grumpy about the construction project (transition time)

We are still waiting and waiting and waiting for all the technical paperwork and details to be completed for our construction loan. The bank is screwing up things in little ways, like when their “employment verification department” contacted the wrong person at Anthony’s job — i.e., not the person he told them to contact but someone else — and then when he found out, the right person was out for the day, and then it’s the weekend, and shit shit shit more delays.  I’m truly astonished by how long it’s taking, and also on the edge of a nervous breakdown because of it.

The children are also anxious about the situation, which so far has included a dumpster (which we filled ourselves) and now a PODS container sitting on our front lawn. But no wall has come tumbling down yet.

Jesse’s therapist, the able and thoughtful Dr. Abrams, suggested to me that I put together a sort of photo memory book of our house the way it looks now, before our massive renovation begins. He says it will help with Jesse’s transitional anxiety. He says she may miss the old house and the way things were. Sure thing! I said, as I cheerfully jotted in my calendar the free hours when I would do it.

I went home and, that very night, I carefully photographed all of Jesse’s special places and put together a scrap book. I used a variety of decals, ribbons, and pressed flowers to decorate the scrap book, and also I printed out special labels and names to identify places in the house so that 20 years from now, when Jesse is feeling really unsettled, she can turn back to this scrap book and find soothing comfort in deep memories of the home of her early childhood.

* * * * * * * *

I think I just fell asleep and had a bad dream, almost like a nightmare. Or someone else was typing a fantasy about something I did. Where was I? Oh right. Dr. Abrams said make a photo book of the house as it is. Here’s how that conversation went:

Abrams [looking kind and thoughtful]: Blah blah blah you could make a photo book of the house to help Jesse transition blah blah blah.

Jesse [nodding appreciatively while staring unblinking at me, radiating the betrayal she feels because soon we’re expanding the kitchen, adding a bathroom and mudroom, and giving her a bedroom twice as big as Nick’s.]

Me [staring blankly at Abrams and then Jesse as I cop attitude]: Well… Uh… Jesse’s got an iPad mini. She knows how to use it. She can take photos of whatever she wants before demolition starts.

Abrams [practically glaring at me and then speaking verrrry slowly]:  I.  think. you. should make. a book.

Well okay then. It’s not every day that Dr. Abrams is so directive with me.

In the weeks since that encounter, I’ve received two more reminders from Dr. Abrams, but the photo book hasn’t happened yet. Sadly, I have a very strong anti-authoritarian streak. Maybe if and when we finally schedule a closing date, and the Big Trucks are rolling into our driveway, I’ll get around to it. Until then, somebody hand me the Mommy-Fail stamp.

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