almost homewritten by alison
It’s hard to believe that in one week we’ll be loading up the U-Haul and getting ready to finally go home. The home that the boy and I have been working towards since January of this year. The home that we had to pick every single finish, fixture and outlet placement. Our home.
Survival of the Fittest
I’m a believer in natural selection. Which is why this process has proven to me that I am worthy of survival. I regularly check for gray hairs because I’m convinced that I have lost years of my life just by making the choice to build a house, little alone go through with it. But I’m still here and just as sassy as always.
It’s no secret that I’m a bit dramatic. But even I could not have imagined half of the drama that would have unfolded in constructing 1636. This morning featured a conference call with me explaining to our builders that they ordered the second wrong door for my office. We have one week to move in, but they have spent over 3 months managing to order 3 wrong doors for the house. And that’s a small detail – except to me.
Pair that with the 5-digits of unexpected expenses that we got to pay out-of-pocket, the $1,000 feature window being put into place 3 feet higher than planned, the front door not being framed in the center of the house, the concrete footings poured in the wrong place, the basement beam lined up incorrectly, the first floor support beam being mounted too high, the cabinets being ordered with the wrong finishes, the tile being laid improperly in the powder room, the closet door being installed backwards, the wrong fridge being ordered making our kitchen break standard residential code, the tub surround being installed in the wrong place + the exterior doors being painted the wrong color and you’ll understand why this experience has stressed me out.
Crying is Allowed
It’s not all bad, as much as I may seem to say otherwise. The first time that I saw our kitchen with cabinets in place, I cried. I was just so thrilled to see what I had been daydreaming about finally coming to life in front of me. The details were better than I imagined and the feeling of standing in the middle of something you conceptualized and fought for is unlike many feelings I have felt before.
That pride got even better when the countertop and appliances started to be put in their places. When our belongings are put in the cupboards + Brutus’s bowls are nestled somewhere that I can’t slip on the drool trails, I can bet I’ll need a solid 90 seconds to just breathe. To soak the reality in. To enjoy the result of months of emotion, stress and late nights.
Want to know what the best part is? That I can take as many of those 90 second breaks as I want, because I’ll be in my very own house with my favorite boys in the entire world. As long as I survive these final 7 days.