I Should Be Washing Dishes

I'm sitting on my living room couch right now in the middle of a house that is basically a giant mess. It has been a mess for a long time. It will probably remain a mess for quite a while yet.

As I mentioned before, we got a little carried away on the planned improvements before we moved into our new home - which resulted in a house that wasn't quite ready for us when the official moving date arrived (and passed, and then arrived again - at which point the moving date really meant it). The major work is all finished - it's just little things, most of which involve paint, and most of which are keeping us from fully unpacking. Well, there are other things keeping us from unpacking too, like a packed calendar, and habitual laziness, and a particularly cute and sassy three-foot urchin with fairly demanding expectations for attention/entertainment/meals/nose-wiping/etc., but those are posts for another time.

The point is, we're not exactly ready for an open-house. Which we keep telling people we're having. (Perhaps just in time for Christmas!)

We're also a bit behind on other things. As in, I still need to send my grandparents a thank-you card for last Christmas. As in, Eden's California Memories photobook - you know, from when we lived in California almost 9 months ago. As in, laundry. As in, a hundred zillion e-mails, facebook messages, phone calls (I hereby guarantee that this last one will never happen people), cards, smoke signals, and other assorted means of communication all of which I am. horrible. at keeping up with.

My doctor told me to make a follow-up appointment for three weeks after Judah's delivery date. It will be three weeks tomorrow. I made the appointment... yesterday. (I also made it begrudgingly, but that is perhaps another post for another time.) The nurse was merciful and found a spot to squeeze us in on Monday afternoon. (In case you haven't picked up on it, I kind of don't really want to go.)

On Wednesday I sat down and tried to make a list of everything I needed to do. Using one line for every item I easily filled a page and a half. Some things aren't too scary: facebook so-and-so, add an event to my google calendar. Most things, unfortunately, are: unpack house, organize house, decorate house. Get a gym membership and stop trying to smother your sadness with junk food.

My sister-in-law was appropriately worried about the creation of this list - concerned that seeing it all in black-and-white would be too overwhelming and do more harm than good. She has a point. But I was just so sick of the constant mental post-it-notes to do this or that, each and every one of which would be forgotten and remembered and forgotten again in an unending upward spiral of stress and frustration and guilt and remorse, that I had to try something. And, I do think it was helpful - I'm still stressed but at least that extra little stress of "don't forget..." has been removed.

However, looking at the list absolutely emphasizes how impossible it all actually is. I'm trying to accomplish a month's worth of full-time work in 30 minutes a day, and hoping to be done in a week or so. It's not going to happen. And, honestly? My biggest fear is probably just how many people are going to be mad at me (or hurt, or offended, or disappointed) before it's all through.

Am I being melodramatic if I say that I just really don't want another thing to feel sad about?

This house, in its unpacked state, makes me feel sad. The fact that so many people who were and are so kind to us, and who deserve at least some kind of acknowledgment of their kindness, have so far gone without, makes me feel sad. My inability to be the person I was 10 years ago, the person who got things done, makes me feel sad.

Possible or not, healthy or not, it makes me feel good to think about knocking everything off this list. And, I think? There are worse ways of trying to cope.

And that's me. Praying for God's mercy as I fumble my way through the impossible.

(Write blog post. Check.)