So far in this project most of the work has been done by Lani the Builder and one of his employees named Owen. So I was very excited when I drove by the house this morning (we carpool with the boy who lives next door, so we get to drive by everyday) and saw a crew at work on the house.
I know that picture only has 2 people in it. I swear there were like 10 of them when I drove by this morning. And they were making so much progress! These are the forms for the foundation.
In the afternoon, about 3:30, we decided to drive by the house one more time so I could take a few more pictures. And what did I find?
They poured the concrete too! This was a totally unexpected and very happy surprise.
I went into parenthood with a pretty good idea of what I was getting into.
Ha! Just kidding. I never could have anticipated all of this. There was lots of stuff I expected though. I expected to be sleep-deprived, and I had an idea that it was going to take 10 times longer to get out of the house anytime we need to go anywhere (though in reality it takes more like 700 times longer), and I knew that my house would always be a mess, but there were some things that I did not expect, and I would like to take this time to share them with you. Thank you.
1. Not Being Allowed To Talk To Myself:
Because there is always someone else there. And they are always listening. So when I drop my phone on the floor AGAIN, for like the 6th time in a minute and I growl "Oh, come on!" There is a little voice there saying "What? What happened, Mom? What's wrong? What happened? What? What? What happened, Mom? What? What's wrong? What? What? What? What? What? What? What?"
Even if I answer the simple question with a simple answer that won't be the end of it. I could say, "I dropped my phone again." But the little voice would ask "Why did you drop your phone? Did it break? What if it DID break? Will it break if we drop it outside? Can I drop your phone?" And I don't WANT to talk about what happened! I dropped my phone. I want to express my annoyance and move on, not talk about it for the rest of the day.
2. Not Being Allowed to Throw Things Away:
My children use the garbage can to get an idea of the events of the day and to know what I was up to in their absence. Every candy wrapper will be brought as evidence against me for the injustice and inequality of treats my children suffer at my hands. The piece of paper they spent 2 seconds drawing a horizontal line on will be laid out as proof of my lack of reverence for their creativity. And forget about throwing out that dumb McDonald's toy they never play with that is both misshapen and broken. They check the garbage can regularly. They must root through it, because unless I put things in the large can outside, they will be found.
3. Finding Out How Impatient You Are:
This is the worse one. I thought I was a pretty OK person before I had kids. But now I know that I am crazy impatient, easily annoyed, selfish, and quick to anger. Oh, how wonderful to learn all those things about yourself! In case you didn't have enough reasons to be humble, now you also know that on a scale from 1 to Saint-Hood, ha ha that is hilarious you aren't even on the scale. Congratulations. You are a Parent.
4. Never Getting to Be Alone. Ever Again.
Nothing is sacred to children. I thought we had outgrown the coming-with-me-to-the-bathroom phase, and the "hey mom can you see my fingers under the door?" phase, but I guess not. My 4 (almost 5) year old has taken to following me to the bathroom every time I go. He will stand right in the doorway so that I can't close the door until we have a 20 minute long conversation about how I need to be alone in the bathroom or until I physically push him out. If I am really fast and I get the door shut and locked before he gets there, he will come and knock on the door, saying, "Mom? Are you in there? I want to come in!" And when I say "No, I am using the toilet." he says "I don't CARE that you naked!" Every time. Like that was my big hangup, I was afraid he might care.
Sometimes I get to be alone. I have to be honest. Because my youngest is 4 and he is in preschool so for 2 hours, 3 days a week, I am blissfully alone. And I can talk to myself and throw stuff away (as long as I throw it outside, and bury it deep, deep down under leftover rice and cottage cheese and stuff) and go to the bathroom with the door wide open with reckless abandon. And I do. I totally do, so you should probably not stop by my house for a visit in the afternoons, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Consider yourself warned.