Moving In!

As some of you may have noticed, I have been a bit absent this past week. My lack of presence is due to the fact that we have moved into our new house. And so begins the long update.

Last Saturday and Sunday we had a painting crew here painting over all of the old ugly yellow colors on the walls and turning the entire house into a monochromatic "Classic Taupe." Yes, we opted for one color throughout, except for in the master bedroom and bathrooms. I will eventually paint the guest room a different color, but that is a project for another day. While the painters were painting the upstairs, Hubs got busy putting down laminate flooring that looks spectacular. With him busy putting down flooring, I went to work replacing door knobs and electrical outlets. We left to head back to the apartment around 11:30 that night only to return bright and early the next morning to let the movers in; however, I had changed all of the locks the night before and had an extra key made up that worked after it was made, but did not work in the lock the morning we were supposed to move in. Yes, we were locked out of our new house. Luckily a window had been left unlocked, and we were able to break in.

As the first of three trucks was being unloaded, I met with my first blow. I had four pieces of furniture that I absolutely cared about them getting here undamaged because they were either antiques or heirlooms from my grandma or both. The first was my grandmother's writing desk from the 1940s; the second was a little coffee table that my grandparent's bought when they first got married in the 1930s; the third and fourth were coffee tables that my grandma passed onto me before she died. The first piece of the four off the truck was the coffee table my grandparent's bought when they got married, and it was carried off the truck with only three legs. I couldn't believe that it showed up broken after the guy who loaded it onto the truck promised me he would take extra good care of it as it was an antique. You can imagine how my heart sank when I saw it arrive broken. The next piece off the truck was one of the side tables my grandma left me. The movers had removed the legs before loading it onto the truck, and somehow one of the legs showed up broken. I couldn't believe that two pieces showed up broken! The third table showed up missing all of its hardware, making it unusable in that we could not put it together. THANKFULLY the writing desk showed up unharmed.

After seeing my most precious and valuable belongings carried off the truck in pieces, I decided to go to work as a reprieve from seeing my things damaged. That night I got home, and the very first box I opened contained my grandpa's gig bag from the 1940s. For those of you who don't know what that is, my grandpa used to play trumpet during the Big Band Era, and he used this leather satchel to store his mutes and music in. The mover who packed the bag into the box put it in the bottom and then smashed it down to fit more goods into the box. This pressure ripped out the side seams of the precious, antique bag. As you can imagine, my depression started to head into a tailspin.

Tuesday evening I focused my efforts on unpacking the master bedroom and bathroom. Wednesday Hubs flew back to our old house to get it fixed up in an effort to help it sell faster, leaving me here in a new house all by myself to unpack all on my own. I had decided to start my unpacking efforts in the kitchen that night. I'm not sure if my unhappiness in the house was a result of the fact that I was traumatized by the move, the fact that the house is a tad beat down and needs some work (which we are doing), or that I had been left all alone. It was probably all of the above. But as I unpacked the kitchen I began to think that this house is the biggest POS (piece of sh*t), and that the previous home owners laughed after they sold us the place. The kitchen felt so inadequate, disgusting, and dark, and all I wanted to do was sit down and cry. The whole time I was unloading boxes, I thought about my sister who had been in a similar situation a few years ago, and how she had done exactly what I was doing, making the best of it and making it better. I thought of her for about an hour, trying to draw from her strength, when all of a sudden, she called. I finally allowed myself to break down and cry while I was talking to her and told her how I felt. She reminded me about the time she went through a similar situation, and I told her I had been thinking about her and how she handled it when it was her. After talking to her, I felt so much better about things.

Now a few days have passed, and with every day that goes by, I start to appreciate my house more and remember the vision I have in my head of how it will look and feel when we're done, which is going to be seriously awesome. With each passing day, I feel myself bouncing back from being depressed to being excited to see the changes in the house as we unpack, update, and make it ours. Tonight has been the best night so far in that I have been ecstatic with the unpacking progress I've made. I am excited to see how much I will accomplish this weekend, and am really enjoying turning this house into our home. I have been taking a few before and after pictures to show all of you once we're done. I keep telling myself that if the old home owners came back after we're done that they would want the house back, and I really believe that. I think they would wonder why they didn't do it when they lived here. Its all so simple, and it will make the biggest difference.

If I don't post a blog again for a while, its because I am crazy busy unpacking and turning this house into something awesome. For now, its time for my poor, exhausted body to head off to a warm shower and then a soft, comfy bed. Ta ta for now.