Hard

Sometimes, life is hard. Case(s) in point:
-Selling your apartment: hard
-Moving: hard
-Commuting from Washington Heights to midtown east/upper east side for 7 months while pregnant: hard
-Buying and renovating in a co-op building: hard
-Caring for a toddler: hard
-Caring for a newborn: hard

Then, sometimes, things get harder. Example: Caring for a toddler and a newborn while still living in Washington Heights and commuting to east midtown to oversee renovations is harder than any one of the above alone.

And sometimes, things become so hard, that what seemed hard or harder before now seems easy in comparison. Example: Checking into the hospital hours before a move you've been planning for months and trying to keep a breastfed newborn satisfied when you're not allowed to eat or drink for 20 hours at a time because you "might" be having surgery. Even with an angel mother there every second to help care for Hyrum, kind friends stepping in at the last minute to watch Evelyn/unpack/etc, and a husband dropping everything to supervise the move/FIOS installation/locksmith, etc, this last is still harder than all the other stuff.

So, right now, I'm sitting in my new apartment full of unpacked boxes just really happy to be here. And happy to have recently eaten a large milkshake and grilled cheese sandwich after 40 hours during which I was only allowed to eat over a 4-hour period. And grateful to everyone who stepped in to make any of what happened over the past three days possible. And tired. Peace out.