I am holed up in my home office as I write this, trying to work but instead really just listening to the contractors do some finishing details in our 3/4ths renovated kitchen. (We are into year four on this project now. Obviously we move sloooowly on these things.) It's not that anyone is preventing me from working by being incredibly noisy. More that I'm either used to working with the bedlam of children behind me, or (when the kids are at school and/or the sitter) complete quiet. Having adults milling around in the background is odd. I have to resist the urge to offer them sippy cups or ask if they need to go to the potty.
Plus, construction in the kitchen reminds me of when we redid the floors, counters, and back splash when I was at the tail-end of Little A's torturous pregnancy. That job contract was signed when I was in the second trimester and feeling relatively ok. But most of the work ended up being done in the period of time when I was in and out of the hospital with preterm labor. That last month of Little A's pregnancy was probably the most difficult of my life so far. I was terrified that things were going wrong, unable to control what happened, and in terrible shape. It hurt too much to pick up Big A, or get down on the floor to play with her. Even if the kitchen hadn't been gutted, I couldn't stand up for a half hour to cook dinner at the end of the pregnancy, anyhow. We ate way more takeout and watched way more TV than I want to think about now. Hopefully our hearts, arteries, and brains have recovered from all that.
I am glad to be reminded by the new construction that life was shitty back then, much like the old kitchen sucked. It's not that life is perfect now, what with Little A's illnesses and trying to make ends meet during a recession. But, those are all new problems. Hallelujah, that's real progress.