The blessed event is upon us, and finally I’m boxing up everything that made this little house our home the past 3 years. It’s bittersweet except no it’s not, I can’t wait to get into a house of our own. It’s been a great lesson in patience and being (mostly) satisfied with what you’ve got, but I am so excited to surrender the title of “renter.”
Also, #neverbeige. Ever again. I bought out the HGTV inspired line of grays and whites and charcoals at Lowe’s this morning in anticipation of a little DIY crash course after the keys are in hand tomorrow afternoon, but before the moving truck pulls up on Saturday morning. My poor husband has no idea what delusions of accomplishment I’m harboring for the 22 interim hours between closing and moving truck arrival.
It feels like the fitting end to a hard, hot summer marked by happy moments but mostly filled with a lot of hurrying-up-and-waiting. My kids are ready to get out of the land of stacked boxes and piled up furniture and back into the enchanted forest of a routine and, for my second born, his first real foray into the classroom.
And I’m excited about that too (which I had the audacity to say on Facebook, much to the consternation of mothers who do not crave separation from their offspring after a 14 week period marked by infectious diseases and real estate foibles.)
What can I say? If this were the animal kingdom, I’d be a mother sea turtle and my children would be autonomously hatching themselves on the beach. Other mothers are kangaroos. It takes an ecosystem.
All this to say, things might be lightish on the blog for the next week while internet is reinvented and reinstalled (y u no can flip magic wifi button remotely, service provider?) and while All The Things are painted. And I can’t wait to share pictures. Here’s a little teaser of our living/dining room space, a “before” shot if there ever was one:
Can you even handle the wood paneling? My heart is quivering in Joanna Gaines-like anticipation.