The deadline is here and gone...my thoughts?

It's Friday the 9th.

In the beginning, the deadline for the house to be move-in ready was "sometime in October."

Then as the summer passed and we were up to our necks in remodel it turned into "the end of October."

Then it was "welllllllll, hopefully by the 31st of October."

Then a couple of weeks ago, I was fed up with not knowing and pinned the guys down to Friday, November 9th. We will be moving in that week-end I said. We've got people coming to visit by golly!

That date was today and the house is not done. It's close...but no cigar.

There is still a list of a few things that need to be done. They need to install the dishwasher, build the wine rack, hang the table over the washer and dryer, and caulk all the sinks. The garage door hasn't been fixed and the stonework on the back flower bed needs to be re-mortared. They will hang the TVs and fix the office doorknob that I broke. The plumber will install the rest of the faucets and hook up the icemaker. And that pesky door hardware still hasn't arrived. But because it is pretty darn close, we are gonna go ahead and start moving in this weekend. We by no means have any intention of finishing, or even sleeping there yet. But we will start.

It's been a heckuva week. I've made so many trips to various hardware stores and big box stores to pick up last minute, totally forgotten about items that I honestly can't even count. I'm still unsure why some of this responsibility lies on me, but it does. It's amazing how something as simple as running to the store for lightbulbs can be such a difficult task between feeding and napping and nursing and dressing and car-seating 3 kiddos. BUT it's worth it...we are so close!!!

People are constantly asking me if I'm excited and I have a hard time answering them. I know that I am supposed to say "YES! I can't wait! This is all so wonderful and we are finally there and yaddy yadda" because if I don't say that I sound ungrateful and negative. But I honestly don't know what I feel. I mean there are tons of negative ones on the surface. I definitely have feelings of being overwhelmed, of dreading moving, of worry that it won't look good once we get our furniture in, and those of anxiety over UNpacking. But excitement? I can't place it. I am so looking forward to seeing my babies grow up in that house. With the progress made this last week, I am almost to the point where I can even picture us there. I can't believe that I get to live in a house where I picked out nearly every single design element of. But I still don't know if I'm excited. I feel almost reverent about it. Like I need to take a deep breath and hold a moment of silence. This is the house my grandmother designed. Just like I have over the last 11 months she too poured over fabric samples and color swatches and furniture choices. She stayed up late thinking about the finish on her faucets and towel bars and which light fixture she would want over the sink. She probably spent way too much money on silk curtains and boy did she love her counter tops. She hand picked out every little design element...and then 40 years later I changed it ALL. Is it the same house? Well yes. Do I know that she is so proud of me for what we've done. Most definitely. But I feel so strangely connected to her. Not because I'm about to move into her house...but because I've poured just as much of myself into this stone and mortar structure as she did all those years ago.

So, am I excited? Not really.

I'm ready. I'm honored. I'm nervous about unloading boxes and finding the perfect place for everything and organizing ALL those cabinets and decorating my babies' rooms. But most of all I'm hopeful that through this crazy process that has consumed so much of my life I've been able to create a place where my kids and my grandkids will feel at home.