One day, and really, it will be soon, this whole house painting adventure will be over and I can go back to obsessing about my infertility. Last Wednesday the painters finished. Well, in their minds anyhow. The last rooms to be painted were 2 of the 3 bathrooms. Once the paint dried and I got a look at it I was not a happy camper. The bathrooms, particularly the master, needed so much "touch up" work that they basically needed to be repainted. I called on Thursday morning and left a voice mail for the painter. He never called me back. Thursday evening Brian called him, and he did call right back. He said he would come out on Friday afternoon to take a look at how much needed to be done so that he could schedule it. He promised to make it right. Friday afternoon comes and goes, and he calls to say he was held up in traffic and wouldn't make it over until 9:00 Saturday morning. What is it with people in Phoenix thinking that 45 minutes of driving in traffic is a fate worse than death? Anyway, he did show up on Saturday morning, looked things over, and proclaimed that he would come back at 8:00 Sunday morning to do the downstairs bathroom and Wednesday afternoon to do the master bathroom. Claimed that he wanted to make this right because he likes us, and my parents, and wants our referrals. Here's the kicker, he said we could repay him with a 12 pack of beer. What?!?!?! We already paid him plenty of US dollars to do this job. He cashed the check before the paint was even dry. OK, so Sunday morning comes along, and you can see where this is going. Right! No painter. Brian called him and left a message at 10:00. By 11:00 Brian had the paint and rollers out and we spent the day working on both bathrooms.
I spent yesterday doing even more touch up and cleaning both of said bathrooms. We seem to have the furniture in place in the other rooms, but I still need to dust and vacuum and mop floors. Oh, and I have to figure out where to hang all of the pictures. I didn't work yesterday (except for tutoring 3 kids in the afternoon) and I tried really hard to get the entire house cleaned, laundry done, and errands run. Despite my best efforts it didn't happen. "Things" kept happening to thwart my plans. My plans of perfection, because that is what I was seeking. Cleaning up from painting took so much more time than I had planned. I wanted everything to be perfect without a speck of wayward paint anywhere. A seemingly impossible task. Errands that should have been simple were not, let's just leave it at that. When I reflected on the day later I had some interesting thoughts. I have so little control over this whole IVF thing that I strive for control in other areas. As much as I tried to make everything perfect it just wasn't happening. I believe it was God's way of showing me that I really don't have control over anything. I need to let it go and let God. So the end is really in sight. And I still haven't heard from the painter.
In much more fun news, hockey season is almost here! We share a season ticket package with another couple. They came over for lunch on Saturday and we picked our games and sorted out the tickets for the season. Brian and I went to the first pre-season game last night. We love our lower level seats! We can see everything happening on the ice, nobody will ever block our view, we can stand or sit and never block anybody, the bathrooms are close, and we get a running commentary from our new best friend, the usher. My favorite part of the night was just being someplace where I felt cold. I haven't been cold for so long. I miss it. We have another game next Tuesday and then opening night is on the 4th. I really hope I can go and don't get sidelined by any of this Hey! Impreggo My Eggos! business.
Speaking of operation Hey! Impreggo My Eggos! there isn't much to report. I am still taking my pills every evening, I haven't forgotten a dose yet. I feel fine, in fact, very energetic and excited about this whole thing. I have my suppression check on Thursday and I am starting to get a little nervous. I want my ovaries to get high marks. I feel it is a total reflection upon me, as a person. It's kind of like when we were taking Molly to obedience lessons. I really wanted her to do well. She didn't and I felt like a failure. I have about as much control over my ovaries as I do over Molly. I'm trying to remember that it has already been decided whether this will work or not, and no amount of worrying on my part will change things. I can only go with the flow and one way or another we will end up in just the right spot for us.
Congratulations if you have made it all the way here. When I started typing I had no intention of this getting so long. Oh well.