ok, let's breathe

After reading my last post, one may have gotten the impression that we Johnsons are living it up and vacationing like mad this summer. Our 3-day stint up north was so lovely, but, like so many vacations, it seems so long ago. Since we've gotten back, life has been crazy. We were able to cross off "find renters" from our to-do list, but it seems that for every item we cross off our list, we're able to come up with five other tasks that need to be completed. *Excuse me while I breathe into a brown paper bag.*

We haven't moved since changing residence from an apartment to our twin home seven or however many years ago. Back then we had one couch, a tv, a small kitchen table with 4 chairs, a computer desk, a coffee table, one bed (no nightstands or bed frame), one dresser, a few boxes of clothes, kitchen stuff, and maybe one end table. Easy peasy pie. Fast forward to now: a two-year-old that comes with a crib, dresser, totes of clothes, toys, books, baby gear; three couches, one armchair, one coffee table, three end tables, three lamps, a console table, a dining room hutch; camping and ski stuff Brett has accumulated over the last few years; two bookshelves overflowing with books; accumulated kitchen stuff; china and more wine glasses and bar-y stuff we have added, and lots more artwork we have "collected" since then. Oh, also I'm pregnant and a hormonal hot mess (wait, do I have to be hot to qualify as a hot mess? That term confuses me), Brett is the absolute busiest he's ever been in his career thus far (by the way, he'll be in San Francisco for three days this week, and he'll be out of town shortly after we move, too - woo hoo - that was a sarcastic woo-hoo), we've had to find renters and get our house ready (it's still not ready - have to patch up artwork nail holes, seal the driveway, do some more misc. yard work, and some other stuff I'm forgetting), and Brett has had to load up our lawn mower twice to go mow the lawn at the new house in addition to mowing this lawn. Add a sick Stella who is also getting some more molars in this past week, and you've got a stressed-out household.

When Brett had to stay late last Thursday night at work (he and his boss had a dinner meeting with potential clients) and then until midnight the following night (he and his boss had to prepare and tweak a presentation they are giving in CA next week), and after Stella had been waking up at 5:30 a.m. for three days in a row, I thought I was going to lose it. My nausea came back from stress, and I took Zofran one evening. Thankfully after a helpful sermon on Sunday, Brett telling me to go take some time for myself while he watched Stella, Brett working in the church nursery in my place yesterday so I could hear the sermon, and also taking Stella for a few hours so I could have lunch with my mom, sister, and sister-in-law at West End followed by a delightful browsing sesh in Anthro, plus telling me to go get that pedicure I have been needing, I think I am starting to see the light. (Oh, and when I called him after my pedicure to tell him I was going to pick up some stuff at Target, he asked me what color I chose for polish. He was genuinely interested, and for some reason, that really touched me - lol - pregnancy hormones much?) We also planned out which days we were going to get some of the bigger projects done. Oh, and we have a moving date: Saturday, July 27th. I'm going to try to start organizing and packing what I can while he's gone (he already started packing up books and heavier stuff). I woke up feeling more confident that we can get everything done by the 27th (we will also have to do stuff Sunday the 28th, and then the renters move in Monday, the 29th).

I don't like writing a lot of churchy stuff on here, but I can't hide the fact that my faith is a huge part of my life - I mean, it is my life. Reminders to not worry, but to instead trust God for the stress in my life, have been all up in my face over the weekend. I have been trying to do this all on my own, which is wrong. In the fear that I'll crack under the pressure of these past couple weeks and looking forward to the insanity that is coming soon, I've had to do a lot of soul-searching, and I think I'm inching closer to a place of peace.

One of the mornings Stella was up at 5:20 or so, so we brought her into bed with us, and she cuddled with us. After a few minutes, she sat up and said, "Stella pray 'a feel better,"and before I could say anything, she folded her hands, bowed her head, and prayed, "Dear Father, please help Stella 'a feel better. Amen." She has requested prayer or started praying for herself to feel better at least three times since last week. Just today while we were running errands, a little voice from the back seat suggested, "Let's pray."

In addition to handing over my anxiety to God, I really want to re-commit myself to eating healthy and trying to take a walk every day. And praying to my "dear Father 'a feel better." And breathing.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.