6 mos 17 days

That's how long William has been with us.  And we hope it's a whole lot longer.  But 6 mos, 20 days is burned into my brain, my soul, my heart.  6 mos, 20 days, Tabitha's death certificate reads.  She was with us for just that long, and now William has been with us for almost as long.

Suffice it to say, I am freaking out.


And on top of that, we are in the midst of buying a house.  We found out yesterday that not only has our offer been accepted (which happened about a week ago) but now they've decided our paperwork checks out.  Our agent is turning on the utilities, and then we just need our home inspected, and we can close.

I have started packing to relieve some stress.  You know it's bad if you pack to relieve stress.  I hate packing.  Part of the reason I hate packing is because I like to be organized when I am packing, and sometimes there is just no way to get all the stuff into one box nicely.  Also, even if you think you don't have much of something and it fits so nicely into a small space in your home, when you try to get it into a box, it takes up several boxes, and now you have boxes everywhere.

Luckily, there is some extra room in the garage, so I've made Dan take stuff out there.

But all this house stuff is frosting on my real worry.  And wrapped up in it, because I wanted William to have a new home before we reached the end of this 6 mos and 20 days.  Which, given we have 3 more days, isn't going to happen.

 Jeanie suggested I drive out to see her for a couple days, so I won't be here.  Which would be really fun, if it wasn't about 15 hours away.  But I've got a play date planned with a friend early next week (who happens to have kids very close to both Emily and William), and the house inspection should be next week, so I've got stuff to distract me.

And I've got one chubby baby with chunky checks to love on.  That should help.