Just to finish out the moving out / moving in with my in laws saga… I believe I left us at fixing the ceiling leak on Friday evening. We finally made it to bed sometime after 11 – after the baby’s last (unexpected) wake up. That crashing noise you may have heard around the universe was me hitting the bed (well, air mattress, the bed was long gone by then!). I know that this noise is very loud because it is clearly one of the most annoying noises in the world to my daughter – one of the few noises that was guaranteed to wake her up from a long nap in the early days (you know, the long naps you worry are going to prevent them from sleeping well at night, except, haha the joke is on you because they’re not going to sleep at night anyway? Yeah, those.).
I was dead to the world. For just over 3 hours – till the baby woke up crying at 2:30. I listened to her for a little bit thinking – oh man, I’m so tired, please stop. God I want to just go in there because then she’ll stop in a few minutes, but she’s at an age where I probably shouldn’t do that anymore because she has to learn and… I was midway through these mind boggling (certainly boggling to my mind at 2:30 in the freaking morning!) thoughts when my husband asked if we should do something. I said no. And then… wait, I need more of a drumroll for this comment – AND THEN HE SAID lazy. WHAT?! What?! WHAT?!?!?!?!? I don’t have words. Not at 2:30 I don’t. He has not lived down this comment yet – and likely won’t for some time. I could try explaining to him that it’s actually in a way lazy to go feed her because we have to suffer through the long lesson of tonight to teach her to sleep on her own. Or I could comment on the fact that as soon as I left, he rolled back over to go to sleep while I fed her for half an hour! Yes HALF AN HOUR! No short feed and go back tonight! Of course not. You know we’re moving and sleep deprived and have lots to do tomorrow… Well, maybe I also sort of half fell asleep in the glider so more time may have passed than was strictly necessary. But that was because when I tried to delatch her after the normal amount of time, she was having none of it and cried to be put back! Which is not normal… so maybe she did need me… But whatever, I need to go back to bed and yell at my husband for calling me lazy!
I got her back down about 3:15 and she woke up again around 4. Oh. Well, that’s not normal. Hmm – I wonder if that whole teething thing could be a problem… We gave her some Tylenol and I fed her again and she managed to get back to sleep for a few hours. Not enough hours! But a few hours. Till our day began again.
It started with more cleaning and packing and loading stuff to the car on my part while my father in law came over to help my husband with some electrical issues – you know, plugs that don’t work. Plugs that haven’t worked in the 4 years we’ve lived here… Well, that’s not strictly true. They worked when we got here. But about 3 years ago, my husband tried to fix some and possibly electrocuted himself (just a little bit!) and they haven’t worked since then.
Eventually we hit a wall with what I could do, as my husband needed to do some touch up painting and finally seal the kitchen floor and I didn’t want the baby in the house for the fumes. So I took my Mom and the baby out to see our “maybe” house (if we ever manage to settle on it) and explore a little while he finished up. Baby Sweetness and I came back around 7 and he’d done a ton of little projects in his perfectionist way – finally painted the trim in the bathroom, installed smoke detectors in every room (why does he like the renters so much better than he liked us?), add a new fire extinguisher, etc. – but the floor remained to be sealed. We got some dinner (aside – I’d fed the baby while trying to eat while he ate. I was almost done with mine when he mentioned we really needed to get going – ok, fair, lots to be finished. I took the baby back and got the bill – and he picked up my fork and started to eat the stuff he told me there wasn’t time to finish! I managed to steal my fork back and he said, ok, so we really have to go. Boys!) and got back to condo around 9. The munchkin was not at all happy about being out so much past her bedtime (the drive was mostly screaming and sobbing, but it finally stopped as we got close – so that it was only those sad, pathetic little sobs. You know the ones – I’m so tired from crying, I’m going to stop. There’s no point because no one ever listens to me cry and no one will help me. Yeah, those.). So I left him at the condo and headed over to his parents house to get the baby to bed.
I finally got her to bed, but in a show of solidarity, I tried to stay up to wait for my husband to get home (lazy, my ass!). He got home sometime after midnight. I could barely keep my eyes open. But then he got into bed and – I COULDN’T SLEEP! Ugh. I guess it’s for the best – the baby was up twice in the night.
We got up early so he could finish getting his tools out of the condo and we could do the walk through with the tenants at noon. I was allowed to be there as long as I didn’t volunteer information because, and I quote, I’m too honest. (Great – we’re slumlords.)
And then that was it. Suddenly I realized our home was not ours anymore. And suddenly we both started to feel emotional about that. It wasn’t just the – huh, we have a lot more storage here than I realized that we’d felt in moving (as there was constantly more stuff). Or, huh, this is a nice place – esp. since you did all those last repairs. It was – huh, this is the place where we lived when we first got married. The place we brought our baby home to. And we’re leaving it. And I don’t like that – it’s a bad feeling. It’s like whenever my Mom says she’s going to sell her house and I ask her – my room too? That bad feeling.