This Is My Home.

 A few months back, we started to realize that our downstairs, our ENTIRE downstairs, was taking on water under the floors, through a crack in the foundation pouring in to the Little Man's room. A few weeks ago, we came to the conclusion that this had to be fixed asap, and the kids and I began planning our escape from what was going to be two weeks of living in a construction zone. At the time I really wasn't concerned. February break was upon us, and I couldn't think of a better reason to spend some quality time in the country with my in-laws. During the first few meetings regarding the construction, everything was treated as if it was no big deal. Then, on Wednesday, the reality set in. At first I was under the impression that nothing need to be packed, at least by me, and I learned late in the afternoon that essentially EVERYTHING needed to be packed, and our entire downstairs needed to be moved upstairs. Oh, and by the way, this all needed to be done within 36 hours. Did I mention that every minute (second) of those 36 hours was already insanely packed with to-dos to begin with. 

Cut to me freaking out. 

It was, and still is, a mystery how we are going to fit 1,000 sq feet of our furnished living space, in 700 square feet of heavily furnished living space. It makes my head hurt just thinking about it. The best part is, that in 10 days we have to come back to the chaos, and add in myself and the two kids. We may or may not have anywhere to sleep, and we cannot predict what the state of our home is going to be.

Basically the whole thing sucks, and all I want to do every minute of the day is this:


BUT I know I have to put my big girl pants on, and yes, things could be worse, so for the next month, I have to kick my controlling/ clean freak tendencies to the curb, and find a way for the kids and I to navigate this "adventure" will the least amount of disruption to their lives.

Yet, I still can't believe that this is the current state of my home. 

Every picture is gone, every piece of clothing packed, and unlike with a move, it all has to go back exactly where is started, with no exciting remodel to look forward to. 

AND it's a freaking mess.

I will not cry. I will not cray

... in about two hours men are coming to take apart every piece of furniture that remains. I honestly can't bear the thought. 

Hope you all are faring better than we are. We leave Saturday for our trip, and I'll try to post as much as the internet allows from the middle of a corn field.