Boxes and breakdowns.

by slutsunlimited

July 3rd, 2013

19 weeks pregnant.



So I actually bought a motherfucking house! I’m still having a hard time believing that I was able to make such a large purchase. Up until the very last document was signed, I think both Andy and I were fearful someone would snatch the papers away and proclaim, “We’ve made a terrible mistake.” But alas, that didn’t happen and now I am a very proud homeowner. I owe a lot of thanks to both Andy and our realtor Adrienne. I couldn’t have done this without them. The process of purchasing the house involved a lot more paperwork than I expected.  While I would like to say that I completely understood everything that I was signing, after over 45 minutes I stopped paying as much attention as I probably should have. I do remember, however, that if you are on the government watch list, you cannot purchase a home.  I’m saving that tidbit for Jeopardy.


Now that the colossal amount of tension regarding the purchase of the home has been behind me for a few days, I’ve found a new way to fill that void – anxiety about moving. I started doing some minor packing before the act of sale, but didn’t want to jinx the sale by packing everything with certainty. So I was filled with a mixture of shock, delight and fear about having to not only finish packing all my stuff, but also getting it transported into a multi-level house.  I think my first outward expression of this anxiety occurred when Andy and Lee Kyle were helping me pack the few first boxes. They were doing their best to adhere to my guidelines on packing and things were moving along and then all of a sudden I found myself frustrated with Andy for no apparent reason. This frustration quickly developed into me expressing how his laissez-faire attitude toward packing was driving me fucking insane. Often Andy’s cool demeanor is a much-needed compliment to my “passionate” reactions, but every so often it becomes borderline patronizing when I am feeling overwhelmed and he is non-reactionary. Not that two crazy people make a right, but a little empathy goes a long way. Anyhow, I think this was the first time that Lee Kyle saw me lose my shit. I’m certain it won’t be the last.

There were quite a few factors contributing to my initial feelings of anxiety about the move. The first was simple enough. I had lived on N. Rampart Street for over eight years. Needless to say I’d become very comfortable and happy in this neighborhood. Giving up the familiarity of my immediate surroundings has been a daunting thought, although I must admit that my happiness has decreased over the past year in this location due to the continued popularity and price increases across the neighborhood. As rents have continued to go up, so has the entitlement of the person paying the high price. I suppose that if I were paying over $1500 for a half a shotgun then I would be frustrated if I could never find parking, too. But, guess what? The streets are public. The sheer amount of stink-eyed looks I’ve seen in the last few months from people whom I don’t even know has helped to smooth the transition of leaving. That being said, I knew I would still miss being able to simply walk to Flanagan’s or the Co-op without needing to move my vehicle an inch.

My second emotional hold up concerns accepting the physical limitations of pregnancy. I would have to say that beyond the awful morning sickness that overtook my life for the first few months, this has been my hardest struggle. I am extremely stubborn when it comes to understanding that I can’t always do what I want to do at that very moment. The idea of having to very heavily rely on other people to do the majority of the physical work involved in moving my things was really weighing on my mind. My close friends tried to explain that most people wouldn’t mind helping me, especially because it wasn’t like my limited involvement was due to laziness, but still that didn’t make me feel much better. Jackie had stated before that learning to accept help from others would probably be the biggest lesson of my pregnancy and early parenthood and I believe that she is correct.

Once we had the keys to the new place, I set about organizing a cleaning team so that we could get the entire house taken care of over this past weekend. Thankfully a good group of my core lady friends, including my cousin, offered to help with all the scrubbing. I was nothing short of amazed at all that we were able to get accomplished in one day. Thankfully the previous owners had taken really good care of the house, so it wasn’t very dirty to begin with. I am also counting my lucky stars that they had very similar taste to my own when it came to paint colors. We really have very little to change, which is comforting considering my physical limitations.


After a full day of cleaning the house, Andy and I were happy to escape to see Dave Attell perform at One Eyed Jacks. He has been one of my favorite comics since I first heard his standup in my early twenties. In fact I used to own a CD of his stuff and played it until it finally stopped working. He didn’t disappoint. Andy and I laughed so hard that I felt like I had been to a fucking Pilates class. It was the perfect relief that we needed after a very long and stressful week worrying over the fate of our new home. It was also really nice to go out to a bar and be social. I had forgotten how long it had been since I had actually gone out on a Saturday night. Hello parenthood.

In order to continue our transition into understanding life as parents, Andy and I began childbirth classes this past Monday. We signed up for an eight week class called “Calm and Confident Childbirth” that happens in 2 hour blocks at Touro Infirmary. I was a bit skeptical as to whether or not we would like the class, just based on the attendance of other pregnancy classes, but it turned out that we really like it. I think it is good for both of us to be around other pregnant couples who may be experiencing some of the same things we are going through. Daisy and Mike, two friends of ours, are also attending these classes. Daisy works at Andy’s bar and she is due four days before me. We joke that we will probably end up in the hospital at the same time. Although I didn’t really learn anything new in the first class (because I have become an avid reader of pregnancy books – nerd alert), I still found the class to be extremely useful, if for no other reason than for Andy to hear a person of some authority back up some of the crazy shit that I’ve already mentioned. “Nipple stimulation can help with a stalled labor.” See, now I don’t sound like a total nut case.