Yup, I'm resurfacing. It's been almost two months I guess. Two obnoxcious, nutty months. I remember feeling right before we moved that there was light at the end of the tunnel for the stress. Hah. See, we had a difficult seller that we were buying from that was really complicating the overall process... a difficult lender that wouldn't close on a loan with asbestos wrapped pipes... then there was us doing the move mostly on our own to save money... I kept thinking, once all this is behind us it will get easier. But it really hasn't. It just got different. So we made it - got the loan closed, got our trailer empty and belongings in the house with the help of Larry, Darryl and his other brother Darryl, but then reality set in. No fence for weeks, no routine for the kids for weeks... it was pure chaos here. And me working from the turret in the meantime. We finally got going with preschool and daycare... and the kids hate it. Both of them can't seem to transition well. Someone is always crying.
Then there is the house. Our lovely pink Queen Victorian. So far we've had four gas leaks fixed. It's like everything in this house that has anything to do with gas had a gas line installed unprofessionally and not to code. Who spends gobs of money on a fancy kitchen (crazy seller) and neglects something as critical as the things that could blow the house up? But I think we have the gas issues behind us. Now John thinks we have chipmunk issues. He stayed up with croupy Noel last night and heard all sorts of noises that he couldn't tell where they were coming from, in or out. So that's the next project.
I know, I'm sounding very glass half empty. That's me. But if I try to take a step back, it hasn't all been bad. It's great living in a larger house in a nice community. We came from a small city with a growing drug problem and declining property values and now live in a small farming village where everyone knows everyone. It's kind of cute really. Quiet, safe, clean air. Kids had been sleeping so well (until all the separation anxiety set in, and croup) which we attributed to much more outdoor time and better air quality. So I don't regret the move, I just wish we could get our rhythym. I had hoped it would happen by now so I could spend the next few weeks more relaxed prior to the arrival of #4, but I guess for now I just try and cope with a few steps forward and one back. Everyone keeps telling me the kids WILL adjust. The crying and tantrums WILL stop. So I go with it. And at some point the boxes WILL be all unpacked. So I go with the power of positive thinking to whatever degree a pessimist like me can.
And did you notice that it's a week before Cian's 5 year anniversary and I'm only now mentioning it? Pretty good huh. We've certainly had a few awkward moments meeting people. Why is it when you're pregnant everyone must know what number baby it is? I try to answer the question honestly without making the asker feel too mortified. But it gets tricky especially when the questions persist. "So is this your first?" "Nope (smiling)." "Oh, your second." "Nope, we have two little boys at home." "Oh, so this is your third?" "Well, no, actually it's our fourth but our first is no longer with us, we lost him to cancer." Skidmarks.
I will try and post some pics but you know how I am about that, delinquent. Just wanted to say that we're here and we're okay for the most part. It's certainly been nice being out of the city, away from traffic and closer to my family. I just long for the day that I finally say, "we're settled." The last time I felt so very unsettled was when Cian was sick and after his death (which this pales in comparison to of course) but it does take me back to feeling like someone is sitting on my chest/wanting to jump out of my skin. Similar ick, different degree. It's just hard being type A and being trapped in like a type F environment.