I think I have gone crazy. There are two parts of my brain talking to me about this whole settling in thing. The one part of my brain realizes that I have 2 children and just taking care of them is a full time, tireless job. Then there is the other part. The crazy part. This part tells me that the house should be unpacked, the kitchen should be clean and the children perfectly attended to. I actually got upset yesterday when the floors were dirty from all the moving hoopla and I couldn't find the right cleaning supplies to clean it. It also put me over the edge when I made a cake last night (I know, I said this was the crazy part) and the outside was overdone and the inside was still gooey.
The moving stress has left our lives. There is no more cleaning the house for strangers to see it, no more packing for the weekend to run away to one of our parents' houses, and no more holding my breath everytime the realtor calls or the mortgage guy calls or the builder calls.
Unfortunately I haven't turned off the part of my brain that is under stress. It thinks that unpacking and making dinner and these everyday tasks are too much to handle.
I need to remember to sit back, relax, and happily enjoy building train tracks with Jack and feeling the sweet breath of a sleeping Sarah on my chest. This is why we moved: to raise our kids in a beautiful place, to enjoy them as they grow up way too quickly, and to put down roots in this place that is home.