We have a brand spanking new house. This is actually our third brand new house, but this one was an extended two year test of patience (which I absolutely failed most days). The stress of this house brought me to my breaking point, repeatedly, and affected many aspects of my life… job, friendship, parenting… my subbie mind was overwhelmed in the worst possible way. We moved the end of November, started on Thanksgiving, actually. For months and months, everything was quite taxing… every new day seemed to add more worry and struggle.
We made it through, mostly, and this house finally feels like home… but we’ve still been in that “walking on eggshells” phase. You know, that thing where a slight blemish on the wall requires immediate paint, mopping is still sort of fun, and it takes weeks to hang anything on the wall because those are permanent HOLES, man!
Maybe you don’t know this insanity, but this is how we do –
Until we don’t.
The other morning I was completing a task for Sir – a chore, nothing sexy – when I dropped a nearly full bottle of Bailey’s on the floor. The glass obliterated into a million little shards, and the liquor spilled everywhere. After about thirty minutes of cleaning the mess, I saw it…
A chip in the floor tile right in front of the sink.
I cried. Of course I did.
I took one step on the path of “I fuck everything up” and then took off running: “Not only the tile, I fuck everything up – relationships, words, feelings…”
I texted Sir a picture of the mess and told Him I chipped the tile. I apologized and I cried until He replied.
You know what? He didn’t even care. His only concern was that I was okay and hadn’t cut myself.
So I inhaled.
I held the air in for a bit, thinking all the ugly things about myself, but then…
I exhaled and I let it go!
I said, outloud, to myself…
Fuck it. We really live here now.
🙂 little steps, happy little steps.