I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling since we moved in. I am in love with this house. And the things that make me happiest are things I took totally for granted when I had them. It’s funny how luxurious the little things seem when you’ve lived without them for so long. I’ve noticed this holds true for Olive, as well as for me.
Case in point, every time I open the dishwasher I feel like I’ve won the motherf*cking lottery.
The dishes are so clean and sparkling and I didn’t even have to wash them! And you know, although I’m glad I don’t have to wash dishes anymore, I’m even more glad that in between not washing them I don’t have to have them sitting in plain view on my countertop.
Because that’s the thing with hand-washing dishes, isn’t it? You either have a stack of dirty dishes on your counter waiting to be washed or a stack of clean dishes in the drying rack waiting to be put away. Either way, you have dishes all over your counters, and stuff cluttering my countertops drives me insane. So being able to hide the dirty dishes in a beautiful white box which also coincidentally washes those dishes while they’re in there?? Fucking brilliant. I can’t get over it!
Olive and I had a little ceremony the very first time we ran the dishwasher. My mom taped it as Olive solemnly filled the detergent dispenser and I showed her which buttons to push. As the machine whirred to life we stared at each other and grinned, high-fived. “We never have to wash dishes again!” I crowed. “You don’t,” said Olive, kindly. “I never had to anyway.” It was all very special and I’d share the video except Olive wasn’t wearing pants (Oh, and I’m sure you wear pants every single time you start your dishwasher? Didn’t think so.)
Also – the bathtub. Oh god, the joy of a deep bathtub full of scalding hot water and few scoops of Epsom salts. I’m trying not to overdo it because it’s a massive waste of water but I figured after not having a bathtub for two years I can catch up a bit so I have been, and sweet Jonathan Taylor Thomas is it fantastic.
Olive is much the same. She’s shared a room with me basically since birth, not counting the few months we were in our house in Edmonton. So furnishing her room has been very exciting for both of us, but her especially. Even just the basics have been novel for her. Like this table, for example.This busted old table:
She was so funny when she saw it. “This little table is for me? To go in my room?? Just for me? Oh, thank you, Mummy!” I mean, all this for some dusty old table that was in an alley! Does it get any better than that?
Like all parents, I sometimes worry that Olive feels less grateful for things than the could be. If she forgets tosay thank you a few times in a row I’m immediately like, “Great. GREAT. I’m raising an entitled brat!” but the appreciation she’s showed in the last few weeks for the little things like her own room and a battered old nightstand and a sign to hang on her door – it reassures me that she’s ok. No, better than OK! She’s incredible.
I’ve really enjoyed puttering around and finding new homes for all our old favourites, shelving books, hanging pictures and organizing cupboards. I’ve always loved this part of moving, the unpacking part. There’s something very satisfying about being able to make a house a home and it’s something I truly never take for granted.
So it’s all coming together. The chaos is slowly dying down and we’re smack dab in the “almost” phase; I’m almost caught up on work projects, we’re almost caught up on sleep, I’ve submitted almost all of my change of address forms and I’m almost able to drive home without taking the wrong turn.
Happy Friday, y’all. I hope spring is shaping up just as bright in your part of the world.