This here house is causing me me equal parts delight and anxiety.
I want to hang geraniums from those chains you see and a porch swing in the corner.
I want to have dinner parties on the screened in porch out back and tuck my kids to sleep in the sweet little rooms upstairs.
This is where I want to play with Sena, Gus, and Arlo, and maybe bring home a fourth baby one day.
It's where I want to invite friends over for cocktails and where I want to host sleep-overs in the basement.
But right now, it is the cause of so much anxiety, trying to get loans and bids and contracts in order. Right now, it makes Sena sick to her stomach every time she thinks about moving a mile away from her grandparents, who have always been just across the yard.
Right now it is the reason that Tom and I are snapping at each other while we try to find W2's and pay stubs and so many other little slips of paper that we never seem to be able to hold on to. Right now, I think Tom and I wish that one of us was a type A personality.