Done and dusted. Now to blog or to sleep?

The million dollar question.

Just a quick update for those who might be around.  Might be wondering.

We moved.  We're here, in the new house.  There are boxes everywhere.  Bits of furniture peeking out from underneath.  Boxes marked office in the kitchen, and boxes marked kitchen in the guest room. 

Beggars can't be choosers.  The ILs came to help us do it.  It's my husband's way of helping.. bring in his parents.  Rather than get off the couch and help me himself.  Oops did I say that out loud?  In his defence he did have a heck of a lot to deal with outside, with moving all the chook cages and dog cages and such, but he isn't the most motivated or organised fella, and the nice thing (for him) was that with his mother here he was able to continue to "knock off" come dark time, eat a meal and go to bed.

His wife (aka me) on the other hand hasn't really been to sleep before 1am for probably three weeks now.  "Up" time is any time after 6am, and there is one wake up at least to deal with in between.  I am exhausted to say the least, but when you hit that level the answer isn't just to "have an early night". 

We have a holiday to the west lined up for April.  Bring it on.

:::

Oh, but that means my nightmare ILs will be back to house sit for us.  Don't get me wrong.. I do actually really like my ILs.  But a little goes a long way in times of stress, in a small house where we are on top of one another, and when she just.doesn't.listen.

But we got packed up in the end.  My one am mornings finished off with a two thirty am one, so that I could seal her boxes, move them into an organised and stacked position, and see what hadn't been done so I could do that too!  Tensions were high, and Shane tells me I'm not currently the favourite DIL.

I found though, that this time round I just don't have the patience for pussy footing.  I don't know if it's "dead baby" or if it's "subsequent live baby", but whatever it is I have a much shorter fuse and am a lot more direct.  I'm still polite as it's not in me to be rude. 

All is "good" at the house.  It's divine to have a proper house again.  Nice big rooms.  Room to move.  Toby is having a ball crawling around.  On the down side he has hit the clingy stage, and with me needing to move between rooms doing things, and not being able to let him follow me because the other places aren't baby proofed... well, there is a very sad child at times.  Poor baby.

:::

But in among all of the changes I've had some very low, low, low down times. 

I found a box of baby toys that were packed up from the first house, never unpacked due to room constrictions in the next house, and now Toby is too big for them really.  Sad enough in anyone's little one's world.  As my MIL said... he won't miss them.  Except that these were toys I had bought for Ciaran.  Another child, another place, another time.  Heart ache.

I'm struggling with setting up Toby's room here.  I only realised today that I think the problem is around the fact that I had a nursery that I enjoyed setting up.  It was for baby Ciaran.  And it was never taken down, but was "enhanced" for another baby that didn't come, and then for Toby.  Except we moved house before Toby "enjoyed" it either.  And now I have a room that is for Toby.  I get to set it up all.for.Toby.  Except I don't know where to start.  It's not a baby's room any more.  He's turning very quickly into a little boy.

:::

And now?  I need to sleep.  Not much of a blog update.  I'll have to get to it another time when I can think.  Perhaps in about twenty one years.