Eight days and counting

I am stressed. Turns out I'm not super great at handling it, either.

My poor insides have been tortured, twisting and churning and trying to make my very very unhappy. My stress-related IBS has flared, making life unpleasant. I'm tired. I'm irritable. I'm depressed. I NEED TO GET THIS HOUSE BUYING MADNESS OVER WITH!!

At least 75% of my recent stress is house-building and -purchasing related. The final walk-through and warranty wrap-up is tomorrow. But as of Tuesday we still didn't have a full-painted exterior, the sump pump in the basement wasn't working leading to standing water and a bit of mold, the powder room sink was ripped out due to a leak, the microwave hasn't been installed, the wrong kitchen island was installed, only half the window-coverings were in, someone spilled paint on the tile floor, we are missing a few heat registers and our inspector found a handful of minor issues that are easy to fix but still take time. All this is supposed to be completely finished by tomorrow at 11:00 am. If not, we have to do a SECOND walk through before the closing to make sure everything is finished.

To top it off, the damn mortgage company keeps asking for more stuff, or letters to explain previously-acquired information, to "finilize everything for write-off." Huh? Why not figure out everything you need from me and ask once instead of calling me three times a week and freaking me out?!!

And so, as you can see, the stressful two-week period before I buy a house is in full stressful bloom for all the world to see. And don't even get me started on packing.

This too shall pass. And when it does I will have a lovely home for many years to come. I need only to survive the next 10 days, the finishing and purchasing and packing and moving, and I will be fine. Fine fine fine. I just need to breathe. Sleep a little more. Eat more vegetables. And breathe again.

Now is the time for freaking out

HOLY FRIJOLES. People. I close on the new house in 16 days. I do the final walk-through in nine days. The inspector comes in six days. I start freaking out in zero days!

We have packed exactly three boxes. I know that most packing has to wait until the last few days, but it is hard to know that this entire house of belongings needs to be boxed up and moved in less than three weeks. The freezer! The bikes! The couch! Everything! I'm going to lose my mind.

We've settled on a paint scheme for the living/dining area. It is hard to imagine, but we're going with three large horizontal stripes in light chartreuse and dark grey. Evelyn's bedroom will be a high gloss midnight blue. The master bedroom is TBD.

When last I visited (Monday), everything was in except the kitchen counter, kitchen backsplash, window coverings, bathroom mirrors and medicine cabinets. Our yard-adjacent neighbors moved in last weekend, and with them a giant dog that can look right into our dining room from his dining room. They have a "Welcome" sign on their front door. It looks like a country broom. I have already judged them for that. (Yes.)

We were told our wall-adjacent neighbors are a fun young couple, the husband of which is an Air Force helicopter flying instructor. So far we've only seen one kid, and she is an 18-month old at the end of the courtyard. Considering one enormous factor in moving to this new neighborhood was to be engulfed with Evelyn-aged children, I am disappointed. Lots of young, childless couples that may start procreating in the next few years, but few that already have. Boo.

I've already started imagining my new life in my new neighborhood. I'll bike to the store! I'll bike to work! We'll take the dogs to the dog park, via bicycle! (Do you see a theme?) I've decided our family minivan will actually be an Xtracycle, and we'll become hipster bicycle enthusiasts, with handlbar mustaches and olde tyme tartan wool pants.

EDIT: This will be me.









I hope, really really hope, that this move turns out to be a good decision.

Cue the Benny Hill music

Our lives are one big comedy of errors. Example 1:

What you see there are two baby guinea pigs, miraculously born last night to our two MALE guinea pigs. Yeah. Guess the pet store people were wrong on that whole gender thing.

I can not BELIEVE our guinea pigs had guinea pigs. I saw their little penises! They are male! Except obviously not. I also can not believe baby guinea pigs are born full of hair and as big as two golf balls. They are already running around, eating, loving life. That poor mama must have had quite a night!

So...baby guinea pigs. Yeah. What next?

One month to go

We close on our house February 24. One month. I AM SO EXCITED I COULD SCREAM!

Everybody loves the Stock Show

Year of the Dragon

Holiday wrap up: It was good. Family, food, sleep, gifts, repeat. I got a nasty stomach virus last week, but all was healed by the time I returned to work today. I didn't turn on my computer for 11 days. (The iPad doesn't count, right?) I feel rejuvinated and rested. Thank you to everyone who made the holidays wonderful.

The New Year: Do you make resolutions? I don't. I try to pick a "theme" for the year and focus my thoughts and actions on that. A friend of mine posted on Twitter something to the effect, "What would happen if everyone who resolved to lose weight in the new year instead resolved to fight poverty." Yes! What if? Instead of Ten Tips To Declutter Your Closets! we chose ten tips to declutter our minds. Instead of Lose 20 Pounds This Month we chose to help 20 people this month. What a revolutionary thought. I'd like to try that.

My goal for this year, beginning in October for my birthday, is to make it the Year of Rachel. I did pretty well in the last quarter. I lost 12 pounds. I donated to charity organizations I believe in. I maintained two new friendships. I bought purple eyeliner. I became a better parent. I discovered I was gluten intolerant and adjusted my diet. I continued to kick ass in my kick-ass job.

I believe 2012 will be more of the same. More self improvement. More introspection. And, hopefully, more of that good-will-toward-men stuff that is so important. And more Ryan Gossling. Definately.

Make it the Year of Rachel + Others.

So what does the Year of the Dragon have in store for you?

(And P.S. Evelyn starts preschool tomorrow. I'm nervous for her. I'm nervous for Jon and I. I have to start packing lunches! We have six weeks of a brutal commute! What if she misses her old daycare friends? More later...)

Round 2

This is a story of a stupid thing I did.

You will recall that a few months ago I decided to give up soda cold turkey. I was focused on the yummy, brown, caffeinated sodas, the Diet Cokes and Diet Dr Peppers of the world. The month it took to feel free of headaches and cravings (yes, a whole MONTH), was one of the hardest self-inflected suckfests in recent memory. The first week was hellish. I had dreams of Diet Coke--seriously. I woke up immediately wanting a giant soda. I even cried a couple of times. Honestly, it was pretty embarassing how addicted I had become.

The days and weeks following that month, after I had kicked the sauce and didn't "need" it anymore, were AWESOME. I had done it! I conqured the beast! Slayed the dragon! Maybe just one Diet Coke with lunch wouldn't be so bad, since I was clearly so awesome at not being addicted anymore, right?

I think you know where this is going. I had one soda with lunch a few times. I ordered a medium, not a large, and patted myself on the back for such self-control. Then it was a large soda once a day. Then maybe a soda any time I ate out. I still didn't have soda in the house so I figured I was doing just fine. But then I brought some into the house for a party. And pretty soon I was driving through McDonalds in the morning to get a big soda for work, oh and why don't we make it two large sodas because I know I'll want one later. And maybe a large soda at lunch, and ....

I am right back where I started. One month to kick it, only a few weeks to slide right back.

Dammit! I don't think the craving or addiction is as bad as it was when I went cold turkey the first time, but it won't be long before it is. I want to be able to have it just a little, but maybe I can't. Like a freakin' alcoholic! Only this stuff won't kill me (quickly) or cause me to endanger people on the road. It will, however, cost me a lot of money and do damage to my body over time.

So tomorrow begins Soda Withdrawls Part Deux.

Lame.