The Fridge

I've decided that for the telling of this middle part of our move I'm going to concentrate on stories rather than list everything in chronological order.  Because, well... following a chronological order is so yesterday.  At some point I can only hope that I'll be writing about the end of this move.  We're at 11 days of living here and the saga continues.

For me the saga of the fridge has pretty much defined this move so it seems like the most logical place to start.

You may remember from my post yesterday that my husband has a problem with how the fridge fits (or doesn't fit in his mind) into it slot.  He doesn't like that it sticks out about 4 inches.  Here is what the fridge looks like at the moment:

Right past the Huggies box on the left-hand side of this picture is the evil fridge.  See how it refuses to stay in its allotted spot?

And here is another picture of the fridge with Little Man standing in front of it.  Why yes, he is chewing on my giant ladle that I use when I cook a vat of sauce.  Thank you for asking.

And here he is again... because how could I not include this photo?

Okay, back to the fridge saga.  So, Brian made his opinion of the fridge known to the builder and we were told this would be an easy swap out.  The store where we bought it assured our builder that they had the same fridge (French doors on top, bottom drawer freezer) in a smaller size that will fit into the spot perfectly.  The delivery was scheduled for Monday, February 28.

Now, let's remember that we actually moved into our house on Saturday February 26.  And since I have an 18 month old to feed and since I just built a house and therefore don't have tons of splurge money left over, I needed a fridge of some sort to store food.  Luckily for us Brian and I carted our fridge from Texas to Georgia and it was sitting in my garage just waiting to be used.  Unlucky for me there are also about 100 boxes out in my garage.  So, every time I need something from the fridge, I contort my body (my 7 month pregnant body which you may remember from this picture) and get it out of here:

But who cared that I had to deal with this for 2 days... right?

So, on Monday, between the hours of 7am-11am our fridge arrived.  Our house sits on top of  a bump (it isn't really a hill but it's a heck of a trek from our mailbox all the way to our front steps) so the delivery man came up to see the lay of the land before he brought up the fridge.  In the meantime our builder had told us we could put some stuff in the fridge, bare necessities like Monkey's milk, so I emptied out the fridge, moved whatever boxes might be in the way and waited.  The delivery guy went back down to the mailbox, talked to the other delivery guy and then made his way back up to the house... without the fridge.  He told me that when he unwrapped the fridge there were 2 forklift dents in the fridge and he was sure I didn't want that.  He then offered for me to go down to the mailbox to see for myself.  I told him if he wasn't willing to bring it up here then there was no reason for me to go down there.  We called customer service and another delivery time was schedule for Wednesday, March 2 between the hours of 7:00am - 11:00am.

On Wednesday I again stayed home and waited for my fridge.  It was a different delivery guy who showed up this time.  And while I emptied out the fridge and yet again moved everything out of the path of the coming fridge, the delivery man said to me, "Do you know this fridge is being delivered COD?"  And of course I didn't know.  And of course I only had $12 in the house and of course the COD was for $54.  And of course I had a babysitter for Evan that morning so I could unpack and she had my car.  So, I called Brian to see if he could bring me the money... no answer.  I called the builder to see if he could bring me the money... no answer.  I even called one other person who I knew would front me the money... no answer.  So, we had to reschedule the delivery for Thursday afternoon between 1:00pm and 5:00pm.

By Thursday I really needed to go to the grocery store.  My mom and sister were coming in to town that night and I had spent the morning unpacking with Evan and chaperoning contractors in and outside my house.  Brian offered to come home while Evan napped that afternoon so I could run to the store.  On my way home from the store I called Brian to see if the fridge had been delivered since I would rather empty my grocery bags into the new fridge rather than the garage fridge.  He said no one had come.  I got back to the house and continued to wait. At about 4:00pm I called our builder to see if he had heard from the fridge guys at all (since our builder had managed our purchase the delivery was also being managed through him so they would have called him and not us).  He contacted them and told me that the fridge people claimed they had showed up to deliver the fridge at 1:37 but they knocked on the door and rang the doorbell and no one answered.  So, the earliest they could reschedule was Saturday, March 5 between 1:00pm and 5:00pm.

Saturday afternoon rolls around.  My sister and mom had been helping me unpack by watching the ever active Evan.  After Evan wakes up from his nap, around 3:00pm, Brian and I decided to offer my sister a respite and told he we would take Evan to Target to run some errands if she could wait for the fridge (which had not yet arrived but which my builder assured me was on its way).  She had no problem with this so off Brian, Evan, and I went.  After being at Target for about 30 minutes, my sister called and said to me, "Ellen, wasn't the new fridge supposed to be the exact same thing as the current fridge with French doors for the refrigerator and a bottom drawer freezer?"  And I answered, "Yes, why?"  Well ladies and gentlemen, it turns out that the fridge that had been delivered 4 times over the past week was not the fridge we were promised.  Instead it was the stainless steel version of the very fridge I had in the garage.

So, we called the builder.  Turns out "his guy" who told him it would be the same fridge was mistaken.  If we wanted the same exact fridge in a smaller version it would cost us at least $800 more out of pocket.  Which I wasn't willing to pay to placate Brian's OCD. 

Instead, here we are... 11 days out the fridge in the kitchen still sticks out and I'm still using the fridge in the garage to store most of my food.  Apparently we are now trying to work with the fridge we have.  If the structure of the garage allows we will try and bump out the fridge into the garage so it will appear to be cabinet depth.  If that doesn't work we might build out the cabinet around the fridge.  But apparently we still around 100% sure we are keeping the fridge we have.  I've basically decided on passive resistance and have started to slowly move all my food into the kitchen fridge.  We'll see what happens next.

The Move: The Beginning (laying the groundwork)

I fully expect that someday Evan and Chloe (and the ever possible but highly unlikely third child to be named at a later date if needed) will turn to me and ask me why everything we do ends up being more difficult than it seems it should be.  And I will answer, without batting an eye, so that we can entertain other people when we share our stories.  So, I hope our move to our new house entertains you.

I'll start at the beginning, Friday, February 25, to lay the groundwork for the drama chaos.  It was decided that on this Friday all of our items in storage would be transferred to our new house.  The items were to arrive on Friday morning.  This same Friday morning my father-in-law would be taking Evan (and my car) so that we wouldn't have to worry about watching him and Brian would have to go to City Hall to prove to them that we own this property and change the water to our name (yes, this antiquated system is how Atlanta handles water utilities). 

To manage all of this, Brian took me to the new house and waited with me until the movers came.  Unbeknownst to me he also left the movers with strict instructions not to let his 7 month pregnant wife lift anything and that I would be pig-headed about the entire situation (apparently he forgot to tell them not to tell me what he said).  Brian found a chair for me off of the truck, deposited me in the driveway and he took off.  I spent the next 3 hours telling the movers where the 5,700 lbs of crap storage items should go and wondering what the heck all of this stuff could be. 

Once the movers were finished, they took off and Brian returned.  Our builder, my father-in-law, and Evan also showed up and while all of us we were meandering around the house Brian noticed that the fridge we chose was not counter depth.  Instead, it stuck out about 4 extra inches (not counting the doors that need to stick out).  Now, I had noticed this on our final walk through the night before and my reaction was excitement.  I had just dealt with an apartment sized refrigerator for about 8 months and was seriously looking forward to the room in this fridge.  However, my husband's OCD did not see this as a glass half-full moment.  Instead, it became something so annoying to him it was like having a shard of glass in his eye every time he looked at it.  He needed the situation fixed and after listening to him talk about the fridge Friday night, Saturday morning, and the rest of the weekend I told him to do whatever needed to be done so that I wouldn't have to hear about the fridge anymore.  The builder assured us he could get the same fridge counter depth so all seemed good.  We will return to the fridge in another post as this post is only about the beginning.

All seemed good Friday night.  Then on Saturday we were told that the packers/movers would be at the apartment between 8am - 10am and Brian had to meet our alarm guy at the new house between 8am and 12pm. We all got up at the crack of dawn (also known as 6:30 AM) to be showered, dressed, and fed before anyone showed up. My father-in-law again took Evan and my car out and about Atlanta. 

I sat in the apartment with our 4 cats sequestered in bathroom (and screaming and clawing at the door the entire time) until 10am when the packers/movers finally arrived.  While they descended on the apartment I watched TV for as long as I could and then read a book.  I assumed, with 3 packers in a 3 room apartment it would only take about 2 hours to pack.  Well... 4 hours later they were still packing.  In fact, they didn't finished packing until 3:00 PM.  Thankfully, once the alarm person showed up at our new house (at about 12:30 PM) Brian was able to bring me food... because let's remember, I had no car and was stuck with the packers. 

At 3:00 PM we all made our way to the new house (except for the cats who were going to spend one more night in the apartment) and I once again sat in the driveway while I told the movers where things needed to go (and naively assumed that was where things were going...). Thankfully, everything was unpacked and Monkey's crib was put together just in time for him to go to bed (7:00 PM).  All of our stuff was in our house and everyone was already exhausted.

Sunday, I went back to the apartment to clean it up.  Again, I figured it would only take me about 2 hours to clean up the 3 room apartment.  Brian was out running errands for the house, Al was out with Evan, and I was cleaning with 4 cats.  Four hours later (clearly I had underestimated the dirt) Brian came to get me, the cats, and the items left behind.  At this point my 7 month pregnant back was completely done in.  Clearly nothing else was going to happen that night.

Monday began 2 things: 1) the never ending saga of unpacking, and 2) the contractors.  The unpacking shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone and for those of you who don't live in LaLa Land I've been told the contractors shouldn't be surprising either.  You see, it turns out that our builder did what needed to be done only to get us into the house.  This meant that there were about 1,000 things still left to do all of which had to be done while I was unpacking in the house with an 18 month old.

Here is a glimpse of what our house looked like on Friday afternoon (remember, this was just some boxes from storage...):

And so it began... stay tuned for posts about the chaos that ensued once we were moved in.

Moving Update - Brief

I just wanted to let you know that we're here (and so are all the contractors still trying to finish the house), we're safe, stress runs amok, but we are looking towards the light at the end of the tunnel.

Of course this move comes with ALL kinds of stories which I will gladly share with you as soon as I have some free time.  I'm thinking I might be able to get some out to you at nights this week since our TV is still on the fritz... a whole other saga.

Sigh...

Almost Home

I haven't spoken about it recently, because I did'nt want to jinx things (and I'm a lot more superstitious than I'll ever admit to), but our house will be done... tomorrow.  Which means we are moving in... tomorrow.

Packers and movers are coming to our apartment tomorrow morning and then they will deliver our 5000 lbs of miscellaneous stuff from storage on Saturday (I anticipate this will be a lot like Christmas since I have no idea what could be in there).

I'll take pictures and video to commemorate this occassion and post again as soon as possible.  But I wanted to explain my absence... at least for a little while.

So, to hold you over... here is the little man helping Daddy stock Maga and Grandpa's little fridge with soda over Christmas:

Television

I am not one of those people who ever said that my children won't watch TV.  How could I be?  Brian and I are all about the TV all the time.  It is our companion.  For me, it has been this way for as long as I can remember (which with each day of my pregnancy is fewer and fewer days).  I don't think TV in and of itself is evil.  I do however think that once TV replaces other activities for children that it then needs to be controlled.  If Evan ever told me he would rather watch TV than go outside and play then TV would be something that would slowly disappear.

But for right now the TV allows me to get my chores down (the channel Sprout to be exact... genius who thought up this channel).  It allows me to distract a tantrum (which get more and more common each day... lucky me) and it allows me to sit down for almost 5 minutes at a time.

I do have to admit though, that sometimes I get a little worried about Evan's interest in the television.  When we come in from being out he immediately goes over and points to the TV.  If it's on a "grown-up" show he completely ignores the TV but if it's on Sprout (and specifically "The Wiggles")... this is what I see:

So, for right now I'm going to let TV have a prominent place in our home.  But I expect that each year it will become less and less important.