Me, Myself and Mommy

SoOOooo. Where should I begin? Hmmm…

OK.

As you know the shower in our master bathroom was broken. For some reason the water wasn’t getting hot. The sink worked just fine but not the shower. We were showering at “the club” (aka the gym, but we have to call it “the club” because Moanna said so) every time we went and we showered in Moanna’s bathroom when we didn’t have an excuse to go “the club.” It’s not really a huge deal to shower across the hall, but our previous house didn’t have a master bathroom. All four of us were sharing a bathroom (Steve, Moanna, Josh and moi), so Steve and I were really excited to have our very own child free and brother free bathroom.

Yesterday evening when I got home from grocery shopping to restock our fridge and move on with life (I swear if that thing breaks again someone owes me $175 and some change) Steve came downstairs to help me get the groceries in. After we were done lugging everything in, he stayed with me in the kitchen to chat while I was putting everything away.

“I fixed the shower.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that?”

“That’s not important.”

“No really, how did you fix it?”

“Aren’t you excited?”

“You ‘fixed it’ by turning the dial the opposite direction didn’t you?”

“I told you I fixed the shower.”

“Tell me what you did.”

“Well the plumber called to say he would come by tomorrow. I told him I wanted to check on a few things first and call him back. I went into the bathroom checked some stuff out and fixed it.”

“Hahahahahahaha.”

“I don’t want to hear it. You never tried to fix it.”

“You know, every time I sat down to go pee and looked at that shower I thought, I wonder if Steve tried turning the dial both directions or if he turned it to hot and left it at that? I should check and see because sometimes common sense escapes him. No, no, he’s smarter than that; I’m sure he tried both directions. I didn’t check it because I  had faith in you. This is too funny.”

“Shut up.”

“The internet WILL be hearing about this tomorrow.”

“Oh, that I am sure of.”

There you have it folks. You can’t make this kind of stuff up. My heroic husband “fixed” the shower. Bless his heart.

Since we’re in the Deep South now I felt that a “bless his heart” was in order. It makes me chuckle every time I hear someone say it.

For the past month or more my life has revolved around relocating to Georgia. It has been leases, boxing, taping and utility setup nonstop. Somehow in the middle of all this craze we were able to take a weekend and go to the beach.

I swear, if I didn’t go to yoga this morning I would be going Jack Bauer on people right now! I’m ready to pick someone up by the collar, slam them against the wall and menacingly whisper, “If you do not do exactly what I tell you to do, I will see to it that all of your stained underwear is displayed where you work.” Staying up late watching 24 every night might be turning me into a violent person. I don’t know. It could also be the fact that we’ve been in the new house for two weeks and instead of things getting resolved more issues are popping up. Then again, it could just be PMS.

I’m usually a go-with-the-flow-kind-of-gal, but I have had it up to  here.

Complaint 1 – After a week, the gas was finally turned on. I still don’t understand how it takes a week for someone to come turn a knob and flip a switch so I can take a hot shower and cook food, but whatever. We patiently waited for the hot water tank to fill and Steve went to go take a shower only to find that the shower in the master bath was not getting hot water; it was ice cold. Thankfully Moanna’s shower has hot water.

Complaint 2 – We are still high jacking internet from our neighbors (with their permission – they gave us a password). The internet company said we were good to go, and sent us our modem/router. When the modem arrived Steve plugged everything up and nothing happened. No internet. Steve called the internet company and after nearly two hours of getting the runaround, getting disconnected and speaking to people named “Princess” and “Shaquitta” all in the same phone call we were told that we would have to wait 3 business days for someone to come “build a port in our neighborhood so we could get the good high-speed internet; you know the kind is needed when you work from home. That was on Thursday morning and we’re still waiting. If we do not have internet by COB tomorrow the internet company will find their dirty underwear hanging from phone lines around the Atlanta area.

Complaint 3 – My fridge is not cold. Freezer is just fine, but the butter in my fridge is soft. I will be throwing away about $40 worth of food that is no longer safe to eat. The fridge better be glad I didn’t pitch a fit and buy a crap tone of food and condiments when I went shopping last week.  I have nothing to cook for dinner. I was planning on shopping today to restock for the week, but I can’t.

Complaint 4 – Moanna and I were going to go to the pool today after I went to yoga. After yoga class, I took a shower, shaved (shaved th bikini region), put on my swim suit and pick up Mo from the kids’ center at the gym. When I asked her if she was ready to go swimming she said, “No. I want to go home. I don’t want to go swimming.” I went through all of that for nothing? I have razor burn for you kid, and you don’t even want to go to the pool?

From the outside looking in this may not seem like much, but I am mad as hell today. Filled with a rage that I can’t explain. I’m usually not this negative and don’t complain this much (really, I don’t). However, I have a cold shower, internet equivalent to dial-up, a warm fridge and razor burn. This is not my happy face people.

Folks, we are making progress! I have proof.

Moanna’s Room – Notice the pink. We have finally converted Mo’s crib into a toddler bed – no railing! Moanna and I put all of her books on her shelf, put her lamp together, and hung up these cute butterflies. I spent a good half an hour trying to hang up these butterflies, and they still are not spaced out evenly.

Moanna’s Bathroom/Guest Bathroom – Notice the pink. Despite my best efforts Moanna is obsessed with pink. I’m done fighting it, and have decided to embrace it. We have a pink rug, pink shower curtain, pink trash can, pink toothbrush holder, pink soap dispensers, pink, pink and more pink.

The Kitchen (left side) – Notice the bonsai tree; he made it here safely and I am happy to report has new leaves sprouting. You can’t see it from this picture, but every single cabinet is packed full. I’m talking to the brim. As you can see there is very little cabinet space and therefore very little counter space. Also, if you look above the fridge and squint, you can see plastic wrap and storage bags this is due to the fact that I have a total of 3 (THREE) drawer in my kitchen.

The Kitchen (right side) – Notice the stove; it’s a gas stove and as of 8:00AM (we were woken up by the gas company pounding on our door to start our gas service) it works. Now, I just have to learn how to cook on the darn thing. Again, as you can see the counter, cabinet and drawer space is lacking.

The Pantry (the teeny-tiny pantry) – Notice that it’s full. This is not because I went out grocery shopping. This is the food that we brought with us from Virginia. We gave a good 75% of our pantry food away before we left VA, and I still have a tote full of baking supplies that I have no home for. When I opened this door, I almost cried. When I opened this door, I was 100% convinced that a bachelor who lives off of frozen dinners designed this kitchen. I was already 95% convinced by looking at the rest of the kitchen, but this pushed me over the edge. I can’t fit a weeks worth of groceries in here, and forget about long term food storage.

The Nook – Notice it’s empty. At first glance, this may not look like progress, but believe me it is. All of the stuff that now fills my cabinets used to be packed in boxes filling this nook. Since I have no counter space, no drawers and no storage, I need something to fill this space that will give me all three. We’ve looked at a few options, but so far nothing really jumps out at me. Any suggestions?

Three rooms down, we’re less than half way done. It’s fair to say that we’re less than 25% done. Stay tuned.

Hello world! A friend sent me a text this morning and it said, “Are you alive?” I took it as a hint that you too might want to know if we made it to the land of Atlanta. We made it to Atlanta late Wednesday night, and yes I am alive – just barely, but I’m alive. We are far from “settled” (I don’t even know what that means), I am currently high-jacking internet from the neighbors and it takes a flipping century to get gas hooked up in these parts so we’ve spent the entire week without hot water or the ability to cook. That aside, the bonsai tree made it, and I remembered to pack toilet paper in my “Open This First Box” (although I did have to drip dry once because I left it in the car), and the traffic, well I haven’t had a need to venture more than five miles away from my home, so I’ll have to get back to you on that one. There is so much I can’t wait to tell you about because once I’m done crying about it all, it’s actually quite hilarious. For now, I thought we should adventure back to how this whole thing started, starting with why we moved. It goes all the way back to a very brutal winter in Virginia.

__________

When we moved back to my hometown after college, we always knew it would be a temporary stop. I was very pregnant at the time, and we needed to get a good grasp on the world around us before heading off to unchartered territory as adults and as young parents. After Moanna turned two, we started to get antsy, and began to really investigate our options outside of our tiny town. Steve was ready to advance in his career and I was very much over failing at balancing work and motherhood and the rest of my life. We prayed and we searched, and we prayed and we searched for opportunities to allow us to move onto the next phase of our lives.
Just a few months after returning to a job that Steve loved and had really missed over the past several years, he was up for a promotion. A promotion that would send us to Atlanta, Georgia. A promotion that could potentially provide enough income that I would finally be able to be a stay at home mom. I was beginning to get physically ill knowing that my family was not being taken care of as I worked 10-14 hour days. It was a wonderful opportunity for us. We agreed that if Steve were ultimately offered the position, he would accept and we would truck ourselves to the Deep South and start the next chapter.
To be honest with you, I was not 100% convinced that Steve would get the job. Of course, I believed in him, but he was just returning to the company. I also assumed that since the job didn’t begin until May (which was more than six months away at the time) we would have plenty of time to mull things over.
It was a bitter cold winter day in Virginia. My body was aching more than usual, an ache that penetrates deep into the bones. I was happy to be leaving work at a reasonable hour. As I was driving home, I was day dreaming about talking to Steve for a bit and then getting into my jammie-clothes and zoning out on the couch for awhile.
Steve was in the living room doing some paper work on the coffee table when I walked in the house.

“Hey babe. How was your day?”

“Eh, it was OK. How about you? How was your talk with the guy in Georgia?”

“Not bad. We talked about the responsibilities of the job, and some other stuff, but he was driving and kept loosing service. We’re going to talk more later tonight.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“Hey, we should go out on a date.”

“Ugh, I don’t feel like going anywhere. It’s freezing out there, and I just want to rest.”

“Come on. Mo’s not here and you got on me the other week for not taking you out in a long time. We may not have another night together for awhile.”

“Fine.”

Fast forward to dinner…

“So tell me more about the position in Georgia. What all did the guy have to say?”

“Well, we mostly talked about the job responsibilities and the territory.”

“Yeah.”

“And then we got into talk about what neighborhoods were best to live in because he offered me the job and I accepted!”

“What!?”

“Isn’t that great!”

“What!?”

“Aren’t you happy?”

“I think I’m going to throw up…”

“Is that because you’re excited or you want to punch me? Because, right now, I can’t tell.”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

**It is important to note that the restaurant we went that night is tiny. It’s a small tapas restaurant and no matter where you are seated everyone else can see you and hear your conversations.**

“This is what you wanted right?”

“Yes, I guess. I thought that we wouldn’t know either way for a couple of months and that we would be able to talk it over before you accepted.”

“He made the offer and I accepted because we already knew that if I was given the opportunity we would take it. Plus this gives us more time to plan.”

“I guess so, but I’m mostly pissed that you ruined my dinner with your good news. Good news or bad, food does not need a side of life changing news.”

“I didn’t realize that telling you that our prayers had been answered would make you lose your appetite.”

“Do I need to remind you that I warned you about proposing in a restaurant? I told you that if you proposed in a restaurant I would say NO.”

“Yes… I remember.”

“Don’t ruin my food with your sentiment.”

“I get it! So, are you happy or not?”

“I still haven’t decided.”

I really didn’t know how I felt. I felt a lot of things – too many things to process and verbalize. I needed to get aquatinted with my emotions before I could share them with Steve, or anyone else. I was excited for Steve. I felt betrayed that he didn’t tell me when I asked him about the call when I first got home. I was excited to leave my job. I was so sad to leave my family, friends and the world that I had grown up in. I was thrilled that I would be able to take care of my family and home. I was bitter, that I never had the chance to be a stay-at-home-mom in Buena Vista where we had family and friends to spend time with, and where I could do things with Moanna that I did growing up. I was happy that Steve was finally given the opportunity to provide for his family in a way that would make him happy. I was terrified to be with Moanna all day, everyday; we’ve never done that. I was excited that I would be able to find balance in my life instead of continuing the cycle of crashing and burning. I was sad to leave my job. I was excited for the unknown and the adventure. I was afraid of the unknown and the challenges. I was ready to leave this cold brutal winter. I was really angry that I had lost my appetite.

Mostly though, I was thinking, Holy crap! God does answer prayers! Now what in the hell am I supposed to do? He gave me his side of the bargain, now I actually have to follow through and do and be all of these things I have been asking for. It’s one thing to really want something, and to pray for it daily, but when God answers and gives you everything you want, then what?