We were supposed to be back in our house for Christmas. That was the plan. I moved out almost two weeks ago so that walls and trim could be painted, our gorgeous new beadboard ceilings could be sealed, and new hardwood floors could be installed, sanded and finished. All with the expectation that we would move back in THIS WEEK, over the next few days, and then we'd put up a tree at the last minute and have a lovely Christmas in our newly renovated house.
It's not going to happen. The floor guys got behind by a day, so instead of the floors being done on Friday and being able to cure over the weekend, they have to come back on Monday to finish up. Everything else is behind, too, including T., who is in overdrive trying to get projects done for clients before the holidays. T. was supposed to be buttoning up odds and ends at our house this weekend. Instead, since the floor guys are behind, he's working all weekend on a client project that's taking longer than expected. And, the client wants him to do extra work next week, which again will take him from working on getting our house together even once the floors are done. He'll get paid, of course, but at this point, money is worth less to me than sleeping in my own house, in my own bed, near my own hospital.
Instead, we are at my MIL's. Don't get me wrong-I am grateful that she's letting us stay, complete with our entire menagerie. Her home is lovely, and we have a gorgeous suite on the second floor of her house. I wake up each morning overlooking a breathtakingly beautiful lake. There is usually dinner on the table when I get home from work. I know that it could be MUCH worse.
But, I don't want to be here. MIL had surgery a couple of months ago and is still recovering, and isn't really in a festive holiday mood (pain med weaning makes her downright grouchy, actually, which is a far cry from her normal personality). There is no Christmas tree here. It's just not happy space for me, and three weeks from my due date, I NEED happy space. Now add in that we are an hour from home (and my hospital), and the hospital nearby here recently got rid of their maternity ward. No OB's, no NICU. And my nursery at home isn't anywhere close to ready-none of the baby stuff is washed, and I don't have the carseat installed or the hospital bag packed. In fact, neither is even here with me. That stuff is all packed away in storage for the time being. I'm supposed to be nesting and enjoying the holidays, and neither is happening.
I was doing okay with all of this chaos until T. just came home and started discussing Christmas plans, in front of his mother, without giving me fair warning that he doesn't plan on us being home for Christmas. He's hinted over the last few days aboit this prospect, but truthfully, I didn't take it seriously.
If we stay here for Christmas, we'll also be stuck going to Christmas with T's family, because everyone is getting together here. My family is all an hour away from here, and there are numerous events scattered throughout Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and Christmas night. Normally, we'd come up here to see T's family for a few hours on Christmas day, and then go to my family festivities as they occurred. But, we can't keep going back and forth between here and where we (and my family) live for all of the events-it would be too much to drive down Christmas Eve, then back, then back down Christmas morning, then back, then back down Christmas night. So we won't be able to attend everything, as we normally do. It's not so much missing things that bothers me--I had left the door open for us to actually spend much of Christmas at home, depending on how I felt, but that option seems to be out the door. It's that at my own house, Christmas would be warm and cozy, even if we cut back on our usual activities. Here, though, it will be depressing and un-Christmaslike.
This is in large part because Christmas is supposed to be held at T's brother's house, which is near my MIL's. There are lots of reasons why it won't be a happy Christmas there, including that his house is ALSO under renovation, there is little furniture that will be comfortable for me to sit on, he refuses to turn the heat above 60 (and it's well below freezing here), and Christmas dinner is going to be cold cuts (seriously...it's a long story about why). COLD CUTS. I can't even eat cold cuts. Oh, and then there are the highly dysfunctional people who will be in attendance-the niece who used drugs through the first three months of her pregnancy (she's four months along), but oh-hey-the baby is fine-'cause her doctor says that if the drugs had hurt the baby, she would've miscarried by now. The nephew who has a full ride to college, but has decided to drop out mid-year and hang out with his loser high school buddies here, instead, where there are no jobs and no opportunities. I could go on about the other dysfunctionals, but you get the idea. It's not my happy place.
Side rant: I don't think I can see the niece. Not after what we've been through to have our baby, not after what so many of you have been through. She knew she was pregnant, and she was using anyway. Yet, her mother thinks it's the greatest thing ever, and my MIL was bragging today abouit having her first great-grandchild on the way. The first comment that I hear at Christmas about this idiotic kid having a baby at the same time as us is going to send me over the edge. I can't bear to hear people talk about how great it will be to have two babies in the family. She is a complete trainwreck, with no job, no education, mental health issues, and substance abuse issues. I don't think I can do it, not even for a little while. I'm pissed at her for getting pregnant when she can't even take care of herself, and I'm pissed at her about the drugs. And, I'm pissed that the family seems to actually believe that the baby isn't at risk of damage from the drugs, and has bought into the crazy-assed theory that she would've miscarried by now. Ever heard of fetal alcohol syndrome? Crack babies?
I just want to go home. My home. I want to get ready for my baby. I want the peace of my own house and my own holidays. I know so many people have it far worse than me this holiday season, and I know I have so much to be thankful for. But I really need my own space back right now.