As we get closer to D-day {Delivery Day… not Doom’s Day, mind you} my anxiety levels seem to be on a roller coaster ride of peaks and troughs. My inner-most thoughts swirl around what still needs to be organized in the house, what still needs to be purchased, put together, nailed to the wall, what information we need to bone-up on and just which particular day in an already hectic schedule this is all going to occur on. When I’m not panicking, I’m planning, scheming, executing, and asking my dear husband to do just one more thing, which seems to calm the panic.
It must be said that the only true panic I’ve experienced happened last Saturday. After a 10 hour day at work on my feet, I came home determined to turn this house upside down until everything was neatly organized into 1 of 12 totes or in what I deemed to be the “correct closet” for an item to be stowed. Nick had been home that day and even though he had finished oodles around the house, I felt the need to do more. After carrying the 13th load down the stairs at almost midnight, I broke into hysterics at my dear baseball loving husband watching America’s favorite past-time in the living room.
Had he already worked all day on the house and deserved a break at almost midnight?
Yes.
Did he know I was idiotically carrying large totes of junk up and down the basement stairs by myself and fearing I would go into pre-term labor at any moment, still just couldn’t stop myself?
No.
Would he have jumped up to help me if he had 1.) Been aware or 2.) I had asked?
Yes.
After I sobbed a tiny dramatic bit, I decided I had finally hit bottom and called it a night {setting my alarm clock extra early so I could get up and do more on a Sunday morning before work…}. I was them able to more rationally explain to my poor, confused husband my fears and apologized for the water works.
Thankfully, most of this pregnancy has been rather calm. More psychotic breaks like this and I may have been admitted to the looney bin.
{Though Nick probably enjoys it – One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is one of his favorite movies!}
Amazingly, in the week since that small panic attack, progress has been made beyond anything I had ever imagined possible in such a small amount of time. {Hence, my absence from blog-world!} The glider and ottoman finally came in for the nursery, all the furniture is finished being painted and put in place, the fabric arrived for the curtains, the majority of the house has been organized to a more tolerable arrangement, our new dining room suit has been delivered {pictures to come}, and the kicker: the house has been cleaned spotless and I didn’t have to do a single second of it!
We have hired what I consider to be, my very own cleaning fairy god-mothers =)
4 ladies + 4 1/2 hours cleaning every window inside and out as well as every piece of woodwork in the house and every inch of everything else including moving furniture to find socks I haven’t seen in years {thanks, Hendrix!} = one very happy preggo.
Previously, we had discussed possibly hiring a cleaning lady when I returned from maternity leave, but not before then. My plan had been to cut back to the minimum to still be considered full-time for a pharmacist, 32 hours, after baby and then determine if that was enough of a "break" to get the house done myself or consider the alternative. Long story short, my company decided to do a major overhaul this past June making all the managers salary positions at 40 hours with no option to cut back.
I have to say that a big reason for me going into this particular profession was the great amount of pay I could still make at part-time when I would “one day” become a mother. A great amount of time at home with my little one with a few hours of adult interaction and self validation in the business world seemed like the perfect mix. To say I was disappointed with this change right at the time I’m about to have my first child is an understatement.
I went through a little grieving, prayed about it and as usual, God gave a little push and made me see all my blessings once again: thankful I even have a job, thankful to be the manager and make my own schedule, thankful I’m being “forced” to work 40 hours and not having my hours cut back and begging for more work. It was a process and I’m sure I will have to remind myself of all the positives when I’m back at work after baby, but I am much more at peace with the situation today.
Back to the cleaning ladies… my other big blessings!
With the change in plans at work, I now knew I wanted some help when I went back. But with the little time we have left before Houston gets here and the many things besides cleaning that needed to be finished, hubs and I decided the time had come to go ahead with the hiring. These babies following me home after work each night helped the decision as well:
{Believe it or not, this was after an abnormal work day of SITTING in a meeting all day - not my usual 12 hours of standing... believe me, they actually get worse than this!=)}
All that to say my panic has almost disappeared with the progress we've made and cleaning fairy god-mothers coming bi-weekly... we may have even saved my marriage ;)
Nasty story about my
nasty behavior combined with a
nasty picture of my cankle - just keepin' it real, people!
Speaking of keeping it real... you know,
Britney - go read her
hilarious blog post about her preggo brain mix-up over my shower last night. {Shower re-cap to come, we had a fabulous time!!} You will laugh and feel compelled to say "
Bless her heart..." in true Kentucky fashion. I love that girl!