As most of you know, we now have a house. This week is the week where we pack and move. Steve has most of his packing done. I, on the other hand, have zilch, nada, zip, zero. In my defense, I have been staying with him and not here at my own house. But today, here I am, I've been home for almost 6 hours and not a damn box packed yet. I am the world's worst procrastinator.
After I finish screwing off on here, I'm going to go downstairs and pack up the kitchen. I was thinking if we have the kitchen and the bathroom ready, all the other stuff would fall into place. I, at least want one sanctuary ready before the chaos begins. I figure the bathroom is a good place to start. Because as everyone knows, the bathroom is your favorite place if you have a child, particularly if the bathroom has a lock! The kitchen is a necessity. My sister Jac is coming to help me clean, and put things into place.
In a week's time, for the first time in my life, I will be living with a man without the sanctity of marriage. Still not quite sure how I deep down honestly feel about it, but I know that things will work out. I finally took my father's advice (and permission) and am going to try the living together thing. But I am scared in a way. Not that Steve and I won't get along or anything of that nature. I guess I'm scared that I will not live up to his expectations. I'm scared my kid will try to run him off (that is a battle he won't win). Hell, I'm even afraid our cats will never learn to get along (a weekend together proved my cat is a wuss). I'm sure, after a few nights of all of us under one roof, all of these fears will not only be unfounded, but also prove to be down right silly. I, for one, am certainly hoping so.
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