This conversation took place on January 13, 2010.
The hormones were beginning to kick up considerably (as evidenced by my tears while watching a TiVoed makeover episode of Oprah earlier in the day–the reason: I already look worse than the “before” pictures of these women and there’s no end in sight).
We had received an estimate for continuing the hardwood flooring that was considerably higher than I’d thought it would be because I didn’t take into account that there’s no way to match wood without sanding and staining everything at the same time. Read: we would be out of our house for about a week and a half and our bank account would be out a considerable amount of money that we need to save to buy the van that is becoming necessary so that I can put Liam in a car seat and extract myself from the vehicle without the aid of the jaws of life. Plus there’s the: oh-my-goodness-we-are-going-to-have-two-children-and-where-are-we-going-to-put-the-carseats-in-my-Civic?
The result?
Matt and I hemmed and hawed for about 30 minutes about different options that would still open up the room and make it into usable space. We tried to get creative. I ended up in tears. Here’s an excerpt from the end of the conversation:
Shannon: I just need for the house to be settled. I need to have a plan for what’s going to happen because I don’t have any control over whether my sensitive bits will be ripped apart, about whether I’ll be able to sit down without screaming for months on end, or whether I’ll die in childbirth and then you’ll want to have a settled house to bring home the new baby that you’ll have to raise on your own while also raising Liam. You’ll need to have a settled house in order to do that. I don’t want to leave you in the lurch.
Matt:Â If you die in childbirth I’ll move back to Decatur and it won’t matter anyway.
Shannon: I guess that would be okay. Liam won’t have a mom but he’ll be able to go to an elementary school with big windows and a principal who knows everyone’s name by the end of the day.
Matt:Â Principals don’t know the kids’ names by the end of the day.
Shannon: My principal did. What was wrong with the Winnona Park principal?
Matt: Nothing. That’s not something principals do.
Shannon: Mrs. Greene did. Our children are not allowed to go to Winnona Park where the principal doesn’t know all the kids’ names. They must go to Clairemont. They can only go to Clairemont.
Matt:Â Didn’t they close Clairemont?
Shannon: NO! They closed Westchester. They will never close Clairemont. They can’t close my school.
[Pause to sob and try to breathe.]
Shannon: Now I need for you to make up some graph paper so we can come up with a solution to the “bonus room” issue. Right now. I need graph paper and a to-scale rendition of the table and chairs immediately.
Matt: Okay. I’m going to make graph paper and table and chairs right now so you can brainstorm.
[About 15 minutes pass and he brings me the graph paper and to-scale table and chairs and leaves to work in the kitchen. He comes back about 30 minutes later.]
Matt:Â So what did you come up with, brainstorming-wise?
Shannon: Nothing, yet. I was busy writing this blog post that I can’t publish until after we’re telling people that I’m pregnant.
Matt:Â Um…Yes, Dear.
