Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Thirty-Four


























Thirty Four.

That's how many stairs there are in our new home.

The first flight takes you from our front door into our actual living space, the second, to where all the bedrooms are. Tonight I put the boys to bed (their room is ALL the way up the stairs AND at the very end of the hall--or in other words, as far from the front door as humanly possible):

I gathered the boys and climbed.

Seventeen up.

At which point I remembered that all the diapers where located downstairs.

Seventeen down...
aaaand
up again.

The little guys were both stinky. This meant the diapers needed to go out before the neighbors complained, which meant RIGHT NOW -- it was that bad.

Are you with me here? Thirty-four down (where is that dumpster?) and, because I forgot the one-year-old's pacifier, thirty four up again.

I should have just slid down on my bottom for the final return trip but, as with all else, I lacked the foresight.

I am beginning to see that thinking things through might have merit.

Perhaps a pulley system could be put into effect? We could even let the cats (two, not SEVEN) out this way; It would certainly ensure that they did not change their mind once I got to the bottom of the stairs to open the door. Hey, they have nine lives and always land on their feet; if they hesitated, we could just sort of just 'pour' them out.

Most likely, no.

The Young-Childless-Couple-Who-Had-The-Building-To-Themselves-Before-the-Family-With-Five-Kids-Went-and-Ruined-Their-Honey-Moon-Phase might complain.

Poor them, living below us.

Sincerely.

I'm thinking that going up and down all the time will help with the postpartum thing. Shape me right up.

Would it be too much to hope it does the same thing for my attitude and my emotions?

I am just like those stairs.

Up.

Down.

Uhhhhp.

Way Down.

There is still sooo much to be done with the old house. Caring-for-my-mom-stuff and being-mom-stuff too.

I go back and forth between REALLY (dare I say it?) liking our new home and fear.

If I admit that I like it, will I curse everything, and end up losing this place too? Still no job, ya know.

I hate fear.

Maybe I will mock it-

Where did I leave my hammer and nails? I have pictures to hang.

That's the spirit!

Oh, no wait, it's past ten already...Quiet time.


Guess I'll be a conqueror tomorrow, right now I have to be a good neighbor.


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