And if I don’t get the things I am after………

Posted on | July 26, 2010 | 7 Comments

It’s been a nutty couple of weeks and I really appreciate the fact that you didn’t all just go away never to return. (You didn’t, right?) Sorry for all the dour, whiny posts… but I was feeling rather dour and whiny. But now?

Um. Hello? I live at the beach.
Seriously. How can you be unhappy when the view out your window is of a lagoon with ducks? How can you dread going to work when your drive takes you across gorgeous marshland and past shrimp boats? Remind me of all this in a few months when I’m cursing my job, will you?
The one bad thing about all this is J. Well, he’s not bad… but his sleep habits most definitely are. He’s out of control. His naps are no longer on schedule. He’s waking up five and six times a night again. He’s driving me crazy. I know I should be patient and let him get used to things in a new place with new surroundings, but patience is NOT my strong point. I need a child who sleeps and don’t care how, I want it NOW! 
I find that my lack of patience really affects all facets of my life. I’m like a grown-up Veruca Salt. I can’t stand sitting in traffic. I hate waiting for people to return my calls, and I hate, hate, HATE letting anyone else do… well, anything. Seriously. ANYTHING. It drives me crazy. Even if I have no idea how to do something, I’m convinced I can do it faster than whoever is currently doing it. And sometimes it becomes apparent that I actually CAN do things faster than the experts. 
Let me backtrack for a minute. We had fantastic movers. Seriously great guys. They were young and cheap and best of all, efficient. So I packed up my car, loaded in J and my mom and we set out for Savannah around 10:00 in the morning. I left Husband behind to point things out to the movers (mistake number one) and to clean the house (oh God, I’m probably a moron.). 
Quick pop quiz. How many grown men does it take to disassemble a baby’s crib?
Give up? 
So did they. 
Around 11:00 I get a call from Husband. May I remind you that I am half way to Savannah at this point. He calls and says “We can’t get the crib apart. What do we do?”
There is only one answer to that question, y’all. We have an 11 month old. They can NOT leave the crib in Macon. The crib MUST come to Savannah. And I am on the road. I can neither help nor instruct at this point. All I can do is mock. And I did. Because seriously? Four grown men can’t figure out how to take apart a crib? Seriously? 
Needless to say, the crib made it to Savannah. As did Husband. What did NOT make it to Savannah is our patio furniture, our coat rack, almost all of our wall hangings, nothing out of the attic, and the damn vacuum cleaner. And to top it all off, Husband, in a fit of ill-placed kindness, told the movers that WE would put the crib back together. You know, the crib that four grown men couldn’t get apart. The short story though, is that we put it together. 
So we’re almost all unpacked after a series of about seventy-three complete breakdowns on my part and after three days of no sleep and a butt load of caffeine. I don’t know where most of my things are, but besides everything mentioned above, I know it’s all here… somewhere. What I don’t know is what shape my house is in back in Macon. It probably looks like a meth-head broke in with some friends and held a rave. I don’t even want to think about it. I hired cleaners to come on Monday and Husband is headed back on Tuesday to collect the rest of our stuff and to finish cleaning out the refrigerator and freezer. 
It’s my plan to stay far, far away from that house until it sells. For one thing, I can’t stand the fact that I left the house. The first house I ever owned. The house with the nursery I painted when I was 8 months pregnant because I got tired of waiting for Husband to do it. The house with the shelving I stood on the bed and nailed into the wall, again when 8 months pregnant, and then had to leave behind because when we tried to take them down, the paint started to peel. The house where I first sat down with my brand new son, just three short days after he was born. 
It hurt my heart to leave that house. 
But you know what? I live at the beach now. So…. yeah.

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Comments

7 Responses to “And if I don’t get the things I am after………”

  1. amy
    July 26th, 2010 @ 11:50 am

    first of all, in a few days J will be just fine. Seriously. Sit on your hands and be patient 🙂 Also, chamomile tea (steeped for a LONG time) put in a bottle with juice works well for my kids when sleep doesn't come natural!

    Second, I seriously can't believe mom was able to stay for all of the packing and unpacking and breakdowns and sickness and such. Shes a good mama….
    Better her than me 😉

    And finally, i am glad y'all are getting all settled….hope hubby manages to get all the stuff to Savannah this time!
    Love ya doo-dah…

  2. ~*Jess*~
    July 26th, 2010 @ 1:06 pm

    Leaving your first home is always super hard. Hell I'll be honest, I still wish I had our house in Dallas (but for multiple reasons so I digress, also, we don't live at a beach). I'm complete Type A so I have to get every damn thing done, I could care less if I'm exhausted or there are other people around to help. Not an option.

    Anyway, the transition has got to be pretty rough and he'll get it. When is he starting daycare? Hopefully that will get him retrained quickly.

    Good luck this week…

  3. KLZ
    July 26th, 2010 @ 1:33 pm

    Can we start a Bad Eggs club? Or have some sort of Bad Eggs contest?

    Because the funk that descended on me last Monday is threatening again. And I don't like being in a no-good, horrible mood all the time.

    But I can't help it, because everyone sucks but us.

    To continue yammering, let me prove it. It tooks 5 conversations to get my husband to understand that if we close on August 9th, he should take the 10th and 11th off to move…not the 12th and 13th. 5 separate conversations. At the end of every conversation he said "Ah, yes, that makes sense." 4 of the conversations started "Remind me again which days to take off?"

    I think he can take apart the crib. Our bed? I'm not so sure. I think he may conveniently not figure it out so he can buy a new one for the new house. Thrifty, that one is.

    I'll stop talking now.

  4. LA @The Reel Family
    July 26th, 2010 @ 3:20 pm

    I have put our crib together 3 times while my hubs whined, in fact, I put all of our baby stuff together because he never wanted to read the directions. I feel you on the moving. I have quite a tale that will make you laugh and feel good about your move but am way to tired to write it out.
    CliffNotes- Toxic Mold, swollen face that looked like elephantiasis 9 months pregnant, moved in with In-laws (hell), bought a house, had a baby and moved with stitches in my crouch.
    Pure and total hell but today we laugh. Give it a few months and sold house and I promise you will laugh. Promise.

  5. Eliza
    July 26th, 2010 @ 3:49 pm

    Moving is such a bitch…there's no two ways about it. It just sucks. But it's behind you now, and on the positive side, I find that moving in makes you start out all nice and organized (and that's a great feeling).

    I don't know all of J's sleep situations but I highly recommend The Good Night Sleep Tight Workbook by Kim West. Seriously. It's worked for me, two friends, and a family member so far. Maybe it's worth a shot?

    Hang in there….because you live at the beach after all and I am insanely jealous!

  6. Alena
    July 26th, 2010 @ 4:46 pm

    It will all work out! We left the house that we brought Sophia home to, and it was hard. I remember painting the nursery…decorating it….day dreaming in it. And then leaving it. But I got to make a new nursery. More fitting for Sophia's personality. A room that she will remember. A house that she will build memories in. THIS house is the one she will hold dear. So keep that in mind!!

  7. HarmSkills
    July 26th, 2010 @ 11:25 pm

    congrats on your move. so jealous about living near the beach, but I think that post makes me want to never move again 🙂

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