My wonderful husband just texted me a sweet reminder that even though this house renovation isn't quite the "fun" we always imagined, that even though we shed a lot of tears over the past few months, that even though this apartment life is driving us freakin' bonkers, that even though the limited playtime we get with Burke in the evenings is on contractor-grade bleh carpet, that even though we second-guessed the decision to sell our perfectly good former house, that even though we have to twist our contractor's arm every single day to actually show up to work, that even though my career took an untimely-but-so-much-better path, that even though the weather is turning cool & all my fall clothes are in storage, that even though we're paying double house expenses for an apartment we can't stand & a house we can't live in, ultimately, we are doing everything for the right reason.
In case we were doubting any of our decisions, one of the hoodlums from the old neighborhood was thoughtful enough to remind us last night. He decided to break into a home at 4am on our old street because he wanted the car parked out front. Ironically, that car did not belong to the person in that home, and fortunately, no one was harmed. But, it could've been our old house. It could've been Burke's room that the idiot stumbled into in the middle of the night.