Have I mentioned that it’s a terrible idea to buy a house in your third trimester of pregnancy? Yes? Well I mean it. I really, really, really mean it. More than I ever meant it when I said it before. This should be on the list of things not to do while pregnant alongside medium rare steak, eggs over easy, and martinis. All three of which I could really use right about now. Along with a nap. And a bottle of Tylenol. And some antacids.
I have lived in rentals for the past 15 years. The thing with rentals is that when you move into them, they are spotless. Everything is clean and all you generally have to do is move in and get settled. This is not the case with a house that has just been vacated by sellers. There’s no requirement that they clean their layers of dirt from the place when they leave. That’s all up to the buyer. And let me tell you—we have some dirt to manage before we move our furniture in and start sleeping there tomorrow.
Poor Catch scrubbed ALL DAY yesterday. I scrubbed off and on for a while in between demands from one person or another that I sit down and rest. Unfortunately, the only chair we had over there yesterday was one of our camping chairs, and it required about as much effort to get OUT of that damn chair as it did to wash the 5 layers of dirt covering the blinds in the laundry room.
Thank goodness we have help. Granted the help comes with strings attached, but I’m in no position to turn down any form of assistance at this point even if it does result in conversations like this:
Mom: When are you having a locksmith out to change the locks?
Me: We’re not.
Mom: Yes you are.
Me: No, we’re not.
Mom: Yes you are.
Me: It’s not a priority right this second. We have a security system. We will change the locks eventually, but we have enough to deal with right now.
Mom: You are changing the locks.
424 unbudgeted dollars later, all eleven (!) freaking locks have been changed or else I would STILL be having this conversation with my mother. She even brought it up at a graduation party last weekend so my COUSINS could chime in and the three of them could gang up on me and tell me how crazy I am for not changing all of the locks first thing. Holy hell, people. I have lived in rentals all of my adult life—how many people have had the keys to all of the other places I’ve lived? Sheesh.
BUT, she did spend yesterday afternoon scrubbing several years of kitchen dirt/grime off of the kitchen cabinets in such a meticulous manner that I have a new understanding as to why she’s had a housekeeper for 20 years. It would take her 3 years to clean the whole house otherwise.
Also, the fridge I ordered is an inch too tall. I measured the width, but the height didn’t even occur to me. This is why you don’t let absent-minded pregnant ladies handle big decisions. ONE INCH. Shoot me. The fridge is being delivered this afternoon and we’re determined to make it work somehow.
Bitching, moaning, achiness and exhaustion aside… I put paint samples on the wall of our baby’s room yesterday. OUR BABY’S ROOM. IN OUR HOUSE.
(Kind of hard to tell, but the room is lavender right now. We’re going to paint it a warm-ish shade of grey. We decided on the last one – Glidden Sutton Place Grey, in case you’re curious. This picture really doesn’t do the colors any justice.)