We have lived in this house for over 5 years now. We bought it with a view to renovate it in all of our spare time.
Then we had a reflux baby.
What spare time? The need to paint walls was quickly replaced with the need to be continually mopping the vomit that slopped up the walls, floor and my hair. I cannot forget my hair. Not that I ever mopped my hair, but I did consider that the mop bucket water had less vomit in it than my locks did.
So we bought this house with a view to making it into a palace. And it didn’t happen. Or hasn’t happened yet. All the while I have continually kept saying that I would like to swap the lounge and dining rooms over. The whole idea always fell on deaf ears, but I was persistent.
Last week living in our run down shack was an incredibly challenging one. Mr MMM is currently pulling some crazy arse hours and for me trying to hold the fort at home while some emotionally charged events took place was .. you know… hard.
I cried a few times as a prior post suggested.
I am sure you can imagine my surprise this afternoon when I came home from a run to discover my dream of swapping the two rooms over was well underway. The house looked like a tip but hey … the furniture in each room was being moved.
D Man was tearing through the house wearing Sir Fergus’s helmet and there was excitement in the air. 5 years of asking right there and then..happening.
To suggest I was shocked is to say the least. I basically fell off my unicorn.
In fact, I will go as far as to say my unicorn was shitting rainbows in ecstasy.
This evening has been pure delight sitting in front of the fire, scoffing coffee and hazelnut liquor ice cream ; even if the room is a little smaller. Cosy. Airy, more light. Just right.
The kids love it. Even Mr MMM admitted we should have done it years ago. (To which I had to pull back on my unicorn’s reigns so he wouldn’t rear up in front of MR MMM or worse still stab him with his horn.)
Alas .. now to come to terms with it possibly taking another 5 years to get the walls painted.