had brown boxes tied up with packing tape and 5 year old scribble all over the sides. Merry Christmas! (note: I had to google the spelling of Fräulein, turns out there is an entire bike tour .
Back to living with my inlaws. So I think shared with y’all that we are building a new home on some acreage and we call it “the farm”.
Well the farm is not quite done yet so in the interim we are living with my husband’s parents. It is very humbling to move back in with parents/inlaws after 7 and a half years of marriage. Pepper in two kids and two pugs and you have the recipe for shit soup. The first week we were here my car battery died, our little man dumped an entire (mega) container of oatmeal on the floor, our pugs refused sleep and howled excessively and there were about 20+ other things that I can’t remember right now but I know I said “What is my life?” Little man’s face sums up my mood the first week after the move.
I have to remember to put clothes on every morning since I sleep in just a shirt usually. Apparently I am gaining a sense of privacy/modesty back since I have to be aware of my surroundings now. Most days I go to the bathroom with an audience, so remembering to shut doors and put a bra on are the top of my to do list again.
Three weeks in, we are starting to get a sense of normalcy and a daily routine. The calm after the shit storm if you will. The pugs are no longer howling at night, but somehow we have both kids in bed with us 99% of the time. Change is tough, especially for our littles. We are getting there. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t cry excessively the first week we moved in here. (no offense T&J) I miss our little house and the memories there, but we will make new ones at the farm. I am remembering a bra, trying to clean up the hurricane that follows my children everywhere and enjoying the memories that the kids get to make with their grandparents for a few weeks until we get to move into the new house.