Motivation

Guess what I'll be doing the last weekend of May, assuming the move/moving/close 1/close 2/giant deposit checks/boxes/packing/unpacking/cleaning doesn't kill me?

Watching the Sex and the City movie - alone with my popcorn, or with whatever girlfriends will join me. I don't get to name my daughter Carrie BECAUSE of this show (Michael says it reminds him too much) so this movie better be damn good to make-up for it.

The noly thing missing will be Cosmos - oh well, I'll have double the Sno-caps instead.

Buying a House Rocks!

What a difference a weekend makes.

After lots of looking...hours of discussion amongst Mike, Kevin our rock star realtor, my mother-in-law Dale (who had the mistfortune to visit this house-a-thon weekend, poor woman) and I... two offers on two different houses on two ends of town...one counter offer on the one...and one happy phone call from our realtor...we have purchased a lovely little three bedroom, two bathroom ranch house in south Webster Groves on Old Watson Road.

We close on both houses - this one and ours - well I guess both are ours - so we'll say House 1 and House 2 - on Wed. May 28. As in next month, before June, within 30 days, just a few weeks away - and icing on cake - the day before Mike's last day of school.

"AH!!!!!" doesn't quite cover how I feel.

I am already plotting our Pod strategies to get out of the one house, store our stuff, then into the other one. And am very thankful that Memorial Day weekend gives us a leg up on packing said Pod.

I am already stressing about inspections. Worried, what if closing costs are twice as much as I'm estimating and it cuts into The Basement Fund, otherwise known as a portion of the proceeds of our current home sale that are earmarked for building a 4th bedroom and a family room/play room/recreation room (aka drinkin' room) in the currently unfinished basement.

I'm already mentally listing who we'll shamelessly recruit to help us move. I'm fretting that the Simple Moves costs - they move the heavy stuff - will be as reasonable and worthwhile as I hope they'll be.

But for one brief moment - I am also realizing it really is okay to be excited, and happy. We bought a house! We will not be homeless May 28! And, we will not be stuck here August 29 and forced to move with a screechy, crazy newborn!

Mike and I agreed on the house! Our moms agreed with us! We managed to keep our buyers, but still land a house that we didn't feel we "settled" too much for!

We don't have to keep our house clean anymore, waiting for the next showing! We found something ready to move in, but with enough projects to make it out own! That we can actually imagine staying in for five or more years! That is close to 44, the Rec Center, Walgreens, the Chinese buffet!

That we like, a lot.

Me happy, me a homeowner once more.

Househunting Sucks

Did you know Webbie Groves is filled with houses that look reasonable but then have the master bedroom on the basement or off the kitchen? Or the Brady Bunch green tile upstairs bathroom that you can't stand up all the way in for fear of poking your head through the 6o degree pitched ceiling? Or rotting wood peeking out underneath the "new siding" it looks like someone added with their arts and crafts staple gun last week? Or is located next to major construction? Or appears to have a chicken coop next door?

In other words...there is something wrong with every one of them. At least in our price range.

If there's not, you can bet it's on the wrong side of the tracks. Or adjacent to the tracks - and both trains come through every ten minutes. Making the earthquake look like a heavy door slamming.

Now that we've sold our house - oh, did I not mention, we've sold our house and have 7 more days to find one to make the deal happen? Yes. Yes yes. So, now that we've sold our house - its as though realtors throughout 63119 have gone on strike. NOTHING in our price range is even popping UP the last few days.

"This is a good problem to have" will be my mantra.

"$&"%*'ing house better come up soon" will be my reality.

Death and Taxes

We completed the second and felt like the first last night.

$1200 to the government later ... I could not be more grateful for my refund check coming to balance things out.

But also left wondering what the $&%# is going on that we owe that much money?

I don't even expect refunds anymore. But to owe? In a W presidential year? I thought he was too busy siphoning cash from our public education systems and mailing it to corporate trusts and the uber-rich, to figure out to stop and ask our middle class butts for more.

How to Have a Happy 2nd Birthday Weekend

Start it with bubbles. Lots of 'em, that shoot out of a Machine that only a Daddy would buy.

Then crash your Aunt Erin's 29th birthday party. While there, really make your mark. Just because the party's at Bridget's grama's house, and it's Bridget's ball, doesn't mean it's hers tonight. It's YOUR BIRTHDAY! Finish 'er off with a raging kegger. Or, if your square parents say no, a Gymboree party with slides, balls, cake and way too many generous presents ought to suffice. (For full documentation, see my Picasa photo account to the right.)
To my birthday boy:

You make us laugh every day now, and this weekend was no exception. It was SO fun watching you jump, climb and be adventurous with your friends. You're quite the two-year old already - demanding this, demanding that, demanding even louder NOT to do this or that ...

Pointing out planes and "tractors" (helicopters) in the sky with so much excitement. Running at top speed with your legs almost in front of your body. Kissing the dogs, cat, Daddy, me and now your babies good night. Patting the baby in my tummy - then patting your "baby" in yours ...

Saying please and thank you in your tiny little voice - often in the right context, but even sweeter when you're thanking me as YOU hand ME your used sippy cup ...

Not just giggling, but screaming with joy now when we tickle you. Just like I did when I was a little kid ...

Learning to draw, learning to count. Screaming out letters when you see them in signs. Telling me there's a triangle on Dad's shirt (when did you even LEARN THAT?) Loving your Gramas, your Daddy, your friend Jackson, Bridgey ... loving everyone around you, really.

You are my sweet, sweet boy, and I wish I could keep you this way for another few years. Well, most days, that is.

I love it all, and I love you. Happy birthday, big boy!

Yes! Double YES!

We listed our house yesterday!

We had one showing yesterday, and two today!!

Got a friend or neighbor looking for a charming two-bed, one bath in Shrewsbury? I can TOTALLY hook you up.

My Hormones or His Brain Farts?

I am SO sorry for the crass title. But that's the real question I have. Twice this week my DH has pretty much made me question whether its his judgment that's flawed ... or my ability to withstand ANY type of frustration in my 1/2-way-through-being-knocked-up-and-long-way-to-go condition.

Item #1: Wednesday night I come home to find my house full of paint fumes. Oil-based fumes. The ONE thing my doctor told me to avoid completely. Besides smoking. Turns out DH wanted to "touch up" our epoxy tile paint in the bathroom. THAT NIGHT. Before our realtor came over to take pictures to put our house on the market. Pictures centered around close-up pictures of our bathtub, of course. Oh no wait! He only took one half-assed show of our bathroom that I think maybe caught an edge of our shower stall.

Did I mention all the windows were closed and my son with his tiny baby angelic lungs was running around in this funk which was practically like a green haze from a Scooby Doo cartoon?

Item #2: Our electric dog fence broke. I don't know when. It takes the dogs (and us) a few days to figure it out, but once they do, they are Born Free on at least a once daily basis. So today we decide it is a Priority for DH to fix it. A process that usually takes between 20 and 60 minutes depending how hard it is for him to isolate where the line broke. Mr. Squirrel is usually the culprit, and once you twist in extra wire to continue the circuit and rebury it, boom you're done.

Here's what occurred, today ...

3:30 Matthew and I (REMEMBER I AM PREGNANT) lay down for a nap when DH goes outside to fix fence.

4:10 Wake up to doorbell and fervent knocking. Sweet little girl down the street informs me Murphy and Bogey are "playing at the park."

4:11 I oh so patiently inform my husband (who is outside, mind you) that the dogs are not 10 feet away and invisible as he must have suspected ... but are at the part 2 blocks away.

4:12 Back to sleep in a huff.

6:30 Wake up to find DH chatting with neighbor. Upon request for a progress update, I learn we have "isolated a break in the line" but not fixed it.

Then proudly tells me how he HAS however raked the yard and picked up the dog poop. You know, those mission critical items.

6:31 Sigh heavily, stomp around, go get Matthew up from nap.

6:40 Join Michael across the street talking to neighbor. (Break in sarcastic tone: Found out our neighbor Jackie who's been trying forever is PREGNANT and due just a couple weeks after us. Yahoo!)

7:00 Go back to irritated when Michael and Jackie recount, "Do you know where those dogs were today?" "At the park." "No! They ran up to the train tracks! I/Mike was running down the tracks after them." Stricken look from me. "My adrenaline was pumping. I just kept waiting for that train to come." I patiently take it in - because I am already mentally trying to block this information that several important members of my family could have got killed by the choo choo while I napped. And that my husband knew this, yet instead of fixing the fence to prevent it in the future, focused on scooping the poop.

7:10 DH finally goes back to work and fixes first break but then realizes there must be more than one break. Line still not working. Outside now in near dark.

7:30 Poke my head out to let DH know I've ordered takeout and will be leaving to get it and taking Matthew. Find him chatting with different neighbor. This one's a musician and is showing Mike his ukele (no comments, please) and the broken strings.

I momentarily lose it. "How's it going? FIXED YET? Just don't want those dogs on the TRAIN TRACKS AGAIN."

It gets boring after this because I go get food and RedBox movie, and come home to find he fixed the fence. Lovely family story. All's well.

But still. You see my points. You are on my side. right, girl-powered-blog-readership?

Blessings

Today we found out the news we've been waiting to hear since Dec. 25, the day we found out we were pregnant. We found out we're having a little baby girl.

And, we found out she's developing perfectly. She was wiggling around, perfect size, and appeared perfectly healthy.

So I just posted about this on my other blog. And turned the blog template pink, and posted cute pictures of Matthew wearing his special big brother t-shirt. And was just really happy and just la la la, I'm posting about having a girl, isn't this fun?

And then, as I'm cruising through my regular blog reading list ... I stumble across this post on Not That You Asked.

And now I'm sitting here in tears, barely able to talk to Michael about why I'm crying. About a stranger's story, about still more strangers - and their sweet 16 month old baby girl who's very very sick with cancer.

So here comes the cliche but my God, it makes me realize how blessed we are.

And it's not because I'm getting the girl I was so publicly hoping for. It's because I have a beautiful healthy kid sleeping peacefully in the other room, in the nursery we are able to financially provide for him. Because he was cared for today by the loving nanny we're able to hire. Because we both have steady jobs.

Mostly though, because Matthew's been perfectly healthy for these first two years of his life, minus his rvery minor little surgery. For which I had financial coverage, and good medical access.

I guess this post hit me so hard tonight - well, besides the heartbreaking photo - maybe because it reminds me how even the blessings you do have can seem like an illusion that falls apart in one second, with one doctor visit. How the world can just suck to unbelievable levels sometimes, and tends to hit the wrong people.

And how, until the day it hits you, and maybe even when it does, you have to work as hard as you can to keep yourself honest and just appreciate every single thing you have going for you.

Ignore the daily bullshit like work and deadlines and househunts and dog hair that just doesn't matter. And count your blessings, every single tiny and seemingly insignificant one. I guess it's not a cliche for nothing.