High anxiety

Whew! I am feeling some serious self-imposed pressure about this move! For some reason, I have in my mind that we MUST be living there by next weekend. It's fine with Grandma if we stay on a bit longer, and I suppose I should feel nothing but gratitude that we have this house as a base while we work on the other. HOWEVER, I am feeling really overwrought and ready to get out of here, probably because I know it's coming. It's too hot here, and Henry is told "no" at every turn, and I just can't take it much longer. I am tired of making supper and eating at 5pm, and I am tired of cooking up things to take us out of the house every day. The animals are anxious, Grandma is grumpy, and I am just feeling such an urge for my own stuff, my own food, my own space, music, good smells and no carpets.

Carpet is gross, people, especially when it's decades old!

This clerk at the UM birth center, Maria, is quite a character. She is quirky, and always makes a rather off-beat comment in most conversations. She came to my going-away party, and told me that I was really in for some trouble with this move. When I asked her why, she responded "You are going to be taking care of a baby, living with an old lady and dealing with a man! It's like three times as hard as anything else." I just thought it was funny, like, "oh, Maria!" and forgot about it until a week or two ago, when I realized she was right.

I really hope that my stress/anxiety levels decrease with our move, because it has been hard walking on eggshells for Grandma, keeping Henry corralled (when that's the last thing he needs or wants) and trying to communicate with Paul about what we need to plan, do, check or call on. And adjust to missing all my downstate people, get to know a new town and be out of my element housekeeping-wise. Okay, poor me. End rant!

We decided that it would make the most sense to refinish the hardwood floors before we even think about doing anything else. The kicker is that we haven't even been able to get in the house yet, and I have no idea what we're going to encounter underneath those carpets. We've never done this before, so I'm anxious about it turning out well, and not taking a whole week to do. Paul is at risk of having to stay overtime on any given work day, and I'm feeling some anxiety related to how everything is going to get done. I'm also a little worried about how it's all going to go with Henry involved...being a nursling who has somewhat weird sleep patterns, he's a challenge for someone to take care of for more than a couple of hours. And, I haven't really left him with others much to speak of. I'm sure he'll be fine overall, but I feel pulled in the direction of trying to knock this house work out with Paul and still do what Henry needs. As well as make sure we have groceries, and that Grandma's needs are taken care of until we're officially "gone."

I asked her today what she was feeling about us leaving, and she just said "Weellll..." and then got up from the table and started cleaning up her dishes. Oh man, she is getting harder to understand, rather than easier. I busted ass twice this week to get supper made and on the table by her eating time. Both times, when I went into the living room to tell her it was time to eat, she refused because she didn't feel like eating. Another time, I woke myself up from a much needed nap to get supper made and found her eating a sandwich and cheese puffs because she felt hungry. That's fine! Really, it is, but it's a little frustrating too. I offer her lunch every day when Henry and I are eating, and she says she doesn't want anything. Then, an hour later, she's eating cookies and drinking that horrible Ensure that she favors so much. Here's what she buys when she stops in the grocery store after her weekly hair-do:

• Some sort of chips or cheese puffs, or cheese popcorn
  
• Cookies from the bakery department
• Candy of some sort to put in a dish
• Lunch meat that is the most processed of the processed...like olive loaf or liverwurst (which, she has yet to eat any of)
• Canned or frozen meals
• Soft white bread
• Processed cheese slices

Every day for breakfast, she has a frozen waffle with Log Cabin syrup (never mind that we have maple syrup from Uncle John's trees in the fridge) and frozen OJ. She eats little bits of whatever I make for supper, usually, but when I ask her if she likes something, she says things like, "It's okay, I suppose, if you like vegetables." Okay. So, I don't ask anymore. If she doesn't like it, she can go get something she likes.

Sorry, ranting again. At any rate, I'm determined to stay polite and respectful, and keep telling her of our plans and how they can change. What else can I do?