My blood pressure that is...
I apologize for the lapse in updates over the last week. We got the fence issue resolved on Wednesday afternoon and officially closed that day. Keys in hand, ready to move in. Ready to begin the process of turning the house into ours.
As I mentioned before, we decided to repaint and fix some damage before moving our stuff in. We knew that it would be difficult to get it done in time considering we need to be totally out of the condo by August 31. But we assumed that it was doable. We've always managed to bust our ass and get stuff done on time.
We bought our house in Utah in the summer of 2003. I was a grad student at the time and had an incredible flexible schedule (and an incredibly understanding advisor). I would work on grad school stuff until lunch and then head to the house. The afternoons were spent doing all the stuff that we needed to get done before painting -- cleaning, taping, sanding, touch-ups, etc. As soon as C got out of work at 5pm, I'd have everything ready to go to start putting paint on the walls. All he had to do was change his clothes and find some motivation. When we finished with that project we figured that I had completed well over half of the work. Probably two-thirds while he did closer to one-third. I didn't mind at all. I loved feeling productive and I knew that it was making the process go so much faster.
Both of us had grand envisions that this project would follow similar suit to the one in 2003. What neither one of us took into consideration was a pregnant woman entering her third trimester and a nasty case of hyperemesis that still likes to flare. I worked almost all day Friday and Saturday: scrubbing walls, floors, kitchen appliances, greasy kitchen cabinets. By the end of both days my ankles were hugely swollen and I could barely walk. But I felt like I was accomplishing something worthwhile. My progress was much slower than 3 years ago and it was obvious that my flexibility has decreased incredibly. For some reason it proves to be much more difficult to be on my hands and knees scrubbing baseboards behind toilets!
Sunday morning rolled around and I felt horrible. Honestly, horrible doesn't even begin to describe it. Even after a full night's rest (at least 7 hrs) my ankles were still incredibly swollen. My ankles, knees, hips, back, arms and shoulders hurt. I could barely roll out of bed or walk to the bathroom. Which I needed to do frequently, because as soon as I opened my eyes Sunday morning the vomiting began. Along with the vomiting came the sickening realization that there was no way in hell we were going to have all of this work done and be ready to move in before the end of August. C would have to do 80% of the work and with him working 40 hours a week, this was going to be difficult. I laid in bed and sobbed for an hour. I was so mad that I couldn't do the same things that I normally could. I was mad that I work so much slower. Most importantly, I was mad because I knew that it meant I was going to have to resign myself to ask for help.
I'm stubborn. Plain and simple. Growing up in a single parent household, my mom taught me to be very independent. She could fix a toilet, wire a garage, change the oil in her car and was always proud of herself for what she could accomplish on her own. I learned how to do many of those same things (minus the electrical wiring) and was also very proud of my autonomy. The flip side of that is that my mom also HATES to ask for help. Despises it. Which has rubbed off on me. It makes me feel like I'm incompetent; it makes me feel like a failure.
After I laid in bed for that hour I finally broke down and asked C to call his mom and see if she could come out for the week and help us. I knew it was the best way to get things accomplished and try to stick to some semblance of a schedule. Fortunately, C rarely asks for help and she was incredibly grateful for the opportunity. She's here now through Sunday to help get the house painted. Which we did start last night by the way, most of the ceilings are done and we can start with wall color this afternoon, hopefully.
I've receive strict instructions from many (my mom, my sister, my father-in-law, every friend that I've talked to and countless web friends as well) that I'm to "take it easy" and let everyone else do the work. I have to admit that I'm taking it more easily than I normally would but I'm still helping. It's not in my nature to sit on my duff and watch everyone else work. I am sticking to lightweight projects though, taking lots of breaks, drinking lots of water and watching my blood pressure.
If it starts to creep up, I promise. I'll start sitting on my duff and watching them work!
I apologize for the lapse in updates over the last week. We got the fence issue resolved on Wednesday afternoon and officially closed that day. Keys in hand, ready to move in. Ready to begin the process of turning the house into ours.
As I mentioned before, we decided to repaint and fix some damage before moving our stuff in. We knew that it would be difficult to get it done in time considering we need to be totally out of the condo by August 31. But we assumed that it was doable. We've always managed to bust our ass and get stuff done on time.
We bought our house in Utah in the summer of 2003. I was a grad student at the time and had an incredible flexible schedule (and an incredibly understanding advisor). I would work on grad school stuff until lunch and then head to the house. The afternoons were spent doing all the stuff that we needed to get done before painting -- cleaning, taping, sanding, touch-ups, etc. As soon as C got out of work at 5pm, I'd have everything ready to go to start putting paint on the walls. All he had to do was change his clothes and find some motivation. When we finished with that project we figured that I had completed well over half of the work. Probably two-thirds while he did closer to one-third. I didn't mind at all. I loved feeling productive and I knew that it was making the process go so much faster.
Both of us had grand envisions that this project would follow similar suit to the one in 2003. What neither one of us took into consideration was a pregnant woman entering her third trimester and a nasty case of hyperemesis that still likes to flare. I worked almost all day Friday and Saturday: scrubbing walls, floors, kitchen appliances, greasy kitchen cabinets. By the end of both days my ankles were hugely swollen and I could barely walk. But I felt like I was accomplishing something worthwhile. My progress was much slower than 3 years ago and it was obvious that my flexibility has decreased incredibly. For some reason it proves to be much more difficult to be on my hands and knees scrubbing baseboards behind toilets!
Sunday morning rolled around and I felt horrible. Honestly, horrible doesn't even begin to describe it. Even after a full night's rest (at least 7 hrs) my ankles were still incredibly swollen. My ankles, knees, hips, back, arms and shoulders hurt. I could barely roll out of bed or walk to the bathroom. Which I needed to do frequently, because as soon as I opened my eyes Sunday morning the vomiting began. Along with the vomiting came the sickening realization that there was no way in hell we were going to have all of this work done and be ready to move in before the end of August. C would have to do 80% of the work and with him working 40 hours a week, this was going to be difficult. I laid in bed and sobbed for an hour. I was so mad that I couldn't do the same things that I normally could. I was mad that I work so much slower. Most importantly, I was mad because I knew that it meant I was going to have to resign myself to ask for help.
I'm stubborn. Plain and simple. Growing up in a single parent household, my mom taught me to be very independent. She could fix a toilet, wire a garage, change the oil in her car and was always proud of herself for what she could accomplish on her own. I learned how to do many of those same things (minus the electrical wiring) and was also very proud of my autonomy. The flip side of that is that my mom also HATES to ask for help. Despises it. Which has rubbed off on me. It makes me feel like I'm incompetent; it makes me feel like a failure.
After I laid in bed for that hour I finally broke down and asked C to call his mom and see if she could come out for the week and help us. I knew it was the best way to get things accomplished and try to stick to some semblance of a schedule. Fortunately, C rarely asks for help and she was incredibly grateful for the opportunity. She's here now through Sunday to help get the house painted. Which we did start last night by the way, most of the ceilings are done and we can start with wall color this afternoon, hopefully.
I've receive strict instructions from many (my mom, my sister, my father-in-law, every friend that I've talked to and countless web friends as well) that I'm to "take it easy" and let everyone else do the work. I have to admit that I'm taking it more easily than I normally would but I'm still helping. It's not in my nature to sit on my duff and watch everyone else work. I am sticking to lightweight projects though, taking lots of breaks, drinking lots of water and watching my blood pressure.
If it starts to creep up, I promise. I'll start sitting on my duff and watching them work!
4 comments:
Got your msg,sorry I missed you. I would have flown out there to help in a heartbeat if I could. :( I know it's so tough for you not to be in total control of everything, just remember there's a reason you're taking it easy. Let your energy go into taking care of that little baby! I guess now is a good time to be thankful you've got a MIL who can help out like this when you finally do ask for help. Try to stay off your feet at least till the swelling reduces a little!! Love ya. (((hugs)))
Sometimes it's okay to lose a bit of control and autonomy - (yeah I know this coming from me) So I hope the projects go smoothly, the painting gets done and that all gets moved into the new house quickly and enjoy the a/c. Hope the swelling goes down bit by bit and that all goes well with the transition. You know I'd be there if i could as well... darn work :)
I'm so glad that Debbie could come out to help. I wish I had the time from work so that I could too, I'd be there in a heartbeat. I've been so worried about you! It's a relief knowing you aren't in there trying to get it all done yourself.
Maybe that example of independence you learned was a curse instead of a blessing. :) luv you
I cant imagine. We desperately need to move but I have been sick this whole pregnancy and I knew there was no way we could do it so I give you props for that. I am also entering the 3rd tri and I am still vomiting and feel awful.
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