On Thursday evening, we got the keys to our new house! It was so surreal to be in our new, bigger place and although none of our own belongings were in there, it already felt like ours (and I should bloody hope so, we’ve paid enough money for it!). I particularly love our new kitchen, which has a little breakfast bar with two stools that I can picture us sat at in the mornings, or chatting to each other whilst we cook dinner. Idyllic.
We only gave ourselves one priority that evening: put up the Christmas tree. We forfeited an evening of packing (which we probably really should have been doing!) to bring a little bit of festive cheer to the new house. Little Pickle’s Dad (LPD) had purchased all the decorations this year (our decs from last year are still hidden up in the loft somewhere but as we only had a tiny 3ft tree last year, we knew we’d need a few more!) and I have to say – he made some excellent choices, including the best set of fairy lights I’ve ever seen.
Our new Christmas tree, in our new house!
With all the tree excitement and the time it took to check the inventory, we didn’t end up getting back to our flat until 9.45pm. Unbeknownst to us, my Mum had been round at our flat all evening packing and cleaning our kitchen for us! It was an amazing surprise and she did a phenomenal job. It did mean though, all of our food and cooking equipment was safely packed up. And we had no idea what was in what box. As it was so late anyway, I was past the point of being hungry and we decided just to go to bed after eating a yoghurt.
Ordinarily, pre-pregnancy, this would be fine. The occasional evening without dinner wasn’t a problem and wouldn’t pose any particular issues… but when I woke up the next morning… by God, didn’t I learn my lesson. The lack of dinner turned me into a puking, morning mess. I was heaving all over the place and it took me twice as long to get ready in the morning as I struggled to find the energy to do anything in-between runs to the toilet.
Amazingly, my Mum had left our breakfast things so I scoffed down a rather stale bowl of Honey Nut Cornflakes and eventually made it into work.
Lesson learned: always eat dinner. Always.