These are the finished, rounded, outside turn-out pens for large animals. You know, horses and cows, etc. Probably even llamas. Think I’m kidding? Our neighboring county seems to be rife with llamas! And alpacas. Let’s not leave out the alpacas….
These pens are – as my husband would say – elephant-proof. I guess that means they can hold an elephant, which is pretty impressive. I know these pictures look the exact same, but really…each is a hair different. I think it’s necessary to see how they are slightly rounded.
I’ve never felt the kind of relief I felt the day these pens were officially marked DONE. Well, the whole giant job, really. It added another layer of stress and busyness to our every day.
I heard someone say one time that they hated writing but were always glad they wrote. I may have referenced that same thought here on the blog before. I kind of do loathe the act of writing the posts, until they are done. Then, I feel satisfied. When I go back and read old ones and see the book come every year to put on the shelf for posterity, I’m so glad I did it.
I guess these pens are the same way. I hated it when he was building them. But I’m so glad he did.
We have another giant project looming in front of us right now that’s starting to cause me the same anxiety, all over again. I can feel the familiar feelings. I know what’s coming. I’ve been here and around it and back again so many times, you’d think I’d know how to handle this, but I’m still doing poorly at it.
We have to get a baby room ready around here…which means walls, floors, ceilings, painting, shoot me now. They’re all things I have no control over. They’re all things that I cannot do personally. So, I feel a total lack of control over how my future is going to play out.
So I’m doing what I can. Getting the small stuff ready, pooling our money, and eating and sleeping and loving on Katie as much as I can. But who am I kidding? The stress is not disappearing. It never does. It won’t, until forward motion happens.
I know it’s not the end of the world if we don’t have the baby’s room ready when he comes home from the hospital, but I spent the first few weeks of Katie’s life trying to unpack into a brand new house that we’d only been in for three days. The days leading up to the move and those after were not easy.
I don’t really want to do that again.
I want to feel ready. I want to feel in control, even though it’ll be a ruse.
So much will be so different. Different routines and a whole new world for us and for Katie.
Last night, after supper, Katie and I were sitting on the floor of her room, putting together the new tackle box she got for Christmas from her uncle and aunt. This means we were putting all the little plastic pieces where they go and figuring out which pink princess stickers would be necessary to decorate it. It was brown, after all. Tackle boxes don’t generally come fit for a tea party.
While sitting there, we heard a knock on her big bedroom window. She ran over to pull back the curtains, knowing it was her daddy. It was already dark and hard to see out, so I turned her overhead light off, and there was Brady…on a horse, sidled right up to the window.
The two of them – Brady and Katie, not Brady and the horse – had a nice little chat about what to familiarly name this Peppy’s Smart Twist, or whatever her official name is in the books. After he showed Katie some side steps and spins, he said his good-byes and disappeared into the darkness to put her up for the night. Katie called after them, one arm draped around her Penelope-cat on the window sill, “See y’all later! Look at Daddy…ridin’ that horse around.”
I think as long as some of this kind of Sameness can keep happening, maybe the Different won’t scrape on me so badly. If I can just hold onto the daddy and the horse at the window and the little girl that wants to race around the house and swim in the tub, I think I can hold everything else at bay.
At least until I can’t anymore.