*cartoon by mistertoast.blogspot.comYesterday was pretty intense in mamaland. Heck, it was hard in ladyland! We are finally moving to a 2BR garden suite, but to do so, everything is in overdrive, which I realize happens when you move. I, however, have only moved once as an adult - from the comforts of my parents' home to a new place with my at-the-time boyfriend, who is now my husband and daddy to Owen. And I'm a bit of a spazz.
The landlady, bless her Eastern European heart, is a dear and didn't want to risk making me or Owen sick with her cold ("I have it since one Aprrrril. God Forrrrbid you get seeck!"), so she asked me if I could show the apartment at 5:30. No problem! It was only 9:30 and I had already started the mountain of laundry.
Oh, wait. The garbages haven't been taken out. The recycling hasn't been sorted and taken out. There is wet laundry hanging in the bathroom. The Diaper Genie stinks. There are dishes on the counter and dishes to be put away. There are toys all over the place. Addresses need to be changed online and on the phone (can we talk about the horrible customer service across this great land? Gawd.). Oh, and then there's the little matter of my little man, who kind of spent too many half-hour increments in his crib so that I could manage to do all these things. And then the worst thing happened - Olga asked me to show the apartment to someone at 11:30. In an hour an half. With all this stuff to do. But I did it.
I did have a mini breakdown and call my mum for a pep talk. Thankfully my best friend came to the rescue and entertained Owen while I did all the chores and showed the apartment to the possible new tenant (who took the apartment). It was just one of those days, and I didn't even get a bubble bath at the end of it.
