when there's a stove in your living room

...and a garbage can to boot. when you were supposed to be moved in before christmas--december the seventeenth to be exact--and you want to pretend that you are alright, that everything is going to be fine. but nothing has a place. and, quite frankly, order and control are the things you cling to, with the tightest of fists.


panic and anxiety creep into the deepest caverns of your heart and take root--deep, tangly, webbed roots. and you become bitter and somehow angry at the partner holding your hand through it, standing by you, ripping out the cabinets he wanted to keep, but--in fact--he loves you more than those cabinets, so there they go out the door.

impatience is your dearest friend. and this well of emotions is-was-has been bubbling up...and you cannot keep calm, you cannot hold back the flurry of frustrations any longer.

just look at that stove. that stove you found on craigslist--well, your husband did. and the moment the both of you laid eyes on it--through the pixelated screen of your macbook pro--you looked at each other and knew, so you drove across the state the next weekend and picked it up.

and look at the rug--currently covered in blocks and tiny tights and costco diaper wipes..the rug that has already made the coziest of seating for friends from out of town--in from the cold, armed with a giant box of thai food and a bottle of wine. the rug that your daughters have laughed and hugged and dropped banana on. the rug you shared a costco sized veggie pizza with david when your girls were asleep, just the two of you.

breathe.

there will be memories made when you move in. and you will be moving in sooner than you know.

don't miss out on the 'right-before-your-eyes' memories. the joy happening today.

be grateful, give thanks, count your blessings.