Friday, alas. And time for my weekly (or every-other-weekly as the case may be) update on the Happy Headache (i.e. the untimely-given-the-recession-gut-reno of our new place). Things are chugging along. Yesterday, Husband and I met with the architects and contractors at the new place and believe it or not, the structural framing is beginning to go up. This means our lovely blank slate of nothingness is becoming, well, something. Rooms. We were able to see the shapes and sizes of rooms. And it was but a steel-traced box on the floor, but we were able to see our shower! The place where I will likely get clean for the foreseeable future rest of my life!
Suddenly, this hypothetical home is becoming a real home. Yes, we've had blueprints and plans for over a year now (and, sorry to disappoint, but the pic above is not our home), but seeing it take shape, visualizing the anatomy of our new abode makes it seem real for the first time. This reminded me of my pregnancies. My pregnancies? Yes, bear with me. In the first few months, I'd clutch those glorious ultrasounds in my hand and Husband and I would marvel at the soft slope of a nose, a tiny thumb, the skinny frog legs. And we'd be excited. But the anticipation was in many ways theoretical for me. Until. Until one of those skinny legs kicked me and I felt it. Yes, those very first flutters. The movement. The proof of form. Evidence of life. It wasn't until I felt movement, and then saw it - a fist or foot - bulging from my side, that I really believed it.
So, yesterday, I became a believer. Got that proverbial kick in the gut. Saw and felt new life taking shape. This is happening!