21 August 2015

The Sunset of Summer

Yesterday evening, I invited Abigail's preschool teacher over for dinner in a bid to get to know her better. She's the same teacher Abigail had last year, but I never made time like I wished I'd had. I figured "better late than never." We scheduled it out a few weeks in advance, I made sure to plan out the menu ahead of time, and I was pretty excited yesterday morning. My "impress the teacher" menu included grilled sliders on homemade pretzel buns with bacon, cheddar, grilled onions and peppers...


homemade baked sweet potato chips...


and for dessert: a blueberry-raspberry puff-pastry tart with a sprinkling of dark chocolate chips.


I put all my available effort into food prep, meaning no vacuuming happened and the bathroom remained its lovely shade of "soap scum," so I opted to dim the lights, light some candles, and play a little jazz music (from a Youtube playlist). Nothing says, "Ignore the crushed Cheerios!" like soft lighting and Ella Fitzgerald.


I put Abigail in one of her nicer shirts, did her hair, and attempted to keep her somewhat clean until the guest of honor arrived.


The day itself was pretty chaotic. Both girls were extra bratty, I had three panic attacks (my first since starting the antidepressent), and too many hot flashes to count. I should have made the dessert and chopped the veggies a day in advance and made less from scratch. The day was too filled with frustration and yelling and internal cuss words. The evening, thankfully, went off beautifully with great conversation and a very happy Abigail. I'm glad it happened and the food was really tasty. But I walked away realizing that I'm done entertaining people and making big meals until I'm no longer pregnant.

"Hello, Daddy? You should come home a little early today - you totally gotta see the shade of red on Mommy's face."

Today we are doing the opposite of yesterday. We are taking it very easy and doing lots of laundry (a very low-stress chore compared to making a million things from scratch). Dinner will be made up of either leftovers or frozen pizza. The girls will both nap.

Two weeks remain until Matt and Abigail's first days (at the new job and school!) and in between now and then, we have eight therapy sessions and three appointments. I had desperately hoped to squeeze in two more play dates, but realistically, I think just making it through two weeks without another panic attack would be a victory.

Once Abigail is away at school, I will be starting the third trimester. We aren't sure yet if we are going to buy or build, but we'll have that figured out by the end of September at the latest. Either way, we are going to get a storage unit to keep the apartment as open as possible, so it is my plan to spend the next three months following Labor Day slowly deep-cleaning and packing up our apartment.

It is going to be a lot of work, but we are finally doing it with a Forever House in sight.

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