OK, I know we have officially been in the new house for a month now, but I am only now just starting to feel settled. There are still boxes of ‘no idea what the fuck is in them’ stacked in the garage left to unpack, and I still haven’t finished sorting out our bedroom and wardrobe. T really doesn’t let me spend that much time in there, so it is a case of hang a few things whenever the chance presents itself. Usually after I poo. As long as T isn’t trying to sit on my lap whilst doing said poo, or trying to play with the toilet brush. I must really find a better place for that. The toilet brush, not my poo. Poo is fine in the toilet, thank you.
So I have said the place is dump. That is not entirely true, just a bit. Well, it was quite dumpy when we first moved in but is slowly becoming less dumpy.
Day 1: I collect the keys at 9am. The plan was to casually start bringing some boxes and things over and all the big stuff would come over on the truck 2 days later. This was supposed to make for a stress free move.
I arrive at the new house with T to wait for the Power Dude to come and connect the power. D is there waiting for me. We enter, all excited and shit. There is a maintenance man working on the yard which looks like crap still. Hmmmm, shouldn’t this be completed BEFORE we move in? Anyway…
I say to D, ‘This floor feels disgusting.’ I look to see the bottom of my feet covered in dirt, after only ENTERING the house! Deep breath. Moving on.
We go to check the new carpet that has just been laid. Nice, except there is crap all over the carpet. Surely the carpet layers wouldn’t leave that much mess? Continue to inspect the rest of the house to discover that it is a fucking mess. ALL the floors – slate, tile, carpet, whatever, were dirty. There was even dried mud up and down the hallway. Windows were filthy. House was obviously poorly cleaned. I was not a happy camper.
Real Estate Dude was shocked when I called him to tell him I was not happy with the state of the house. ‘Really?’ he said, ‘I have no idea how that has happened!’ Well, did you come and check the fucking house before you gave us the keys Dipshit? – is what I wanted to say. He claimed that the house had been professionally cleaned, to which I told him he should sack his dumbass cleaners (ok, didn’t really say dumbass, but I did have a stern edge to my voice). I insisted that he send cleaners back out to do the place again because obviously we couldn’t move anything into such a filthy house. Grumble, grumble (I may just kill you in your sleep Real Estate Man), finally he says he will send them back out to do all the floors but would not pay for the entire house to be re-cleaned. I believe it was never cleaned and Idiot Face never checked the house. End result was the Power Guy took forever to come so by the time it was connected, it was too late for the cleaners to come and they couldn’t make it until first thing the following morning. Day 1 = fail.
Day 2: Cleaner comes nice and early. He was nice and did all the floors and wiped over all the shelves and benches and window sills. Not perfect but at least move-in-able. He also told me that the Real Estate Dude is new and a bit of a wanker. Reeeeally? Hadn’t noticed.
Go back to the old place for a full on day of packing and cleaning for me, and yard work for D. My mother came to be a cleaning helper angel. Seriously, could not have gotten through all the cleaning with out her. Remember, I’m still in my first trimester at this time. Not feeling so wonderful.
Mother-in-law also comes to be a helper. She puts her hand up to look after T while I work. Perfect. That is exactly what I needed. It probably would have been easier if she took him to her place but anywhoo, I was grateful for the help.
Dad also comes to help out with some high pressure cleaning of our patio pavers and outdoor pathways. Lots of help = very thankful me.
It was a productive and exhausting day. Lots of work and cleaning and packing happened and we were pretty much ready to move everything the next day with the truck.
Day 3 – Moving Day: My mum is not able to come and help on this day but that is fine, she helped me 1 trillion the day before. I have a plan – Finish packing the last few bits and pieces, then I will finish cleaning the last few cupboards in the kitchen that I did not get to do the day before so the kitchen is ready for D to clean the oven. Pregs don’t do that job. Then, I will clean both the bathrooms so they are done. Then, once the furniture has been moved out of the bedrooms I will clean any walls that we couldn’t get to before and finish any windows. The plan was to get that end of the house cleaned and finished, so that when I returned on the Monday to complete the cleaning, all I would have to do was the front end of the house. You know what they say about the best laid plans?
Mother-in-law, came again to help with looking after T. Perfect. Again, that is exactly what I needed. It probably would have been easier if she took him to her place but anywhoo, I was grateful for the help.
He is asleep when she arrives and we have a casual chat about what I need to get done. I mention what I am planning to finish in the kitchen and that D will do the oven/stove. She says, ‘Oh I can do that!’ I tell her it is not necessary but she insists, saying that she can help while T is napping. She also says something a little weird here. She says that perhaps it might be an idea today that I stop and take it easy for a bit and play with T. Of course, I will stop all day long and give him kisses and cuddles but essentially, I need to work! Soon it all becomes clear…
Now, I do not wish to say hurtful things about my family (only dickhead real estate agents) but this is my blog and I need to be real. I nearly, almost, totally lost my shit at Mother-in-law on that day. To say I was angry would have been an understatement. Livid perhaps? Cranky pants pulled up Harry High Pants style? For sure.
To cut a super long story short, basically for reasons unknown to me, it was as if she decided that she wouldn’t look after T. She buried herself in cleaning that oven for HOURS. I mean, I know it is a big job, but really? Hours? I, of course couldn’t go anywhere near the kitchen for the fumes. The smell made me want to vom vom. So there I was, left holding T up the other end of the house in the bedrooms with no furniture. So we sat on the floor where I attempted to entertain him, while getting more and more angry. He hadn’t quite worked out how to crawl yet so was a miserable, frustrated, bored baby.
D and his mate were in and out during the day collecting things to load on the truck. They worked around me while I sat on the floor doing NOTHING, thinking of all the work I should have been doing. Honestly, I could have punched someone.
After HOURS of oven cleaning, I think I am finally going to be able to do some work, when she starts on the stove top. This was after I told her that it was black and pitted when we moved in so I was just going to give it a scrub with steel wool and be done with it. Next thing I know, she has emptied the remains of the toxic oven cleaner on the stove top and started scrapping away with a knife. This continued for a few more HOURS! The fumes had me retreat once again the other end of the house to sit on the floor with T again. I wanted to scream, but of course I couldn’t say anything to her. I guess she thought she was helping, and she is D’s mum. So that means I cannot speak my mind. She is the kind that would hold a grudge. Personally I don’t care but I don’t want to make it uncomfortable for D.
At one point I just couldn’t stand being so useless and decided to dismantle the cot, which was the only piece of furniture left from the bedrooms. T was busy throwing nappies and scented nappy sacks around the room so I set to work. Turns out it should have been a 2 person job. The side rail fell on T’s head. My poor baby. But this only succeeded in making me more angry, because he shouldn’t have been there! He should have been with Mother-in-law, playing up the other end of the house as agreed! After all, that is what she insisted on doing for us! I had a few beautiful friend offer to take him for the day for us, but noooo she wanted to do that for us! What the fuck?
As it turns out my savour for the day ended up being K. We sent him out to play in the morning so he wouldn’t be underfoot (J was at his mums that weekend), and he was out with the kids in the street for most of the day, not returning until the afternoon. When he did come back though, he was the one to look after T while I FINALLY did SOMETHING constructive. I even did something no mother should do. I vented to him. I shouldn’t have burdened him with my crap but I was going to explode! He saved me from losing my shit big time. All in all, she came to help by looking after T, and for the entire day did anything but. The anti-helper. Thanks for nothing. I lost an entire day.
I started this post to whine about the new house but have ended up bitching about my mother-in-law. Back to the house.
Things that were wrong – DIRTY HOUSE, a million light bulbs blown and when we replaced them (had to buy nearly 20 new bulbs from bunnings) half of them still didn’t work, dishwasher fucked, no gas, electric garage door didn’t work, dry rot in wood about to fall off roof, power points hanging of walls, exhaust fan in bathroom hanging out of the ceiling, fly screens missing, ceiling fan not working, door handles missing and sliding doors of rails.
Most things have now been fixed but still waiting for the ceiling fan and dishwasher to be replaced. These things are important to me! Dishwasher especially! If you are not going to replace the dishwasher fine, take $50 a week off the rent and we’ll buy our own. That’s how much it is worth to me but it’s been a month now. Mumma bear is getting mighty impatient!
Good things about the house –
Plus heaps of room, big bedrooms, fenced in outdoor patio area safe for T, closer to school and did I mention lots of space?
We do like it, just want it to be all nice and fully functional.
Thanks for staying with me on this post turned bitch fest. The moving day saga did continue into the night but that is a sad, sad story for my next post.