So after four months of obsessively looking at house rental websites, booking viewings, mulling over the properties we viewed, and inevitably saying no to ALL OF THEM, we finally decided on a house!
It's like this giant leap forward in our living arrangements. The number of bedrooms stays the same, but there is more living space. Seperate rooms for different things, instead of one big room for everything! A garage to store our junk in! A driveway for our car (ie, no more fighting for parking in front of the house)! A utility room! Holy moly, a UTILITY ROOM. I will no longer have a washing machine in the kitchen, and I will have a place to store laundry during all its phases of existence (dirty - washing - drying - clean - folded) and eventually, I will have a TUMBLE DRIER, OH YES. But probably not until next winter. I am okay with waiting.
We are moving four days after Christmas. I know. Clearly, we have a busy month ahead of us. Packing, preparing for festivities (like, whipping up a few costumes for the church party! NO PROBLEM), planning a birthday party (my three year old is having an early party this year because we are moving so close to the actual date -- she turns four on the 27th -- not the best planning on our part, but what can you do), making Christmas dinner and meeting up with family in the days before we get the keys...
I fear my head might pop off with all the stress. In addition, last week we had a cold snap with icy footpaths, and I slipped on the ice, spraining my bad ankle pretty badly. It was enough to prevent me from walking the kids to school the next day, and earlier this week I kept my three year old home from nursery because while I could manage the walk twice in one day, three times in one day was just too much. I had a brainwave yesterday, though, and realised that instead of walking home after dropping her off, I could just take the baby to the playgroup next door. So I did. I have gotten very little done this week, and when I try to forge ahead in spite of my injury, I sure do feel it later. So I rest when I can.
Oh! And in addition to the relentless marching of time that is against our favour, my incapacitation and the looming holiday season, my husband is incredibly busy at work and will need to do overtime at the weekends here and there. So we won't see him on Saturdays, either! Did I mention that we only have the one car, and he needs it to get to work?
I'll be FINE. LALALA.