12 Sep 2013

nearly done moving.

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[An obscure picture from my last moving day two years ago - I really like pulses]

It has been a very, very long week for tubby here but, at long last, we are all moved across into the new house.  I am now the proud owner (sort of, 'proud renter' lacks something) of a staircase!  I don't know - getting pregnant, co-habiting with my doctor boyfriend, not being asked for my ID to buy wine at Sainsbury's - all seemed pretty grown up but did not even compare to the moment that I put some books on the stairs to be taken up on my next trip.  It's the little things.
Despite this joy I can't stop referring to it as 'the flat' and I have literally no idea how to fill the amount of space we have.  I am used to living in flats not much bigger than a phone booth and moving day typically consists of expletives and how-on-earth-will-this-all-fits and never how-on-earth-does-this-room-still-look-emptys.  I am led to believe that this feeling will be a thing of the past once baby boy makes his grand appearance but currently I am reveling.

What I will say is that moving house on your own, at nearly 8 months pregnant, when your strong, manly man is present for less than an hour a day, is exhausting!  Trying to assemble IKEA furniture with a wriggly bump in the way (I can no longer kneel but have developed a very lady-like squat) does not feature high on any list of things to do in your third trimester (but the pride associated with deciphering the cryptic instructions and single handedly assembling a flat pack sofa?  Priceless).

Clearly the giddy feeling of success was a little overwhelming and I am back in the parental home for the day, making the most of an internet connection and rooms not filled with boxes.  (Also, future posting will be very erratic until the nice internet man comes and rejoins me to the modern age). 

1 comment:

  1. wonderful post... all the best to you and yours during this exciting time!
    xx

    ReplyDelete