It seems I am not cut out for this tense waiting business.
I am a bundle of nervous energy.
I went and spent the day with Patchouli! and Spawn #1 and #2 today. Spawn #2 is now three months old and he is chubbalicious and sweet and smiley and delightful. Spawn #1 is suffering badly from the green eyed monsters and displays his distaste for the state of affairs by quite weird and erratic behaviour. It’s a hard gig this Auntie business. I adore my nephews and feel very close to them but that leads to the temptation to tell Spawn #1 off when he is being aggressive and bizarre and that would not help at the moment. Poor little guy. He is giving Patchouli! a run for her money. She is finding it all a bit much and feels a failure as a mother. She is, of course, a wonderful mother and Spawn #1 is a gorgeous boy who is just finding life a bit hard to deal with at the moment. New babies suck the way they take all of Mummy and Daddy’s attention. You can see his little mind is crying out “Usurper!” but he is very sweet with his brother, poor little man.
Where was I?
Oh, the house, yes. We have not heard from the agent. Well, actually, she accidentally called tonight (meant to dial someone else) and told Beefcake to hang in there as the vendors are still “mulling it over”. This is good as it means, at least, that they have not said no to our offer. They are considering it. There is hope.
I think about it constantly. I have planned the kitchen (it needs a new one as soon as we move in because the current one consists of a stove and two cupboards) and priced the appliances I would like to buy. I have planned where all of the furniture will go and priced some built-in storage we would need in part of the house. I have chosen paint colours for some of the things I would like to change. It is not good. My poor little mind is struggling with the concept that they may refuse our offer. Beefcake is this close (about a milimetre) to telling me to be quiet. I am making him nervous. He is doing a remarkable job of going about his business and not worrying about it. I am reminding him every five seconds by messaging him links to an oven I like or a kitchen I think is shiny and pretty. He has told me I need to calm down.
I am trying but it is sooooooo exciting.
I shall fall apart if we don’t get it.
I can not be mature about it.
I shall simply collapse in a heap.
Somebody tell me something mature. Make me be a grown-up. I’m embarrassing myself.