home sweet frickin' home

I'm SO overwhelmed by my house. We want to get out of this tiny place, but there is so much to do before it can go on the market, I don't know where to start. And it seems like there's never time to do anything anyway. Shall I start a list?

• Finish molding around flooring
• Replace countertops
• Get rid of cats...
• Fix cat bathroom, including the ceiling, walls, and vainty
• Find a way to bleach grout in all 3 bathrooms
• Repaper both downstairs bathrooms with paintable wallpaper
• Paint like everywhere
• Fix ceiling in several rooms (tape's coming off edges)
• Fix dry wall tape in several rooms
• Paint shed
• Fix some too tight doors
• Store a whole bunch of junk that is cluttering the closets
• Re-carpet later on
• The list goes on....

See what I mean??  Almost all of this is impossible for me to do alone and Jake's gone so much. Not that I'm not happy with him, I'm just frustrated with this.

On a different note, watching Law and Order SVU and they just discovered an incest situation that begat a baby... ew...

 Sooo anyways... sitting on my couch staring at a crack going down the wall that will need to be plastered. *sigh*

Tomorrow

Tomorrow we're taking Braeden to get his ticker checked out. I keep hearing (and mechanically repeating) "it's probably nothing", but the other possibilities, however minute, are haunting my thoughts. It's hard to talk to my husband about it, he thinks I shouldn't worry.  Maybe I shouldn't. But, um... I guess I can't help it?!

Here's the thing, I think about my baby being taken from me constantly. If Jake and I are upstairs with Braeden and he takes him downstairs, I hold my breath to hear every footstep, expecting that slip and fall. Little circumstances like that happen quite often in my week. 

I've been trying to avoid talking about it. What's sad is when it's brought up, like at church 20 times this morning, I feel the need to belittle the situation, to smooth it over. I don't know why, if it's to make the other person feel okay, since we don't know anything yet.

So there it is, what's so hard to say out loud. Maybe it is pathetically premature to worry, but I'm his Mama and I have the right.

Dare I?

It's an interesting thing to blog. To me, opening a window with limitless capacity for thought leads to worry. If I don't just open up my heart and lay out my thoughts, am I wasting my time time starting this blog? Aren't I just cheating myself?  If I do... who will read it?  Will I end up eating my words?

It seems bold, putting one's thoughts into written word. Guess it's time to roll the dice and step out!