We are back, finally connected to the world again. The break from all technology (minus our cell phones and our house hold appliances) has been great and refreshing, though I can't claim to have accomplished anything great. Because it seems like I have just been walking in circles for the past week we have been in this home. Or wait, has it been a week? I actually don't even know what day of the week is.
I finally unpacked the last of the boxes yesterday and everything is relatively put away to their rooms or piles. I mean we are talking piles galore up in here and all I can do is roam from one pile to the next and then get distracted by another without ever really putting anything away. There is just so much to do to make everyone feel at home. And George and I have told each other, "Just add it to the list," more times than I would like to admit. Its kind of the theme around here, to just put it some where, anywhere, on the list, just to get it out of sight and mind so we can deal with it all.
We did get the most important room of the house put away though, thedining room play room, so the little ones can keep busy while I make every attempt to get busy.
I guess it's okay to be real with myself and admit that is all just a bit much. Our 660 square foot condo is like my security blanket that someone just abruptly took away from me. I just can't stop thinking about it. I could clean the entire place, top to bottom (bathroom and floors included) in a little less than an hour. And all members of the family were in talking distance and in sight with as little as a lean in either direction. It was enough. And now George is back to work and I just feel like I am wondering around someone else's house. I'm exhausted from cleaning just a few bathrooms probably due to the circles I walk in the trek from one room to the next in attempts get ahead while maintaining the current mess we've made.
My Google search bar has been blowing up with things like, "Wtf is a convection oven?", "What is that beeping sound?", and "Why is my fridge asking me what temp I want my water? Cold, I want it cold." I had to ask our perfect neighbor wife how to mop wood floors the other day because I don't know these types of things and I am sure she could see right through my small condo mind. And then my high tech washer said, "Hi" to me this morning and programmed the temperatures for the clothes I was washing. Which I am thankful for because I am used scrambling for quarters, playing laundry mat politics, and doing my best not to have the laundry mat attendant yell at me, again, rather than learning what temperature things should be washed in. And I am almost positive it was cold water for everyone at that laundry mat, so it wouldn't have mattered anyway.
And Elsa is most definitely messing with me. Her new game is to pick the farthest point away from me in the house to hide in. She remains so quiet in the dark spaces causing me to leave the room and make another long lap around the house in search of her only to find her in the original room behind a door or in a dark closet giggling at me. Aren't kids supposed to be afraid of the dark? But the echos this house produces usually gives her away if she would just make a sound because we have little to fill this place.
And in case you weren't aware, when you do finally decide to give in and give up and test out the new big tub in an attempt to relax, don't continue to add bubble bath when enough bubbles aren't produced because once the jets come on, yeah, it will boil over with bubbles. And your husband might laugh at you because you're trying to act like you know how to soak in a huge tub but you really don't.
So that is what I have been doing, getting aquatinted with this place, the mailbox, the garage, the technology, the ridiculousness and trying not to feel overwhelmed and really trying to convince myself that maybe if I walk in circles long enough, that this place might eventually start to feel like home.
I finally unpacked the last of the boxes yesterday and everything is relatively put away to their rooms or piles. I mean we are talking piles galore up in here and all I can do is roam from one pile to the next and then get distracted by another without ever really putting anything away. There is just so much to do to make everyone feel at home. And George and I have told each other, "Just add it to the list," more times than I would like to admit. Its kind of the theme around here, to just put it some where, anywhere, on the list, just to get it out of sight and mind so we can deal with it all.
We did get the most important room of the house put away though, the
My Google search bar has been blowing up with things like, "Wtf is a convection oven?", "What is that beeping sound?", and "Why is my fridge asking me what temp I want my water? Cold, I want it cold." I had to ask our perfect neighbor wife how to mop wood floors the other day because I don't know these types of things and I am sure she could see right through my small condo mind. And then my high tech washer said, "Hi" to me this morning and programmed the temperatures for the clothes I was washing. Which I am thankful for because I am used scrambling for quarters, playing laundry mat politics, and doing my best not to have the laundry mat attendant yell at me, again, rather than learning what temperature things should be washed in. And I am almost positive it was cold water for everyone at that laundry mat, so it wouldn't have mattered anyway.
And Elsa is most definitely messing with me. Her new game is to pick the farthest point away from me in the house to hide in. She remains so quiet in the dark spaces causing me to leave the room and make another long lap around the house in search of her only to find her in the original room behind a door or in a dark closet giggling at me. Aren't kids supposed to be afraid of the dark? But the echos this house produces usually gives her away if she would just make a sound because we have little to fill this place.
And in case you weren't aware, when you do finally decide to give in and give up and test out the new big tub in an attempt to relax, don't continue to add bubble bath when enough bubbles aren't produced because once the jets come on, yeah, it will boil over with bubbles. And your husband might laugh at you because you're trying to act like you know how to soak in a huge tub but you really don't.
So that is what I have been doing, getting aquatinted with this place, the mailbox, the garage, the technology, the ridiculousness and trying not to feel overwhelmed and really trying to convince myself that maybe if I walk in circles long enough, that this place might eventually start to feel like home.
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