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Archive for January, 2014

Recently I’ve been wondering where the time has gone.

There were times when it felt like it was taking forever to get pregnant in the first place.

And then, once we found out we were, that first trimester of not making it public seemed to drag on and on. How do you sit on a secret that big?

Then I hit the second trimester, regained some energy, started showing, and found out that the little tumbler inside my belly is a boy. Everything became a little more real, and even more exciting.

But now we have about 11 weeks left, and I’ve entered the freak-out stage.

I’m still excited, don’t get me wrong, but I’m also keenly aware that I will have a human coming out of my body just a little bit later this year. And I (and Husband) will be responsible for his life.

And, as I said to a friend who has two beautiful little girls, despite all my confidence and experience caring for other people’s children, all of a sudden I’m terrified that I’ll do it wrong with my own.

She assured me that babies are tough to mess up, and that parenting is a process, but still I worry.

  • I worry about breastfeeding (especially after reading this article).
  • I worry about having the “right” bottles or diapers or swaddling blankets – none of which I can test out before he gets here.
  • I worry about knowing how to take care of him and making sure we get him to all the appropriate check-ups and appointments.
  • I worry about becoming so sleep-deprived that I can’t focus on conversations, or so consumed that I can’t talk about anything else (kind of like I’m doing now).

I worry about many, many things, and then I worry about more.

But at the end of the conversation, Mom-friend said this:

You just have to come to terms with the fact that something is going to have to give. Your house might not be clean, you might not have clean underwear, and you might have stale bread – but you will have a happy home filled with people you love and so the rest doesn’t matter.

So, for the next 11 weeks, I will attempt to commit that to memory, and try to breathe and stay calm.

And I will also buy extra underwear. Just in case.

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The past few days have really tested our homeownership abilities.

  • Saturday morning, we found that no water was coming out of the hot water tap in the kitchen. Cold water was flowing fine, and there was hot water in the rest of the house, so we were really only surprised, not concerned. (Plus, hot water came back later that afternoon. Crisis averted!)
  • Saturday evening, the baking element in the electric oven caught on fire, right at the tail end of cooking dinner. We turned off the oven, turned off the breakers, and waited for it to die out. And then we saw that the fire had burned right through the coil, so the oven was out of commission until we could replace it (which Husband did very handily on Monday).
  • Monday evening, we discovered that the dishwasher was somehow clogged. There were several inches of standing water in the bottom, and despite Husband taking all the necessary pieces out and suctioning up all the water, there was no obvious blockage.
  • Which leads me to Tuesday morning, when we discovered that the kitchen pipes were both completely frozen – and still are.

We (and by we, I mean Husband again) have insulated the pipes, but the insulation appears to be no match for the frigid temperatures in the area. And friends have suggested that the frozen kitchen pipes are also what’s causing the dishwasher clog.

It’s like a two-for-one deal that you never actually wanted.

But the good news is that we can still cook in the kitchen. The oven is fixed and fine, and there have been no fires since Saturday. (Knock on wood.)

The bad news is that we can’t clean anything, unless we fill up buckets with water from the bathroom sink and cart them in.

And through all of these things, I’m very aware that our issues could be much much worse. But I’m still left thinking, who in the hell let us buy a house?

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