Crawling out from under the moving boxes

Posted on November 7, 2011 by heatherlauraclarke

Hello lovelies!

Sorry for being MIA. I hope you enjoyed the string of previously-written-but-couldn’t-post early-pregnancy posts. They ran out last week, and Blogger is a bad bloggy babysitter who apparently DOESN’T reach out of the interwebs and kick my butt to remind me to post. Who knew? But this is me, live-posting. Live!

I haven’t touched a computer — except to work, so … yeah, I have been on them … but I’ve had to FOCUS on WORK, you know? — in the two weeks we’ve been in the new house.

I am basically like this, all the time:

Except, you know:

Not blonde
Not skinny
Not wearing a kerchief
Kind of out-of-breath from chasing a toddler
Not SITTING on the boxes because OMG SO MUCH TO DO!

We’ve been in the new house for just over two weeks, and we are — in the immortal words of Stacey McGill — in luv. The house is amazing. The neighbourhood is amazing. It all feels too beautiful and awesome to be real, and we are so happy.

I promised myself — and everyone else — that I wouldn’t go all crazy with unpacking/organizing/decorating, but I LIED OK? SORRY. This is me, going crazy with unpacking/organizing/decorating. It’s what I do. And doing all of this while preggo? Doubly-crazy.

Promise to keep you updated more regularly on the house, pregnancy, life with the precocious toddler-o-rama, etc. Things are anything but boring these days.

Send toddler-sized restraints.
And candy apples.
And 10,000,000 tupperware organize-y boxes in various sizes. Thanks.

Category: Uncategorized

One Comment on “Crawling out from under the moving boxes”

Joseph
September 30, 2012

Packing up fragile things is not an easy thing to do. Ask tips or search online on the valuable things to pack up.If you can't do this hire professional person for you.

Joseph @ eastern suburbs sydney removalist

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I’m Heather Laura Clarke. I’m journalist and blogger in beautiful Nova Scotia, I have an 9-year-old son and a 7-year-old daughter, I married my high school sweetheart, and this is the story of my handmade life.

I have depression and anxiety, and I fight like hell every day to keep it from taking over my life. Making things isn’t just a hobby — it’s part of what keeps me alive.

Whether I’m decorating a room, busting out my power tools to build furniture, getting muddy in the pottery studio, sewing clothes for my kids, or cross-stitching a swear word, I’m all about using my creativity to craft a life I love.