I have many blog-able thoughts and moments during the course of my day, but I haven't quite figured out when and how to get them all down.
My days are so busy right now. I don't know why. So many of the things that used to take up my time--half-day kindergarten, early morning Seminary, driving along winding, country roads to get anywhere--are no longer part of my routine. I've found a handful of new friends, but my social calendar is still pretty empty.
I guess it's the four kid thing that keeps me hopping. When they're around, they need food and help with homework and (unfortunately) a whole lot of sibling refereeing. When they aren't around, I'm buying their food, washing their clothes and making copies on the Riso machine for their teachers.
And what's taking up the rest of my time? As Dr. Seuss might put it... "Oh the house. Oh the house. Oh the house, house, house, house. That's the one thing she's doing. The house, house, house, house."
New houses are a lot of work. I have to keep reminding myself that Rome wasn't built in a day and that it took years before I was happy with all the paint colors and window treatments in our old place. We went ages without a finished basement and eons before Brad built the back patio. In fact, it was not the house of my dreams at all until we put it on the market last spring.
But, in my old age, I'm a lot less patient. I know how I want things to look. And I want them to look that way. Now. I drive myself a little crazy. Hanging things up, taking things down. Buying things. Returning things. And I'm still learning my way around town, so usually each errand takes twice as long as it should. See? Low-stress and inexpensive and eco-friendly!
Brad has been extremely patient with this whole nesting process. I mean, let's face it. The guy, if left to his own devices, would live in a house with one MASSIVE tv and a lone, comfortable (but hideous) black leather chair. A bed with a mattress so firm it'd need a medical prescription with no designer throw pillows. The walls would all be white without a single nail hole or picture hook to be found. There would be no toile in his world.
So, Babe, this post is dedicated to you and your generosity of spirit (and checkbook). I promise once all the drawer pulls are installed and the curtains hung, I will return to my former low-key, easy-going self. Yes, really.
Also, I promise, more blogging. More often. I miss it.