Here's how I coped with the pain of labour:
I read a book.
I talked on the phone.
I watched half a movie.
I breathed through each contractions.
I evicted my tenants.
Never default on rent owed to a woman in labour, or you will find your lease agreement terminated at the earliest possible time.
Last night Man and I went back to my house, showing the place to potential new tenants. I've had trouble collecting the rent money from the current tenants every month, and I know my former neighbours are none to pleased with them either, as their kids have been terrorizing the neighbourhood (seriously - break and enter, thievery, spray-painted roads).
The showing last night was a little stressful, becuase my current tenants were at home, with their two yappy dogs and three surly kids. And those kids? Those kids keep untidy bedrooms. The whole house was untidy, though if you were being evicted I don't suppose you'd be inclined to clean up for the landlord, either. As we walked through discussing electricity costs, tenants' insurance and how many references I require, the oldest kid was sulking around after us. When we checked out the backyard, he came outside for a smoke. As we stood in the driveway discussing move-in dates, he hand a hankering for more nicotine... this time out the front. His younger brother took a more stealthy approach, hiding out in his bedroom with his window cracked open listening from there.
The couple who saw the place last night were friendly, and their kid, at 2 years old, is not likely to be breaking into the rec centre down the street. Promising. I've had many more calls on the place, and a few more lined up to see it in the next few days.
It was hard being back at the house - I bought it before Man, before Squeaky, and I had pictured many long hours in the garden, many mornings canoeing on the lake just beyond the back fence, and many barbeques and bonfires among friends. It is also an ideal house for our small family now, but it is just too far away from Man's work to make it a viable living arrangement at this time. Also, what did we spend all winter renovating for if not to live here in our wee small house?? (And I like our house, I really do, I just wish it was finished). I know houses are nothing more than four walls and a roof, and ideally a wood stove, but the associated memories and fantasies of the future can tug on the heartstrings as if they were living beings.