We couldn't let the adrenaline of I-was-in-the-hospital-our-son-was-in-the-hospital-I-had-surgery-our-son-had-surgery die down, so in the midst of all that we bought a house, and moved in on Friday. Already, this 700 sq. ft. goldfish has grown into her three bedroom pond. It's a 1950's ranch style, so storage isn't all that abundant, but even then, there is still so! much! space! We can have friends over...we can have friends with kids over! That's true luxury, y'all.
In spite of all my thrill-seeking tendencies, I did have the good sense to realize that perhaps a trip to Ikea, with a baby, on a weekend, just after we moved was maybe not such a good idea. Instead, we rewarded our unpacking efforts with some diy reality TV. Wisdom with age, what can I say?
If you're looking for a rush, however, you could come a take a shower at our place. Something was bound to fall through the cracks with all the moving hoopla, and that something was arranging for the natural gas hook-up. Doesn't get much more pioneer days than boiling water for your Saturday evening bath. Hot showers will be mine after sometime tomorrow.
Isaac, of course, has no idea that we just spent his inheritance on becoming homeowners, or as I like to call it, the landed gentry, and is still reveling in the newborn phase that will never end. At 4.5 months old, he really clocks in at 6 weeks. Basically, since he came home at 36 weeks (which I am NOT complaining about) we got an extra month of newborn-ness. The rest of the country got 6 more weeks of winter; we have 6 more weeks of the fourth trimester coming our way.
|Sure, I'll show off my new trick|
|Give me your cold and shivering masses|
And so, with neither strategy nor realistic plan, I too answer the summons for 7 posts in 7 days sent out by Jen, the Pied Piper of blog linkups. Here goes nothing.