It's 8:45 AM and Baby Bear is already down for her first nap. There is a garage full of boxes that I should be going through and a kitchen to clean. My bed needs to be made and one would think I'd take this quiet time to shower and dress for the day. But I'm exhausted. More than anything I want to nap but I fear it will be even more difficult to wake in an hour when nap time is over. My eyes burn today, more so as I think of the hours ahead.
We aren't yet settled enough that I have coffee waiting to brew so my mind is lagging this week. About mid afternoon, when my body is ready for sleep, my mind finally seems to catch up. I scratch my head and look at the piles I've managed to make while unpacking. It takes every last inch of energy to clear the piles out and organize my things the best I know how (obsessively) so things look better when The Bear arrives home from work. The kitchen must wait until after dinner when I get some sort of second wind.
By the end of the day my back aches and I think of all that is left to do. Pillows are towering at the bottom of the stairs waiting for a case. I know they all had one when we packed yet somehow they all seem to be missing. Just when I'm ready to take a few minutes to sit outside with a beer and some cookies, watch the stars, and worry about my sisters and their troubles, Baby Bear wakes. She is either genuinely upset and uncomfortable or she has learned if she cries and fights enough I'll pick her up, snuggle her into my warm chest, and rock her until she is asleep again. Refusing to allow me to put her back down I give in and put her in our bed where she snuggles on Mr. Bear's chest while they watch some Adult Swim cartoon on the IPad. I brush my teeth and climb in bed with them. I still ate my cookies. An hour later Baby is finally asleep in her own bed and I crash into mine. I was probably too grumpy with Mr. Bear that evening but hopefully he knows how much I love and need him. The hours of sleep I get don't feel rejuvenating enough and 7 AM is here before I know it. Which is what brought me to this moment of exhaustion.
But I love this house, oh, I really love it. I don't feel deserving of such a beautiful home. Even now, exhausted and lazy in my unmade bed, the morning light is beaming through our huge bedrooms windows. If only I had coffee I could sit outside and begin my day right. Baby Bear loves it too. She climbs the long staircase every chance she gets (even though she seems too small to climb so many stairs she's been doing it for weeks now, it took her only two tries to figure out how to maneuver them properly) and hauls her little self up onto every piece of furniture she can reach. If it's on the floor and taller than her (sitting down) it must be meant for climbing. Mr. Bear loves it too. He cooks me dinner in the kitchen (lentil walnut veggie burgers with yogurt cream sauce FROM SCRATCH!), he weeds the dead, overgrown yard, he putters around wishing he could feel settled and worrying, I'm sure, about bills and new larger mortgage payments.
*edit My battery died after that last sentence and then I didn't have internet set up yet sooo....I've forgotten if I was going to end with something intriguing. I wrote this about, oh, 5 days ago.
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