It is now the day before Thanksgiving, and I am astonished at how time has flown these past weeks. We moved into our very own house in California on Nov. 1, and since then we have been steadily unpacking, cleaning, painting; hanging curtain rods, towel rods, pictures, etc. and generally staying pretty busy. Our garage is nearly empty of full boxes and we are almost to where we can park a car in there. Just need to get a new remote somehow. We'll have a fence around our pool next week, we have new carpet in the living room, we have a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall in our living room where little fingers cannot reach it, and things are looking good. I cannot express how wonderful it is to walk into my own bedroom, with its own master bath and my very own walk-in closet. I can find my clothes easily and am getting to where I can find bills and other important paperwork and similar stuff pretty easily too. After three-plus months of living out of suitcases and NOT being able to find things very well at all, this is a huge blessing.
We have been warmly welcomed and continue to be warmly supported by the wonderful members of our church family here in the Visalia 2nd Ward of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Their kindness and consideration have been overwhelming.
We still miss our dear friends in Alabama. This is the unfortunate part of moving -- leaving loved ones behind. My one consolation is that we now have the Internet and flat-rate long-distance to stay in touch more easily and inexpensively.
Our girls are adjusting well; Brianna is the oldest and therefore having the hardest time getting settled in to her new school, but I can say from experience that this is simply something that time will solve. In the meantime, it's a bit stinky. She does have a very cool bedroom of her own to enjoy and little things like going to see the new "Twilight" movie with her mom. :)
The weather is finally turning cooler, and I am able to make soups. I love soups. I probably still belong in cooler parts of the country, but as fate would have it, I've ended up in warm locales. As much as I enjoy cooler weather, I admit I do not miss snow.
So in honor of this wonderful holiday, here is a short list of my greatly appreciated blessings (completely abridged and not at all complete, mind you):
1. A husband who is fun, laid-back, nice to be around, helpful, supportive, understanding, cute, sweet, and many more lovely adjectives. We've enjoyed 15 years together.
2. Daughters who are beautiful, fun, delightful, generally obedient, helpful, smart, talented, and very sweet. They amaze me and impress me on a regular basis.
3. Family who are loving and supportive and unfortunately spread out across the continent.
4. Faith in God and knowing he has a plan for me and my life. The gospel that centers around Jesus Christ gives me strength and a foundation for living and has brought all good things in my life.
5. Friends. You know who you are. If you're reading this, bless you! You are
the best. I couldn't have survived this long without you. I have laughed, cried, talked myself hoarse, been comforted, been uplifted because of you. I look forward to all living on the same street in heaven one day.
6. The world around me. It's varied, it's gorgeous. It's amazing and fascinating. I have seen much of it (but not nearly enough yet) and I have been awed by its diversity and beauty.
7. Chocolate. Ice cream. And the corollary: gyms. I actually do enjoy my workouts.
8. Music, art, good films and especially good books.
9. My experiences. The cool places I've been, the things I've done, the memories I carry around with me everywhere.
10. Life. Isn't it amazing?
I have so many things to write but other things to do, but this encapsulates my life recently. It's been down, up, down, down, down, up. But it's there and it's definitely always interesting.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
I Tempted Fate and Fate Won, yeahhhh
OK, so I was really stupid to start making arrangements. I was even stupider to write about it. I said I was tempting Fate, didn't I? And I did. We should have closed pretty easily on this house loan on Friday, moved in on Saturday. So Monday afternoon, Tuesday, I get phone calls from the loan guy, saying the underwriters wanted more detailed info. I got up out of my sickbed (where I was hoping to actually SLEEP) and dug through the filing cabinet to find info that might help. Then I logged on to a website. I saved a PDF file and emailed it to the loan guy. Loan guy calls back, saying he got said attachment. They were wondering if I could craft a little letter to go along with that paperwork, explaining more info. Did that. OK, fine. No more nap, baby up. Kids home. No sleep. Picture me, dragging around, lying back in sickbed.
Today, I feel a little better, go to Costco, buy some shelf liner for the cupboards, etc., that I hope to be using in a few days. Yeah, sure. Noon, I email said loan officer. What's the update? Oh, he emails back later, (after a half-hour nap which wasn't nearly enough) the paperwork is all done and good to go, but now the title company is waiting for a really simple piece of paperwork from the bank who's selling the house. You'd think they'd have gotten that ready before now. But no. So we're now waiting on the bank. Ha.
So yeah, I'm starting to fall to pieces. Let's just say I'm glad no one other than some kids and sister-in-law were present to watch my breakdown. I sobbed on the phone to my husband at work, who is now feeling sick too but can't take sick time because, hey, he just started working there 6 weeks ago and hasn't qualified for that quite yet. So he's sounding like Ton Loc. If you know who that is. But a patient or coworker said that's what he sounded like, and yeah, I have to concur, he did sound like Ton Loc. A Filipino one. I blubber for 7 minutes, he listens while treating a patient, and I get off, not feeling any better; in fact, I feel worse for blubbering to him while he's sick AND trying to work. I have no one else to call. Except the satellite company and the TV installation people and the storage facility that's got our stuff in holding, and -- somehow -- all the people who have now committed to help us move on Saturday. I don't even like to think about it.
So, word of advice. Don't tempt Fate. It will always come back and bite you in the you-know-where. And unfortunately, my you-know-where is just bigger than it used to be, thanks to all the stress. My hormones are completely out of whack. I even visited an acupuncturist today, for the first time -- I'm so out of whack that conventional medicine sure as heck isn't doin' it. I've done some alternate work in the past, but today was the first I'd ever had needles stuck in my skin. Not bad. My qi is absolutely sluggish and depleted, and my heartfire or something is hot or ... not sure. But it's all bad. The tip of my tongue is red. My pulse is sluggish. I'm depleted and sluggish. So I got needles stuck in my skin in hopes that one day my qi will be happy and no longer sluggish. Maybe that will lead to less ice cream in and less you-know-what for the Fates to bite.
If we get to move in this weekend, it's going to take the bank sending that piece of paper first thing tomorrow and some moving of mountains by my hardworking real estate agent, Heather. But I could really use a miracle. Everybody, cross your fingers and say your prayers.
Today, I feel a little better, go to Costco, buy some shelf liner for the cupboards, etc., that I hope to be using in a few days. Yeah, sure. Noon, I email said loan officer. What's the update? Oh, he emails back later, (after a half-hour nap which wasn't nearly enough) the paperwork is all done and good to go, but now the title company is waiting for a really simple piece of paperwork from the bank who's selling the house. You'd think they'd have gotten that ready before now. But no. So we're now waiting on the bank. Ha.
So yeah, I'm starting to fall to pieces. Let's just say I'm glad no one other than some kids and sister-in-law were present to watch my breakdown. I sobbed on the phone to my husband at work, who is now feeling sick too but can't take sick time because, hey, he just started working there 6 weeks ago and hasn't qualified for that quite yet. So he's sounding like Ton Loc. If you know who that is. But a patient or coworker said that's what he sounded like, and yeah, I have to concur, he did sound like Ton Loc. A Filipino one. I blubber for 7 minutes, he listens while treating a patient, and I get off, not feeling any better; in fact, I feel worse for blubbering to him while he's sick AND trying to work. I have no one else to call. Except the satellite company and the TV installation people and the storage facility that's got our stuff in holding, and -- somehow -- all the people who have now committed to help us move on Saturday. I don't even like to think about it.
So, word of advice. Don't tempt Fate. It will always come back and bite you in the you-know-where. And unfortunately, my you-know-where is just bigger than it used to be, thanks to all the stress. My hormones are completely out of whack. I even visited an acupuncturist today, for the first time -- I'm so out of whack that conventional medicine sure as heck isn't doin' it. I've done some alternate work in the past, but today was the first I'd ever had needles stuck in my skin. Not bad. My qi is absolutely sluggish and depleted, and my heartfire or something is hot or ... not sure. But it's all bad. The tip of my tongue is red. My pulse is sluggish. I'm depleted and sluggish. So I got needles stuck in my skin in hopes that one day my qi will be happy and no longer sluggish. Maybe that will lead to less ice cream in and less you-know-what for the Fates to bite.
If we get to move in this weekend, it's going to take the bank sending that piece of paper first thing tomorrow and some moving of mountains by my hardworking real estate agent, Heather. But I could really use a miracle. Everybody, cross your fingers and say your prayers.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Almost there...
So here we are, in California. We've been "living" here for two months, but it's not what I would call fully living. We've really been more in stasis or in suspended animation, so it seems. I've been sitting around waiting for ages. But now it seems that the waiting will end. We will be closing on our house purchase this week and actually moving in this weekend. (Knock on wood -- I don't want to anger the Fates by making such a bold claim...)
I've been getting things scheduled, too. Phone service, satellite, carpet installation, cleaning, etc. So exciting.
I have to note here that I am incredibly pleased, amazed, and heartened by our new ward. Our house is in the Visalia 2nd Ward boundaries, and the members of the Church in 2nd Ward are just about the friendliest, most helpful, warmest people I've seen in one group in a long time. After all we've been through these past months, it makes me feel so good to be welcomed so heartily. When we first attended church in the ward a few weeks ago (before General Conference and Stake Conference), it felt like the people in the ward were jumping over each other practically to say hello to us. And then their youth brought us cookies that week, and now that we're moving, one leader has now told Marce, "Don't worry about making any more phone calls -- we'll take care of it." I cannot express to these people what a difference this makes to me. I am eager to be of service to them once we are settled in and able to do something.
When it all comes down to it, the people in our lives are just the most important 'things' we have. "Stuff" is nice but people are just the best. I cannot say enough what deep feelings of friendship and love and gratitude I have for all the wonderful people who have blessed my life in some way or another. I look forward to one day living in one place where we won't be separated by hours and miles but can easily "stay in touch." Perhaps mansions all in one neighborhood in heaven? So this is my "shout-out" to wonderful friends. If you're reading this, you deserve this kudos. :)
And here's to moving and settling and an end to waiting. For now.
I've been getting things scheduled, too. Phone service, satellite, carpet installation, cleaning, etc. So exciting.
I have to note here that I am incredibly pleased, amazed, and heartened by our new ward. Our house is in the Visalia 2nd Ward boundaries, and the members of the Church in 2nd Ward are just about the friendliest, most helpful, warmest people I've seen in one group in a long time. After all we've been through these past months, it makes me feel so good to be welcomed so heartily. When we first attended church in the ward a few weeks ago (before General Conference and Stake Conference), it felt like the people in the ward were jumping over each other practically to say hello to us. And then their youth brought us cookies that week, and now that we're moving, one leader has now told Marce, "Don't worry about making any more phone calls -- we'll take care of it." I cannot express to these people what a difference this makes to me. I am eager to be of service to them once we are settled in and able to do something.
When it all comes down to it, the people in our lives are just the most important 'things' we have. "Stuff" is nice but people are just the best. I cannot say enough what deep feelings of friendship and love and gratitude I have for all the wonderful people who have blessed my life in some way or another. I look forward to one day living in one place where we won't be separated by hours and miles but can easily "stay in touch." Perhaps mansions all in one neighborhood in heaven? So this is my "shout-out" to wonderful friends. If you're reading this, you deserve this kudos. :)
And here's to moving and settling and an end to waiting. For now.
Monday, October 6, 2008
I love to wait... ha ha ha ha
So, betcha thought I'd be done with waiting now, right? Wrong. House is still there, sitting, waiting for us. Closing is still a thing of the future. We're hoping that will be Friday. But that's assuming we can get a few items fixed beforehand, since we're getting an FHA loan. So closing might still be next week.... sigh. We went to Lowe's last week and ordered our beautiful new carpet for the living room and bought paint for all the rooms in the house. It's going to be lovely. We bought a Blu-Ray player and are shopping for the right TV. We've got a good place here in town that's going to mount it on the wall in the living room above the fireplace and get the system all set up for us. The TV and components will all be high above little fingers' reach. We hope. The house is going to be lovely. So exciting. Once we actually OWN it and can get in there and clean and paint and so on. It's going to be a good amount of work, but my fingers are itching to do it. After I'm done with all that painting, etc., my fingers will be curled into a claw for a good month, like they were 2 years ago after all the work we did on our house in Anniston (which is still for sale, by the way, if you know someone there looking for a gorgeous house for a reasonable price...).
Meanwhile, I sit. I wait. I try to keep myself busy, be useful. I bought a beautiful new quilt and shams for Brianna's room, which is going to look awesome. She's lucky enough to be in a room on the first floor with doors that open out onto the patio and backyard. Too bad, Brianna!
We even bought magnetic paint for the girls' rooms. This is a way cool thing. You paint it on the wall, two or three coats as a primer. Then you paint over that with a regular color paint. And the kids can just stick stuff on the wall with magnets, as if it were a giant refrigerator! No nails, no refrigerator overrun with art projects. That's going to be lots of fun.
I have been busy updating my website, Rated Reads. I'm very pleased with how it's coming along. I got good attention from the article run in the Deseret News and online Mormon Times. I've gotten some good contributors, too, so I can get many more reviews on the site now. I just added a blog and RSS feed, too. I'm excited about it. I think it's a great place for people to visit and get ideas of good books to read. I just can't wait to get in my own house and get all my books put up on shelves again! Poor things, they're sitting in boxes.
I also plan to get back to some writing soon. I started a YA book a while back and have been busily thinking on it for a while. Time to get some real writing done.
Here's to waiting...
Meanwhile, I sit. I wait. I try to keep myself busy, be useful. I bought a beautiful new quilt and shams for Brianna's room, which is going to look awesome. She's lucky enough to be in a room on the first floor with doors that open out onto the patio and backyard. Too bad, Brianna!
We even bought magnetic paint for the girls' rooms. This is a way cool thing. You paint it on the wall, two or three coats as a primer. Then you paint over that with a regular color paint. And the kids can just stick stuff on the wall with magnets, as if it were a giant refrigerator! No nails, no refrigerator overrun with art projects. That's going to be lots of fun.
I have been busy updating my website, Rated Reads. I'm very pleased with how it's coming along. I got good attention from the article run in the Deseret News and online Mormon Times. I've gotten some good contributors, too, so I can get many more reviews on the site now. I just added a blog and RSS feed, too. I'm excited about it. I think it's a great place for people to visit and get ideas of good books to read. I just can't wait to get in my own house and get all my books put up on shelves again! Poor things, they're sitting in boxes.
I also plan to get back to some writing soon. I started a YA book a while back and have been busily thinking on it for a while. Time to get some real writing done.
Here's to waiting...
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
News at last
OK, so I'm no longer waiting... Well, I'm waiting for different things now. Last Friday we officially found a house. I walked through it on Thursday, put in an offer late that evening (it's bank-owned, naturally) and then got a counter-offer from the bank first thing in the morning, countered back, and then the bank actually -- DRUMROLL, PLEASE -- accepted my offer on Friday afternoon! My real estate agent called that morning with a "are you sitting down?" and then that afternoon with a "I can't believe this!". I had to agree. What with the other two houses that are short-sale/bank-owned not budging at all in all this time, this bank's rapid response and generous acceptance of our counter was astounding -- and nearly miraculous. I felt positively giddy as I pondered the idea of having an actual house to live in sometime in the definitively near future.
The giddiness has eased and increased, alternately, with paperwork to fill out and information to gather, and so on; it has increased as the paperwork has gotten mostly done. Now only a few items remain and I can almost just sit back and wait with happy anticipation to simply move in. That, and shop. Not bad. Gotta find some carpet for the living room and a new HDTV. That will truly be the fun part.
Great news is, we don't have to do much work on it. Eventually, some painting. Some cleaning right away before we move in, of course. The house has a pool, so we'll need a fence right around the pool; there's already a fence around the whole backyard, of course. I would just like to be able to send the girls out to the backyard to play without worrying about the pool situation. So that'll be the next thing.
It's just so thrilling. A house of our own. Five bedrooms, three baths, a pretty neighborhood with lots of trees and established vegetation. A quiet little cul-de-sac tucked away a few streets removed from the main drag. The girls can bike around the neighborhood. Play. I might be able to have some quiet time inside the house while they're out in the California sunshine. Aaahhh. And I think I'll do some relaxing skinny-dipping at night when I am all alone. Just me and quiet, still water. Aaahhh.
My Rated Reads site just got some good publicity this week from an article run about it in the Deseret News' Mormon Times section online. I am thrilled that lots of people have taken a good look through the site and sent emails to thank me for the work I've been doing. I knew when I came up with the idea sometime early last year that it was a really great resource. It just needed some good publicity and word of mouth. Now some readers have emailed saying they got sent a link from their moms or something similar. Now that's what I was looking for. I hope it continues. I am excited about the possibility of having lots of reviews and ratings and plenty of new material all the time for readers who would like clean books to read. So ... life is moving forward. I'm still plenty busy. But I'm not treading water anymore, or pushing a boulder uphill.
Yahooooooo!!!!
The giddiness has eased and increased, alternately, with paperwork to fill out and information to gather, and so on; it has increased as the paperwork has gotten mostly done. Now only a few items remain and I can almost just sit back and wait with happy anticipation to simply move in. That, and shop. Not bad. Gotta find some carpet for the living room and a new HDTV. That will truly be the fun part.
Great news is, we don't have to do much work on it. Eventually, some painting. Some cleaning right away before we move in, of course. The house has a pool, so we'll need a fence right around the pool; there's already a fence around the whole backyard, of course. I would just like to be able to send the girls out to the backyard to play without worrying about the pool situation. So that'll be the next thing.
It's just so thrilling. A house of our own. Five bedrooms, three baths, a pretty neighborhood with lots of trees and established vegetation. A quiet little cul-de-sac tucked away a few streets removed from the main drag. The girls can bike around the neighborhood. Play. I might be able to have some quiet time inside the house while they're out in the California sunshine. Aaahhh. And I think I'll do some relaxing skinny-dipping at night when I am all alone. Just me and quiet, still water. Aaahhh.
My Rated Reads site just got some good publicity this week from an article run about it in the Deseret News' Mormon Times section online. I am thrilled that lots of people have taken a good look through the site and sent emails to thank me for the work I've been doing. I knew when I came up with the idea sometime early last year that it was a really great resource. It just needed some good publicity and word of mouth. Now some readers have emailed saying they got sent a link from their moms or something similar. Now that's what I was looking for. I hope it continues. I am excited about the possibility of having lots of reviews and ratings and plenty of new material all the time for readers who would like clean books to read. So ... life is moving forward. I'm still plenty busy. But I'm not treading water anymore, or pushing a boulder uphill.
Yahooooooo!!!!
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Funny Farm, CA
So this area here in the Central Valley of California is agricultural. All surrounding this small city are farms and orchards -- walnuts, raisins, fruits and vegetables of all kinds. Sadly, there are lots of new housing developments fairly recently built and still being built. And apparently some walnut orchards are set to be flattened for even more development of some kind pretty soon.
So it's all about farms. I'm convinced that my new home here is about to be the Funny Farm, however. I've been holding up (I think) remarkably well over the past weeks. I've been cool and calm and resilient under a whole huge monster amount of pressure. But I'm warming up.
A week ago, we put in an offer on a home we really like that's been foreclosed on. It needs work, but we kind of like it that way. And it should be a good deal, especially for all its square footage. It's also very close to schools and church -- two or three blocks! Very cool. Lots of storage space, neat touches. Terrible paint job inside. But we can do that. Also needs a new roof. So we put in a reasonable offer, and the bank took two days to reject it outright. Put in another one. Two more days, another outright rejection. No countering. arrrrrrgggggggh!! I have also now had my children out of school for a week, thinking we'd have a contract put together by this point on the house so we could just enroll them in the right school now without having to enroll them where we're staying temporarily at the moment and then moving them. So much for that. I'm just going to have to enroll them tomorrow and be done with it.
And Marce is supposed to start working on Monday. Now, since he's a medical professional, he's supposed to have a license to practice. He had one here in California 10 years ago -- he got his first license here, in fact. Then we moved to Alabama and he got his license there, and the CA one lapsed. So we had to apply to get one here again. Well, the CA PT board has been most useless, indeed. Slow and slower. It's been a month since we submitted the application, and a week since the application fee check was cashed at our bank in Alabama. So how long will it be until he actually has a license again? I mean, really. He had one here before. He hasn't committed any felonies. Or misdemeanors, for that matter. So here we are, still no license to practice. So as of today, since he has no license, he's going to get to start working on Monday as an "aide," at a third of his pay. Yay. Then as soon as he gets his license he can work regular and get paid right.
I suppose it doesn't much matter. We don't have a house to move into, so it's not like we're going to have a house payment here anytime soon at the rate we're going. Of course, we still have a house in Alabama that's not sold yet (it's been on the market for a month, so.... ), but here we are. Homeless and a ton of slightly beat-up stuff in two big storage units, and living out of a suitcase in a house of 14 people. I'm sure that tomorrow as soon as we enroll the girls in the schools here, then we'll finally get somewhere with the bank and I'll have to transfer them in a week to the schools on the other side of town. At least there's only one unified school district. It would be worse if there were five school districts in town, like there are in Anniston. I suppose I should be grateful for the tiniest of blessings at this point. I have to admit, however, that I'm not feeling incredibly grateful. I'm swerving over to the bitter and nasty end of the scale.
Cross your fingers, pray, etc. whatever will help me to get over this huge, nasty hump. That and a whole tub of ice cream. Good thing I've found a gym here with a trial membership for the week. I've been spending some good hours there working out some of my frustrations.
So it's all about farms. I'm convinced that my new home here is about to be the Funny Farm, however. I've been holding up (I think) remarkably well over the past weeks. I've been cool and calm and resilient under a whole huge monster amount of pressure. But I'm warming up.
A week ago, we put in an offer on a home we really like that's been foreclosed on. It needs work, but we kind of like it that way. And it should be a good deal, especially for all its square footage. It's also very close to schools and church -- two or three blocks! Very cool. Lots of storage space, neat touches. Terrible paint job inside. But we can do that. Also needs a new roof. So we put in a reasonable offer, and the bank took two days to reject it outright. Put in another one. Two more days, another outright rejection. No countering. arrrrrrgggggggh!! I have also now had my children out of school for a week, thinking we'd have a contract put together by this point on the house so we could just enroll them in the right school now without having to enroll them where we're staying temporarily at the moment and then moving them. So much for that. I'm just going to have to enroll them tomorrow and be done with it.
And Marce is supposed to start working on Monday. Now, since he's a medical professional, he's supposed to have a license to practice. He had one here in California 10 years ago -- he got his first license here, in fact. Then we moved to Alabama and he got his license there, and the CA one lapsed. So we had to apply to get one here again. Well, the CA PT board has been most useless, indeed. Slow and slower. It's been a month since we submitted the application, and a week since the application fee check was cashed at our bank in Alabama. So how long will it be until he actually has a license again? I mean, really. He had one here before. He hasn't committed any felonies. Or misdemeanors, for that matter. So here we are, still no license to practice. So as of today, since he has no license, he's going to get to start working on Monday as an "aide," at a third of his pay. Yay. Then as soon as he gets his license he can work regular and get paid right.
I suppose it doesn't much matter. We don't have a house to move into, so it's not like we're going to have a house payment here anytime soon at the rate we're going. Of course, we still have a house in Alabama that's not sold yet (it's been on the market for a month, so.... ), but here we are. Homeless and a ton of slightly beat-up stuff in two big storage units, and living out of a suitcase in a house of 14 people. I'm sure that tomorrow as soon as we enroll the girls in the schools here, then we'll finally get somewhere with the bank and I'll have to transfer them in a week to the schools on the other side of town. At least there's only one unified school district. It would be worse if there were five school districts in town, like there are in Anniston. I suppose I should be grateful for the tiniest of blessings at this point. I have to admit, however, that I'm not feeling incredibly grateful. I'm swerving over to the bitter and nasty end of the scale.
Cross your fingers, pray, etc. whatever will help me to get over this huge, nasty hump. That and a whole tub of ice cream. Good thing I've found a gym here with a trial membership for the week. I've been spending some good hours there working out some of my frustrations.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Fati-gwayed
In a shoutout to my friend Wonder, may I just say I was quite fah-tee-gwayed yesterday. We are now in Visalia. Our vehicles arrived the day after we did, and it was very satisfying to see our cars arrive here to join us. The rest of the stuff arrived the next day. That was very satisfying to see, too, but then it meant a HUGE amount of work in a short time. Marce and I, our sister-in-law (you GO, girl!), two missionaries, and four others (including an 11-year-old boy) participated in unloading the whole almost-28-feet of tractor trailer stuffed full of our material possessions. In 6 hours. Marce and I were pretty steady going that whole time, with the others kind of coming and going. It was unreal, looking at that huge truck full of things, packed to the gills, and knowing that we had to get it all transferred into a storage shed. Very soon after starting, I realized the one storage shed we had reserved (10x20) was NOT going to do it. So I got another one across the little driveway, and we had two places to put our stuff.
The sun beat down on us, and we went through a bunch of bottles of water and a couple of jugs of Gatorade. I didn't eat lunch for fear I'd just want to throw up. Towards the end of the afternoon, though, we both wanted to throw up from the work and heat. But we didn't. We held out. We managed to get it all unloaded, so the trucking company could pick up the truck today and get it out of the way of other people's storage sheds.
So we were majorly fatigued. And dirty and dusty. Showers have never felt better. And we celebrated with a fantastic Mexican dinner at a restaurant I found in downtown Visalia. Picked it out of the phone book. New fave Mexican place. It was wonderful. There were a number of Mexican places back in Anniston, but I never found anything I really liked. This was perfect. Hit the spot! We'll be going back soon.
So I fell into bed shortly after 9 p.m. and slept until 6:30. Then I went back to sleep after a bit until almost 8. Then I slept for almost 3 hours midday. I'm feeling a bit more like myself now. And no more moving for about another month, when we'll get to put all that stuff from the sheds onto moving trucks and take it across town and put them -- at last -- into our new home. o
We found a really cool house here. It's almost 3000 square feet, not counting the basement, and it's got a way cool front door. Medieval. It's got a little door set in the old wood, and metal bars across that. There's a second set of stairs in the back of the house going from the kitchen up to a small bedroom that I'm claiming as my office. Tons of storage space, lots of room to put all that junk we just carted cross-country and hefted in and out of that huge tractor-trailer. I don't want to have to move EVER AGAIN. I said that 2 years ago when we moved into our bigger house in Anniston, and I am saying it now with even greater fervor. We will only move again if we get incredibly rich and a moving company can do it entirely for us. It cost a small fortune to get here as it was, and that was supplemented with the blood, sweat and tears of us and a whole lot of incredibly dedicated friends who are now probably quite glad we're not around to be moved anymore!
So now we wait. We put in an offer on this house today and hope it will yield a contract within just a few days (at least this one's not on short sale -- it's already been foreclosed on) so we can have proof of some kind of residence so the girls can start school. School started today but we're just having to let them be truant for a few days. But then they can start in their permanent schools and not have to switch. The house is just a few blocks from the elementary, middle and high schools, and two blocks away from the church. That is very handy indeed. The girls can walk and won't even have to school-bus it. And with the high price of gas, I certainly won't be driving them!
And we wait for Marce's license to be approved/renewed here in California. He first received his license here 11 years ago. Since we've been in Alabama the past 10 years, he's had a license active there. Now getting it back here is taking some time. Please just pray for us that he'll get it renewed soon so he can start working next week! A paycheck would come in pretty handy, let me tell ya.
And we wait for our house to sell in Alabama. The money from that will also come in VERY handy.
So we wait. And I sleep, apparently. I am so eager to be in our own house again. But in the meantime, we are very much enjoying being with Marce's brother's family. Watching all the girls be with their cousins has been wonderful. It is really making it worth all this hassle. So neat.
And I sign off now to get some more sleep! I think it'll be awhile till I'm really "caught up."
The sun beat down on us, and we went through a bunch of bottles of water and a couple of jugs of Gatorade. I didn't eat lunch for fear I'd just want to throw up. Towards the end of the afternoon, though, we both wanted to throw up from the work and heat. But we didn't. We held out. We managed to get it all unloaded, so the trucking company could pick up the truck today and get it out of the way of other people's storage sheds.
So we were majorly fatigued. And dirty and dusty. Showers have never felt better. And we celebrated with a fantastic Mexican dinner at a restaurant I found in downtown Visalia. Picked it out of the phone book. New fave Mexican place. It was wonderful. There were a number of Mexican places back in Anniston, but I never found anything I really liked. This was perfect. Hit the spot! We'll be going back soon.
So I fell into bed shortly after 9 p.m. and slept until 6:30. Then I went back to sleep after a bit until almost 8. Then I slept for almost 3 hours midday. I'm feeling a bit more like myself now. And no more moving for about another month, when we'll get to put all that stuff from the sheds onto moving trucks and take it across town and put them -- at last -- into our new home. o
We found a really cool house here. It's almost 3000 square feet, not counting the basement, and it's got a way cool front door. Medieval. It's got a little door set in the old wood, and metal bars across that. There's a second set of stairs in the back of the house going from the kitchen up to a small bedroom that I'm claiming as my office. Tons of storage space, lots of room to put all that junk we just carted cross-country and hefted in and out of that huge tractor-trailer. I don't want to have to move EVER AGAIN. I said that 2 years ago when we moved into our bigger house in Anniston, and I am saying it now with even greater fervor. We will only move again if we get incredibly rich and a moving company can do it entirely for us. It cost a small fortune to get here as it was, and that was supplemented with the blood, sweat and tears of us and a whole lot of incredibly dedicated friends who are now probably quite glad we're not around to be moved anymore!
So now we wait. We put in an offer on this house today and hope it will yield a contract within just a few days (at least this one's not on short sale -- it's already been foreclosed on) so we can have proof of some kind of residence so the girls can start school. School started today but we're just having to let them be truant for a few days. But then they can start in their permanent schools and not have to switch. The house is just a few blocks from the elementary, middle and high schools, and two blocks away from the church. That is very handy indeed. The girls can walk and won't even have to school-bus it. And with the high price of gas, I certainly won't be driving them!
And we wait for Marce's license to be approved/renewed here in California. He first received his license here 11 years ago. Since we've been in Alabama the past 10 years, he's had a license active there. Now getting it back here is taking some time. Please just pray for us that he'll get it renewed soon so he can start working next week! A paycheck would come in pretty handy, let me tell ya.
And we wait for our house to sell in Alabama. The money from that will also come in VERY handy.
So we wait. And I sleep, apparently. I am so eager to be in our own house again. But in the meantime, we are very much enjoying being with Marce's brother's family. Watching all the girls be with their cousins has been wonderful. It is really making it worth all this hassle. So neat.
And I sign off now to get some more sleep! I think it'll be awhile till I'm really "caught up."
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Tragicomedy of errors
So I took an honors Shakespeare course my first semester at BYU. I had to write essays on what comedy and tragedy meant in Shakespearean terms. So I could technically say that our move has been a comedy. It will turn out to have a good ending as Shakespeare would write it. In the middle, however, it's just been a little shaky.
We are now in California, so at least we've made it this far. Our stuff is all on a 28-foot tractor-trailer (hopefully) bound for California. We should be getting it around Wednesday or Thursday in Visalia.
Here's the rundown on move week:
Last Saturday and Sunday I was dead sick. Coughing, wheezing in my upper respiratory area, dead tired, exhausted, etc. I stayed in bed all weekend. No packing.
On Monday of this week, the car shipper picked up both of our vehicles. I managed to raise myself from my sickbed enough to do some packing and organizing, with little breaks. The vehicles then were gone and we were without cars.
Late Monday night, Cami woke up feeling icky and then proceeded to throw up. She continued this throughout late evening Tuesday. I lost another whole day of packing. But I did go into work to do my last book page editing. I caved and rented a car so I'd be able to get there.
Wednesday was really crunch time. The trailer was delivered that afternoon. I tried to do more packing. I also did my last batches of laundry. Wednesday night I started to get panicky.
Thursday was it. Friends came in that morning to help me pack up everything I hadn't gotten to, which was a whole heckuva lot. Sicknesses didn't help, of course. I still was hacking and wheezing, but I had enough energy to drag myself around to pack and give directions.
Marce had his last day of work. He came home around 11 a.m. I sent him to go get the little rental Budget truck we needed solely for its ramp, which turned out not to be a huge help. But the tractor-trailer didn't have a ramp, and it was 4 feet off the ground. Just picture it: huge refrigerator (I love it so I wouldn't possibly leave it behind), washer, dryer. Heavy sleeper sofa.
Shortly after I sent Marce to get the truck, an Alagasco pickup parked on the street in front of my house. It was towing a strange driller truck. I felt a bit panicky. I asked, "So, gas people, whatsa happenin?" Gas leak. Gotta fix it. Yeah, um, not really the ideal time for you to be doing heavy work like this out front of my house. Oh well. Most likely won't be in the way. We'll cross our fingers.
An hour later, it started dumping rain. Stopped in half an hour. I am still inside, wheezing away.
We're packing, men are loading the truck. Are we making progress? Doesn't look like it.
A couple hours later, I am trying to make arrangements for Mac, our cat, to be shipped via Delta's air cargo. I'm on the phone 45 minutes before I get a workable plan figured out.
Two hours later, Mac has escaped the hubbub of the house. He hides under the house in the crawl space.
Two hours after that, Marce tries to get Mac out from under the house. He goes in the crawl space and instructs a horde of about 8 kids to position themselves out in the back yard, ready to grab Mac. Marce gets Mac out in the yard; none of the 8 kids catch him. Mac runs into other people's back yards. Marce, steam pretty much visibly coming out his ears, steps into the house, covered in mud. His old clothes go in the trash bag, and we wonder if we'll have to write off Mac. At 10 p.m. Mac shows back up at the back door, meowing. I quietly try to get him inside. He runs away, never to be seen again before we leave town. Today, I canceled his reservation to be shipped. We're sad, Mac is free, and we save about $350 in shipping and associated costs.
Around 7 p.m. Marce surveys the house. I've been surveying it myself. It doesn't look very empty. We've been working our friends like dogs, and there seems to be no end in sight. Marce starts to panic. I feel for him on the one hand but on the other say, "So now you get why I've been so stressed for a month?" I try to stay strong in his panicky moment. How are we gonna do this? We just HAVE TO, that's how.
We're still in the house just past 10 p.m. We have a bunch of odds and ends still scattered, but the big stuff is all on the tractor-trailer. I've reserved 19 feet of the 28-foot trailer, and it's looking like we might use the whole darn thing. $163 extra per linear foot. Yikes!
We go to our hotel nearby and enjoy amazing showers. We could theoretically get 7 or 8 hours of sleep, but Marce and I probably get about 4 hours all told. Too much still weighs on our minds. We chow down on breakfast and get back to work.
We deliver our old entertainment center (yeah, we're not even taking that or the TV or a sofa) to a friend's house. We return the truck, which was $50 but almost useless. We race back to the house. We are helped tremendously by several loyal friends who see the look of despair and madness on our faces. We box up all the rest of the junk in the house and then leave behind a whole lot of stuff in the barn and a few odds and ends in the house for our friends to pick through and claim as their own.
We race to the hotel. First, I run to the school to get some forms for Marissa for her new school in California. We shower again. I rearrange the suitcases a bit. I try to make sure the huge suitcase is almost entirely clothes so it doesn't go over the 50 pound weight limit. We run by Marce's work for a check. We run in the bank to do three transactions. We hustle to the car rental place to return the car. We scoot out of town and cross our fingers, since it's 12:15 p.m. and our flight leaves at 2:10 p.m. and it's a one-hour drive to the airport. Our good comrade from the ward and neighbor down the street drives us all and our luggage and carry-ons. We make it to the airport at 1:20. We check in (the big bag weighs 59 pounds. Arrgh. $25 extra charge. And no, I don't think I can rearrange it to get 9 pounds out. I'll be happy to fork over 25 bucks.) We go through security. I pay $23 for three sandwiches and a banana to hold us over until we reach Chicago. We have a good flight. In Chicago, we have less than an hour before our next flight leaves, and we all swallow McDonald's burgers and fries in record time. We board our plane and sigh a huge sigh of relief that we are actually about done with this segment of our move.
And here we are at Marce's dad's house. It's Saturday, and we sleep some long naps indeed. I wash the sweat out of our clothes. I shower and even put on makeup and we all enjoy a nice dinner out with Marce's dad's family. Things are looking OK. But now comes the big second part of the move. Stay tuned for Act II. Let's cross our fingers on this one.
We are now in California, so at least we've made it this far. Our stuff is all on a 28-foot tractor-trailer (hopefully) bound for California. We should be getting it around Wednesday or Thursday in Visalia.
Here's the rundown on move week:
Last Saturday and Sunday I was dead sick. Coughing, wheezing in my upper respiratory area, dead tired, exhausted, etc. I stayed in bed all weekend. No packing.
On Monday of this week, the car shipper picked up both of our vehicles. I managed to raise myself from my sickbed enough to do some packing and organizing, with little breaks. The vehicles then were gone and we were without cars.
Late Monday night, Cami woke up feeling icky and then proceeded to throw up. She continued this throughout late evening Tuesday. I lost another whole day of packing. But I did go into work to do my last book page editing. I caved and rented a car so I'd be able to get there.
Wednesday was really crunch time. The trailer was delivered that afternoon. I tried to do more packing. I also did my last batches of laundry. Wednesday night I started to get panicky.
Thursday was it. Friends came in that morning to help me pack up everything I hadn't gotten to, which was a whole heckuva lot. Sicknesses didn't help, of course. I still was hacking and wheezing, but I had enough energy to drag myself around to pack and give directions.
Marce had his last day of work. He came home around 11 a.m. I sent him to go get the little rental Budget truck we needed solely for its ramp, which turned out not to be a huge help. But the tractor-trailer didn't have a ramp, and it was 4 feet off the ground. Just picture it: huge refrigerator (I love it so I wouldn't possibly leave it behind), washer, dryer. Heavy sleeper sofa.
Shortly after I sent Marce to get the truck, an Alagasco pickup parked on the street in front of my house. It was towing a strange driller truck. I felt a bit panicky. I asked, "So, gas people, whatsa happenin?" Gas leak. Gotta fix it. Yeah, um, not really the ideal time for you to be doing heavy work like this out front of my house. Oh well. Most likely won't be in the way. We'll cross our fingers.
An hour later, it started dumping rain. Stopped in half an hour. I am still inside, wheezing away.
We're packing, men are loading the truck. Are we making progress? Doesn't look like it.
A couple hours later, I am trying to make arrangements for Mac, our cat, to be shipped via Delta's air cargo. I'm on the phone 45 minutes before I get a workable plan figured out.
Two hours later, Mac has escaped the hubbub of the house. He hides under the house in the crawl space.
Two hours after that, Marce tries to get Mac out from under the house. He goes in the crawl space and instructs a horde of about 8 kids to position themselves out in the back yard, ready to grab Mac. Marce gets Mac out in the yard; none of the 8 kids catch him. Mac runs into other people's back yards. Marce, steam pretty much visibly coming out his ears, steps into the house, covered in mud. His old clothes go in the trash bag, and we wonder if we'll have to write off Mac. At 10 p.m. Mac shows back up at the back door, meowing. I quietly try to get him inside. He runs away, never to be seen again before we leave town. Today, I canceled his reservation to be shipped. We're sad, Mac is free, and we save about $350 in shipping and associated costs.
Around 7 p.m. Marce surveys the house. I've been surveying it myself. It doesn't look very empty. We've been working our friends like dogs, and there seems to be no end in sight. Marce starts to panic. I feel for him on the one hand but on the other say, "So now you get why I've been so stressed for a month?" I try to stay strong in his panicky moment. How are we gonna do this? We just HAVE TO, that's how.
We're still in the house just past 10 p.m. We have a bunch of odds and ends still scattered, but the big stuff is all on the tractor-trailer. I've reserved 19 feet of the 28-foot trailer, and it's looking like we might use the whole darn thing. $163 extra per linear foot. Yikes!
We go to our hotel nearby and enjoy amazing showers. We could theoretically get 7 or 8 hours of sleep, but Marce and I probably get about 4 hours all told. Too much still weighs on our minds. We chow down on breakfast and get back to work.
We deliver our old entertainment center (yeah, we're not even taking that or the TV or a sofa) to a friend's house. We return the truck, which was $50 but almost useless. We race back to the house. We are helped tremendously by several loyal friends who see the look of despair and madness on our faces. We box up all the rest of the junk in the house and then leave behind a whole lot of stuff in the barn and a few odds and ends in the house for our friends to pick through and claim as their own.
We race to the hotel. First, I run to the school to get some forms for Marissa for her new school in California. We shower again. I rearrange the suitcases a bit. I try to make sure the huge suitcase is almost entirely clothes so it doesn't go over the 50 pound weight limit. We run by Marce's work for a check. We run in the bank to do three transactions. We hustle to the car rental place to return the car. We scoot out of town and cross our fingers, since it's 12:15 p.m. and our flight leaves at 2:10 p.m. and it's a one-hour drive to the airport. Our good comrade from the ward and neighbor down the street drives us all and our luggage and carry-ons. We make it to the airport at 1:20. We check in (the big bag weighs 59 pounds. Arrgh. $25 extra charge. And no, I don't think I can rearrange it to get 9 pounds out. I'll be happy to fork over 25 bucks.) We go through security. I pay $23 for three sandwiches and a banana to hold us over until we reach Chicago. We have a good flight. In Chicago, we have less than an hour before our next flight leaves, and we all swallow McDonald's burgers and fries in record time. We board our plane and sigh a huge sigh of relief that we are actually about done with this segment of our move.
And here we are at Marce's dad's house. It's Saturday, and we sleep some long naps indeed. I wash the sweat out of our clothes. I shower and even put on makeup and we all enjoy a nice dinner out with Marce's dad's family. Things are looking OK. But now comes the big second part of the move. Stay tuned for Act II. Let's cross our fingers on this one.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Moving
So it's official: we are truly out of limbo and really moving. The date is less than three weeks away. I've been packing like crazy, sorting, organizing, throwing, recycling, giving away, selling, and making phone calls. I've been choreographing car shipping, truck rental, plane tickets, home selling, home buying, Marce's job details and professional licensure, and all the other moves associated with moving. I'm starting to feel a bit like the girl with the red shoes (I think that's it), in which the poor girl of the fairy tale puts on shoes that dance with her in them and never stop. She gets danced to death because she can't take them off. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to take these "shoes" off in about 6 weeks, but I'm not sure I'll not be danced to death by then. Cross your fingers for me.
Sleep has become a commodity much sought-after but continually elusive. I'm like those commercials for sleep aids, before some butterfly flitters by a peacefully slumbering actor. I've been thinking the silver lining of this cloud is that at least I'll already be acclimated to the Pacific time zone, two hours earlier. Midnight here is a respectable 10 p.m. there. Voila! Of course, the other side is that I've been waking up at 5 or 6, so will I be waking at 3 or 4 there? I hope that I'll at least just be waking with the early light.
In the meantime, I'm still doing laundry, cooking (well, a little less), cleaning, doing dishes, prying fighting children apart, etc.
Either way, Visalia, here we come! We will definitely be in town by Aug. 11, the day before school registration. It would be nice to be in our own home, but we may very well be staying with family still. Should be quite a fun crowd!
Sleep has become a commodity much sought-after but continually elusive. I'm like those commercials for sleep aids, before some butterfly flitters by a peacefully slumbering actor. I've been thinking the silver lining of this cloud is that at least I'll already be acclimated to the Pacific time zone, two hours earlier. Midnight here is a respectable 10 p.m. there. Voila! Of course, the other side is that I've been waking up at 5 or 6, so will I be waking at 3 or 4 there? I hope that I'll at least just be waking with the early light.
In the meantime, I'm still doing laundry, cooking (well, a little less), cleaning, doing dishes, prying fighting children apart, etc.
Either way, Visalia, here we come! We will definitely be in town by Aug. 11, the day before school registration. It would be nice to be in our own home, but we may very well be staying with family still. Should be quite a fun crowd!
Reunited and it feels so ... odd
So last month was my high school 20-year reunion. Yikes! I can't believe it was 20 years ago I finished high school and was finally able to go West to college, what I'd dreamed about for years.
I didn't get to go to the 10th reunion because I was about to give birth to Marissa. Traveling in a car for about 6 hours didn't seem like a good idea at the time. I figured this time I was bound to go. Since we have been planning on moving, it was also a good time to attend, since I wouldn't be back for a while.
So I went. I wasn't happy about my larger figure (thanks, stress!) but I got gussied up in a pretty pink dress and put on makeup and actually spent 20 minutes with my hair. Rare I get to do THAT, I'll tell ya.
Aside from the weight, I was apprehensive. I wasn't particularly close to a lot of people in my high school, mainly because I was only there for 2 years. But I thought I would be happy to see several, so I went. It wasn't too bad. I was shocked at how OLD so many people looked! Some looked just the same, and several told me I looked exactly the same (I guess they were overlooking the weight gain). So it was all a fairly good boost for me as I realized that not everyone has stayed the same as 20 years ago, so I'm entitled to a little change. (That has kind of faded with the passage of a few weeks and the visuals I've gotten of myself in photos there. Aack! The mirror is much kinder.)
I stayed a few hours, showed off my "arm candy" (my handsome husband), and exchanged hugs and conversations. It was interesting how some of the less mature students I knew then have grown up and become pretty responsible, likable people! Very reassuring. Of course, there were a couple who were obnoxious then who have become ten times more obnoxious. Goes both ways, I guess.
All in all, I came out of it fairly unscathed. I just hope that if I go to the 50th, I'll have lost these 35 extra pounds...
I didn't get to go to the 10th reunion because I was about to give birth to Marissa. Traveling in a car for about 6 hours didn't seem like a good idea at the time. I figured this time I was bound to go. Since we have been planning on moving, it was also a good time to attend, since I wouldn't be back for a while.
So I went. I wasn't happy about my larger figure (thanks, stress!) but I got gussied up in a pretty pink dress and put on makeup and actually spent 20 minutes with my hair. Rare I get to do THAT, I'll tell ya.
Aside from the weight, I was apprehensive. I wasn't particularly close to a lot of people in my high school, mainly because I was only there for 2 years. But I thought I would be happy to see several, so I went. It wasn't too bad. I was shocked at how OLD so many people looked! Some looked just the same, and several told me I looked exactly the same (I guess they were overlooking the weight gain). So it was all a fairly good boost for me as I realized that not everyone has stayed the same as 20 years ago, so I'm entitled to a little change. (That has kind of faded with the passage of a few weeks and the visuals I've gotten of myself in photos there. Aack! The mirror is much kinder.)
I stayed a few hours, showed off my "arm candy" (my handsome husband), and exchanged hugs and conversations. It was interesting how some of the less mature students I knew then have grown up and become pretty responsible, likable people! Very reassuring. Of course, there were a couple who were obnoxious then who have become ten times more obnoxious. Goes both ways, I guess.
All in all, I came out of it fairly unscathed. I just hope that if I go to the 50th, I'll have lost these 35 extra pounds...
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Crazed
I think that with the very good possibility of a pending move and all the usual things going on, plus its being summertime, my brain just might explode. Even Marce is having a bit harder of a time getting to sleep at night, what with new interesting things popping up here and there. The night before last, I had a different real-estate search engine open and had made it a certain way through, and he kept on looking past where I had. So he comes to me at 10:45 at night (I was actually in bed, for once not staying up late reading -- the only quiet time I had alone) and says, "You've got to see this house." And he was right. We both LOVE it. It's "affordable" and is full of styles that we love. It reminds me a bit of the house we rented for a year in California before we moved here. So of course, we stayed up looking at all the pictures (of which there were 21, which was very nice) and me running numbers and hopping up and down a bit (literally) for him to allow me to take the keyboard and look up info on the agent so I could email her. Then we tossed around in bed for a while before we finally fell off to sleep.
So today, I decided it was really best for my health and sanity to take some time, first thing after I dropped off Charlotte at her "day care/camp/preschool" (whatever you'd like to call it), to take a nap. I dropped into bed around 10:15 and got up around 1 p.m. I am feeling a little more normal right now after having had some sleep. I still have lots of things to do (like pack, throw things away, give things away, ad nauseam) but I must have some energy to do them with.
The next thing coming up is my 20th high school reunion. That's this weekend. We're going to see Mom and I'll be trying to look my nicest for people I mostly haven't seen in 20 years. I'm kind of not looking forward to it. I know that there are people I'll be interested to visit with again, but I'm just kind of dreading it mostly because I'm kind of on the heavy side right now (thanks, stress...) and it's that typical "I hate people to see me like this" thing. It sounds terrible, but it's true. Just five years ago (or even three) I was looking trim and normal. Now... Arrrgh.
So I'm hoping that the weekend is fun, and from there, it will be a whirlwind of activity through the end of August. I almost wouldn't be surprised if I don't have another post on here until September. At least I'm somewhat up to date on here; my journal is another story (it was up to date... in March).
So today, I decided it was really best for my health and sanity to take some time, first thing after I dropped off Charlotte at her "day care/camp/preschool" (whatever you'd like to call it), to take a nap. I dropped into bed around 10:15 and got up around 1 p.m. I am feeling a little more normal right now after having had some sleep. I still have lots of things to do (like pack, throw things away, give things away, ad nauseam) but I must have some energy to do them with.
The next thing coming up is my 20th high school reunion. That's this weekend. We're going to see Mom and I'll be trying to look my nicest for people I mostly haven't seen in 20 years. I'm kind of not looking forward to it. I know that there are people I'll be interested to visit with again, but I'm just kind of dreading it mostly because I'm kind of on the heavy side right now (thanks, stress...) and it's that typical "I hate people to see me like this" thing. It sounds terrible, but it's true. Just five years ago (or even three) I was looking trim and normal. Now... Arrrgh.
So I'm hoping that the weekend is fun, and from there, it will be a whirlwind of activity through the end of August. I almost wouldn't be surprised if I don't have another post on here until September. At least I'm somewhat up to date on here; my journal is another story (it was up to date... in March).
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Leaving Limbo, We Hope
Marce now has an interview scheduled in California in two weeks. Things are moving along. It's exciting and a little scary. 'Cause that means we really are going to have to pack up and move, all the way across the country. It's 2,192 miles or so, according to Mapquest. Yikes! I just get butterflies (or some kind of bugs...) flittering around in my stomach when I think of all the possessions we have to move. I'm trying to shed them like our cats are shedding fur. But there
is always more stuff left, just as the cats seem to have endless amounts of fur to get rid of. I'm making a list now of all the big things to leave behind: the old, beat-up couch; the piano given to us free when we moved into our first place here; the car. The van we keep. It's crazy time. That's why I asked my doctor for some Valium or something similar the other day at a checkup! ;) Could be very useful, considering that swirling brain I've had lately on some evenings.
But seriously, life has been busy, but now I know it will swing into ultra-busy mode. It's a little nervous-making. But the move will be such a good thing for the girls, in particular, and nice for Marce. He'll be able to work in a rehab facility, with more neuro patients, 11 years after getting special training to do just that. Yay for Marce. Me, I'll just really, really miss my book page job here. I still have my website, though, so pass the word along about Rated Reads. I just love books!
is always more stuff left, just as the cats seem to have endless amounts of fur to get rid of. I'm making a list now of all the big things to leave behind: the old, beat-up couch; the piano given to us free when we moved into our first place here; the car. The van we keep. It's crazy time. That's why I asked my doctor for some Valium or something similar the other day at a checkup! ;) Could be very useful, considering that swirling brain I've had lately on some evenings.
But seriously, life has been busy, but now I know it will swing into ultra-busy mode. It's a little nervous-making. But the move will be such a good thing for the girls, in particular, and nice for Marce. He'll be able to work in a rehab facility, with more neuro patients, 11 years after getting special training to do just that. Yay for Marce. Me, I'll just really, really miss my book page job here. I still have my website, though, so pass the word along about Rated Reads. I just love books!
One Small Step for Charlotte-kind
She walked! She took four steps last night! Yay for Charlotte! What was really fun is that all of our family were gathered in the living room (Marce was watching the very disappointing final NBA game) and that I was on the phone with my mom. So all of us were able to see her take her first steps, and my mom got to hear us all cheering for her. Thrilling stuff. I have to admit, even on our fourth child, it's just as exciting as it was with our first. Could be even more so, since there are more of us to be excited! It's amazing how wondrous it is to watch a baby grow up and learn new things. It's always fresh and thrilling.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
De-camped and de-flea'd
So it's been an interesting week. I sent my oldest daughter off to our church's annual "girls camp." It's for young women ages 12 to 18. I went three years in a row when I was that age. I remember it was hot and muggy and miserable, since I was in Mississippi and Alabama at that time. I was SO grateful when it rained two of those years! I was singing hallelujahs.
Needless to say, I had the obvious feelings of "gee, I can't believe my baby is this old..." yada, yada. I took her and a few other girls up to the camp on Tuesday and watched them get settled in and start getting to know each other. I could tell that she didn't need a big kiss and hug from the ol' mom once she was dressed in her cute new camp T-shirt and sitting at a a table eating lunch with all the other girls. So I just let Cami kiss her and I stood at a very short distance waving. But I'd already given her the hug and kiss when it was just the two of us, no other girls around. So yes, she IS that old, and yes, she is old enough to want a little distance from me among a bunch of other teens. Whoa.
Before I went through all those hackneyed feelings, I was laughing a bit inwardly at the picture of her being at camp. I myself was never much of a camper. I was glad when it rained and we didn't have to go outside a pavilion and do stuff. We could just sing silly songs. I hate the hot weather and all the grunginess. And I am quite sure Brianna's not much of the camper either. She hated the YMCA kids day camp a few years ago that she tried a couple of times because it was hot and there were "lots of ants." Not the outdoorsgirl. So I'm smirking a bit picturing her there. Well, I WAS. Now I just picture her having fun and enjoying herself and then coming home to tell me all about it. That'll be tomorrow.
So on to the second topic. Brianna has been gone for two and a half days, and I haven't had her help with the younger girls. I've kind of missed that. Marce has had other things going on, including going up to the camp this evening in his church duties to participate as a leader. So I've handled things all on my own without any backup/support from older people like my husband or my competent 12-year-old. But during one evening we had "open" without anything going on, duties, etc., Marce and I chose to use our glorious time bathing the cats.
Yeah. I thought it would only take 15 minutes or so. No biggie. They've both been flea-infested so it was time for a good soaking and scrubbing with flea shampoo. Mac, the strong manly-man who's only 2, put up a big fight and left Marce looking like a druggie who shoots up both arms. We scrubbed him, pulled off a few fleas, and let him go. We grabbed Cocoa Puff, my sweet little stray I had to rescue a few months ago (she was obviously a good house cat before because she's spayed and de-clawed in the front and was obviously spoiled on soft food, which she ain't gettin' here on a regular basis, I can tell ya that) and put her in the clawfoot. (Hmm. Appropriate we're bathing the cats in the CLAW-foot tub....) She is much smaller and a whole lot furrier, and as I mentioned, claw-less in the front. We discovered that was REALLY nice. She made a few attempts to bite a few times, but she didn't put up a big fight. Which was a good thing. Because once we got that long fur all wet, and we could actually see under to her skin, we found a whole circus of fleas. We spent a solid half-hour or more crouched over the bathtub, picking at least a hundred fleas off her. We'd find them clustered three and four at a time in different spots and then grab them and try to pull them out. It was hard work, I tell ya. And we'd rinse, keep searching, and find three or four more. And on and on it went. She let out a few plaintive "me-rows" and sat there putting up a fruitless struggle on occasion. I felt so bad for her. I mean, I have no idea how many fleas we got off of her.
So there my dear husband and I were: huddled over a tub, holding down a scrawny-looking cat with fur plastered to her skin, meowing on occasion, picking off a ridiculous infestation. We're sopping wet from splashing and from sweat. I looked at him and had to laugh on numerous occasions: nice way to spend an evening with my beloved.
Life sure is good.
Needless to say, I had the obvious feelings of "gee, I can't believe my baby is this old..." yada, yada. I took her and a few other girls up to the camp on Tuesday and watched them get settled in and start getting to know each other. I could tell that she didn't need a big kiss and hug from the ol' mom once she was dressed in her cute new camp T-shirt and sitting at a a table eating lunch with all the other girls. So I just let Cami kiss her and I stood at a very short distance waving. But I'd already given her the hug and kiss when it was just the two of us, no other girls around. So yes, she IS that old, and yes, she is old enough to want a little distance from me among a bunch of other teens. Whoa.
Before I went through all those hackneyed feelings, I was laughing a bit inwardly at the picture of her being at camp. I myself was never much of a camper. I was glad when it rained and we didn't have to go outside a pavilion and do stuff. We could just sing silly songs. I hate the hot weather and all the grunginess. And I am quite sure Brianna's not much of the camper either. She hated the YMCA kids day camp a few years ago that she tried a couple of times because it was hot and there were "lots of ants." Not the outdoorsgirl. So I'm smirking a bit picturing her there. Well, I WAS. Now I just picture her having fun and enjoying herself and then coming home to tell me all about it. That'll be tomorrow.
So on to the second topic. Brianna has been gone for two and a half days, and I haven't had her help with the younger girls. I've kind of missed that. Marce has had other things going on, including going up to the camp this evening in his church duties to participate as a leader. So I've handled things all on my own without any backup/support from older people like my husband or my competent 12-year-old. But during one evening we had "open" without anything going on, duties, etc., Marce and I chose to use our glorious time bathing the cats.
Yeah. I thought it would only take 15 minutes or so. No biggie. They've both been flea-infested so it was time for a good soaking and scrubbing with flea shampoo. Mac, the strong manly-man who's only 2, put up a big fight and left Marce looking like a druggie who shoots up both arms. We scrubbed him, pulled off a few fleas, and let him go. We grabbed Cocoa Puff, my sweet little stray I had to rescue a few months ago (she was obviously a good house cat before because she's spayed and de-clawed in the front and was obviously spoiled on soft food, which she ain't gettin' here on a regular basis, I can tell ya that) and put her in the clawfoot. (Hmm. Appropriate we're bathing the cats in the CLAW-foot tub....) She is much smaller and a whole lot furrier, and as I mentioned, claw-less in the front. We discovered that was REALLY nice. She made a few attempts to bite a few times, but she didn't put up a big fight. Which was a good thing. Because once we got that long fur all wet, and we could actually see under to her skin, we found a whole circus of fleas. We spent a solid half-hour or more crouched over the bathtub, picking at least a hundred fleas off her. We'd find them clustered three and four at a time in different spots and then grab them and try to pull them out. It was hard work, I tell ya. And we'd rinse, keep searching, and find three or four more. And on and on it went. She let out a few plaintive "me-rows" and sat there putting up a fruitless struggle on occasion. I felt so bad for her. I mean, I have no idea how many fleas we got off of her.
So there my dear husband and I were: huddled over a tub, holding down a scrawny-looking cat with fur plastered to her skin, meowing on occasion, picking off a ridiculous infestation. We're sopping wet from splashing and from sweat. I looked at him and had to laugh on numerous occasions: nice way to spend an evening with my beloved.
Life sure is good.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Cool '70s vibe
OK, this is on a totally different note. But I got to go see a fun, fun performance of ABBA music on Saturday night. Here in Anniston we have a former fort that has been closed and turned into civilian use called McClellan. During the summer, they have been having a short series of orchestra performances out in a park there. On Saturday, this included the Alabama Symphony Orchestra performing with a group called Waterloo, a tribute band that does a really great imitation of ABBA. (If you want to see more about them, check out this link: http://www.abba-the-show.com/index.html)
They sounded fantastic. Really very close in sound, and their costumes and vibe were spot-on. The group is even Swedish, so they have that neat accent with all those soft, sibiliant "s's." The orchestra backing it up did a great job, and it had a really, deep, rich sound. On certain songs, the orchestra's presence was really spectacular. Most of the time, you wouldn't notice them obviously, but their backup gave real depth. My dad and I took Brianna to the performance, and we all just had a fun evening. I sang along with everything. Dad had gotten into ABBA back when I was about Brianna's age, and he started gathering up records, then CDs. So I grew up listening to them. Now their CDs are kind of my "traveling music." If I'm going on a trip, I throw those CDs in the car for sure.
I'd say, take a chance on the group if you ever have the opportunity!
They sounded fantastic. Really very close in sound, and their costumes and vibe were spot-on. The group is even Swedish, so they have that neat accent with all those soft, sibiliant "s's." The orchestra backing it up did a great job, and it had a really, deep, rich sound. On certain songs, the orchestra's presence was really spectacular. Most of the time, you wouldn't notice them obviously, but their backup gave real depth. My dad and I took Brianna to the performance, and we all just had a fun evening. I sang along with everything. Dad had gotten into ABBA back when I was about Brianna's age, and he started gathering up records, then CDs. So I grew up listening to them. Now their CDs are kind of my "traveling music." If I'm going on a trip, I throw those CDs in the car for sure.
I'd say, take a chance on the group if you ever have the opportunity!
Self-Flagellation
I'm starting to wonder (well, frankly, it's not the first time I've wondered this, but...) if I'm a masochist. I must enjoy rejection. That's why I became a writer.
Well, more specifically, I'm a writer who wants to be published. If I were just a writer doing it for my own pleasure, then I'd be fine. But, sadly, I'm one of those sorts who wants to publish and get my work out there for lots of other people to see. (Perhaps that's why I blog... Yikes. Well, no, really, I write this blog as a lazy way of keeping my friends up to date. Really. )
So I wrote a book about my experience as a mother and spent a good five years of my life writing, editing, and trying to get it published. I collected a lot of books about how to get published, as well as a file folder stuffed full of rejection letters from agents and publishers alike. I learned that it's nigh-near impossible to get a nonfiction book published unless you're some sort of expert, or have a really pitiful life story to share in the form of memoir. (Yeah, neither of my parents is an alcoholic, and I didn't grow up poor.) It sounds crass, but it's largely the truth in the publishing world. So I realized, hey, I'm going to have to self-publish. So I did. And I learned a lot more about publishing, as a result, and it was valuable information. I hope I've been able to put it to good use as I've tried to help some friends find publishers/agents. I can say I have helped a friend find an agent, which is more than I've been able to do for myself, so I suppose so far it's a success. Now we're waiting for his book to find a publisher. So, as I said, I at least can say my experience has been valuable in some way.
Now through the things I've learned, I thought that my best bet would be to work on children's books. I had an idea both for a picture book and for a middle-readers book. So I wrote one chapter on the latter about a year ago and have simply chewed over it in my mind ever since. I also sat down about a month and a half ago, I guess, and just wrote down the children's picture-book story. It took me three tries to get it right, to get into the right style and tone, but I did it to my great satisfaction. Then I edited it a bit more and felt very pleased with the result. I think it's a delightful, fun, silly little tale. So here comes the self-flagellation part: I decided to SEND OUT QUERY LETTERS to agents. I've sent out maybe 15 letters and emails, and I've gotten maybe 6 or 7 rejections so far. I started a new file folder. It's filling up with my little rejection letters. As much as it's to be expected that I won't get a positive response right away, it still kills me a little inside each and every time I open up an envelope with a standard rejection form in it. As if I don't have enough stuff to bother me as it is. Like possibly moving. Or all the other usual stuff. But I'm piling it on.
Even so, I feel inside that I'm on the right track. I am quite sure that writing books for young readers is where I'm supposed to go. So exactly how long will it take until I really get a "bite?" If I count my previous attempts at publication, I've been doing this for about 10 years, without any real encouragement. If I count this new situation, I suppose I'm at the very beginning of perhaps another 10-year run. I truly hope that this run will be more positive than the last. I mean, yeah, it's nice to learn things, and find valuable experience, etc etc. and to be able to help other people. But I'd REALLY like to find some success of my own. I always hope that I'm not one of those completely untalented types who is convinced they're talented. I'd hate to be one of the kinds of people who auditions for American Idol or some such thing, sure they're the next big star, but they can't even hit a note on-key. That's what bugs me the most, I think. Am I completely fooling myself? How many people ask themselves that question on a regular basis? Am I normal that way? Or am I abnormal in that I continue to cling doggedly to a goal that's truly pie in the sky?
I am a good editor and a passable writer when it comes to writing for the newspaper or magazines. I mean, on my first try, I got a story accepted for publication for The Friend, the Church magazine for kids. I saw that as a really good sign that I am meant to write for kids. But I would just love to have another little sign that at least I'm on the right track. Somebody throw me a bone!
Well, I'm just whining now. I should turn my pain into some good writing, rather than a blog rant. So, here I am, pulling out another rope to beat myself up with.
Well, more specifically, I'm a writer who wants to be published. If I were just a writer doing it for my own pleasure, then I'd be fine. But, sadly, I'm one of those sorts who wants to publish and get my work out there for lots of other people to see. (Perhaps that's why I blog... Yikes. Well, no, really, I write this blog as a lazy way of keeping my friends up to date. Really. )
So I wrote a book about my experience as a mother and spent a good five years of my life writing, editing, and trying to get it published. I collected a lot of books about how to get published, as well as a file folder stuffed full of rejection letters from agents and publishers alike. I learned that it's nigh-near impossible to get a nonfiction book published unless you're some sort of expert, or have a really pitiful life story to share in the form of memoir. (Yeah, neither of my parents is an alcoholic, and I didn't grow up poor.) It sounds crass, but it's largely the truth in the publishing world. So I realized, hey, I'm going to have to self-publish. So I did. And I learned a lot more about publishing, as a result, and it was valuable information. I hope I've been able to put it to good use as I've tried to help some friends find publishers/agents. I can say I have helped a friend find an agent, which is more than I've been able to do for myself, so I suppose so far it's a success. Now we're waiting for his book to find a publisher. So, as I said, I at least can say my experience has been valuable in some way.
Now through the things I've learned, I thought that my best bet would be to work on children's books. I had an idea both for a picture book and for a middle-readers book. So I wrote one chapter on the latter about a year ago and have simply chewed over it in my mind ever since. I also sat down about a month and a half ago, I guess, and just wrote down the children's picture-book story. It took me three tries to get it right, to get into the right style and tone, but I did it to my great satisfaction. Then I edited it a bit more and felt very pleased with the result. I think it's a delightful, fun, silly little tale. So here comes the self-flagellation part: I decided to SEND OUT QUERY LETTERS to agents. I've sent out maybe 15 letters and emails, and I've gotten maybe 6 or 7 rejections so far. I started a new file folder. It's filling up with my little rejection letters. As much as it's to be expected that I won't get a positive response right away, it still kills me a little inside each and every time I open up an envelope with a standard rejection form in it. As if I don't have enough stuff to bother me as it is. Like possibly moving. Or all the other usual stuff. But I'm piling it on.
Even so, I feel inside that I'm on the right track. I am quite sure that writing books for young readers is where I'm supposed to go. So exactly how long will it take until I really get a "bite?" If I count my previous attempts at publication, I've been doing this for about 10 years, without any real encouragement. If I count this new situation, I suppose I'm at the very beginning of perhaps another 10-year run. I truly hope that this run will be more positive than the last. I mean, yeah, it's nice to learn things, and find valuable experience, etc etc. and to be able to help other people. But I'd REALLY like to find some success of my own. I always hope that I'm not one of those completely untalented types who is convinced they're talented. I'd hate to be one of the kinds of people who auditions for American Idol or some such thing, sure they're the next big star, but they can't even hit a note on-key. That's what bugs me the most, I think. Am I completely fooling myself? How many people ask themselves that question on a regular basis? Am I normal that way? Or am I abnormal in that I continue to cling doggedly to a goal that's truly pie in the sky?
I am a good editor and a passable writer when it comes to writing for the newspaper or magazines. I mean, on my first try, I got a story accepted for publication for The Friend, the Church magazine for kids. I saw that as a really good sign that I am meant to write for kids. But I would just love to have another little sign that at least I'm on the right track. Somebody throw me a bone!
Well, I'm just whining now. I should turn my pain into some good writing, rather than a blog rant. So, here I am, pulling out another rope to beat myself up with.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Summer Cleaning, aka Battling Entropy
All you women who have ever been pregnant will probably know what I'm referring to when I say the phrase "nesting." It's that energy to clean up and organize that you get when it's almost time to have the baby. Gotta "feather the nest" for the new little chick.
Well, I can probably say I've been un-nesting. I've already got four little chicks, and they've done a whole hecka lotta feathering themselves over the years. And we've lived in the same town for exactly 10 years now. Although we moved houses two years ago, it was only a distance of 1 mile away. And it was a mess because all we did was throw junk in the car over and over again and move junk to a different location. I did not clear out as much junk as I would had I truly been "moving."
Well, I'm trying to un-feather our big nest just in case we actually DO move. And this time it won't be a mile away -- it'll be 3000 miles or so. And you just don't move junk that kind of distance. At least, I don't care to.
(For those who read "In Limbo," I mentioned we're waiting to move. We're still waiting, but at least we have found out that someone has given notice, so there will be an opening at the hospital Marce wants to work at. It's just now more waiting to see what the official position will be and when he'll get out for an interview.)
I thought of myself as a bit of a packrat when I was young. But since I've been an adult, I have thought of myself as a "thrower." I have packed up enough boxes over the years that I can't bear to have to pack any more than is absolutely necessary. And I am a bit of a neat freak and probably a touch OCD in the sense that clutter around me just heightens the clutter that is often my mind. It makes me a little "itchy" psychologically.
So this past week, I've used the time Charlotte has been at her "preschool" for a few hours at a time to clean out stuff while she's not underfoot. I told the girls I was going to clean out their room and they would help me decide what to give away. Even though on Tuesday, I filled a huge bag full of paper products for recycling, and a small bag for trash, pulled everything off shelves and from under beds, organized, and vacuumed up a few litters' worth of dust bunnies, Marce couldn't tell a difference when he walked in Cami and Marissa's room. So on Thursday, I went in there and worked some more to find dolls and stuffed animals to give away. We ended up with two paper bags full of them, which we took across the street to a place that helps children who have been abused. I am quite sure Marce still couldn't see a difference in their room, because the stuff primarily came from boxes under their bunk bed. I also organized their book shelf. Of course, I didn't give away a single book.
Even though my dear husband didn't see a difference in the girls' room, he did see a major difference in the kitchen. I spent a couple more hours on Tuesday in there. I threw away junk and cleaned and organized. A couple of trash bags went out to the garbage bin. And we could see our countertops! I went to the store and brought home a big watermelon and two cantaloupes and laid them on the counter, with plenty of room to spare.
I cleaned out the bathrooms a bit. While I've done this in the fairly recent past, this time was primarily for the purpose of getting all the blankets and towels off the large wire shelf so we could put tile on the floor. The bulk of our bathroom redo was done before Charlotte arrived last year, but we have been walking on a yucky, un-matching floor all this time. We picked out backerboard and ceramic tile a few months ago. Now that it's 90 degrees outside, it's the perfect time to finally hunker down and put down the tile, especially since there is no AC in the upstairs bathroom (there was no central air upstairs in the house when we bought it, so we bought very nice individual "Mr. Slim" units for each bedroom. They have great energy efficiency and are very comfortable, and they were almost entirely non-invasive on our old house. But they were quite pricey for each unit, and it wasn' t worth putting just in the bathroom. So we have no air in there but a fan.)
So here we are trying to get the floor somehow level (Marce is working on that right as I write), and put the backerboard down. And then we can figure out the ideal time to lay the tile. That will mean a day to dry, a day to put in grout, etc., making the tub inaccessible for a few days, and the toilet as well (since we are going to put a new one in finally). Not sure how we'll swing that. We do have a full bathroom downstairs, but the clawfoot is just a tub and not a shower. And as it is, Marissa hates having to go downstairs to use the toilet when the upstairs one is ocupado. She'll stand there and fuss for a few minutes when she could have just gone down the stairs in that time.
So we're not luxuriating in summer relaxation. I'm playing host to a house full of children freshly out of school, and cleaning like CRAZY and all the usual stuff. But the house is looking pretty good. It's not nearly as cluttered, although I think it will still have to be photographed very strategically in each room to make it look really stylish for any real-estate listings.
I'm just pleased that at least I've hauled out a lot more lately than I've hauled in. It's a start in fighting the uphill battle that is the encroachment of entropy.
Well, I can probably say I've been un-nesting. I've already got four little chicks, and they've done a whole hecka lotta feathering themselves over the years. And we've lived in the same town for exactly 10 years now. Although we moved houses two years ago, it was only a distance of 1 mile away. And it was a mess because all we did was throw junk in the car over and over again and move junk to a different location. I did not clear out as much junk as I would had I truly been "moving."
Well, I'm trying to un-feather our big nest just in case we actually DO move. And this time it won't be a mile away -- it'll be 3000 miles or so. And you just don't move junk that kind of distance. At least, I don't care to.
(For those who read "In Limbo," I mentioned we're waiting to move. We're still waiting, but at least we have found out that someone has given notice, so there will be an opening at the hospital Marce wants to work at. It's just now more waiting to see what the official position will be and when he'll get out for an interview.)
I thought of myself as a bit of a packrat when I was young. But since I've been an adult, I have thought of myself as a "thrower." I have packed up enough boxes over the years that I can't bear to have to pack any more than is absolutely necessary. And I am a bit of a neat freak and probably a touch OCD in the sense that clutter around me just heightens the clutter that is often my mind. It makes me a little "itchy" psychologically.
So this past week, I've used the time Charlotte has been at her "preschool" for a few hours at a time to clean out stuff while she's not underfoot. I told the girls I was going to clean out their room and they would help me decide what to give away. Even though on Tuesday, I filled a huge bag full of paper products for recycling, and a small bag for trash, pulled everything off shelves and from under beds, organized, and vacuumed up a few litters' worth of dust bunnies, Marce couldn't tell a difference when he walked in Cami and Marissa's room. So on Thursday, I went in there and worked some more to find dolls and stuffed animals to give away. We ended up with two paper bags full of them, which we took across the street to a place that helps children who have been abused. I am quite sure Marce still couldn't see a difference in their room, because the stuff primarily came from boxes under their bunk bed. I also organized their book shelf. Of course, I didn't give away a single book.
Even though my dear husband didn't see a difference in the girls' room, he did see a major difference in the kitchen. I spent a couple more hours on Tuesday in there. I threw away junk and cleaned and organized. A couple of trash bags went out to the garbage bin. And we could see our countertops! I went to the store and brought home a big watermelon and two cantaloupes and laid them on the counter, with plenty of room to spare.
I cleaned out the bathrooms a bit. While I've done this in the fairly recent past, this time was primarily for the purpose of getting all the blankets and towels off the large wire shelf so we could put tile on the floor. The bulk of our bathroom redo was done before Charlotte arrived last year, but we have been walking on a yucky, un-matching floor all this time. We picked out backerboard and ceramic tile a few months ago. Now that it's 90 degrees outside, it's the perfect time to finally hunker down and put down the tile, especially since there is no AC in the upstairs bathroom (there was no central air upstairs in the house when we bought it, so we bought very nice individual "Mr. Slim" units for each bedroom. They have great energy efficiency and are very comfortable, and they were almost entirely non-invasive on our old house. But they were quite pricey for each unit, and it wasn' t worth putting just in the bathroom. So we have no air in there but a fan.)
So here we are trying to get the floor somehow level (Marce is working on that right as I write), and put the backerboard down. And then we can figure out the ideal time to lay the tile. That will mean a day to dry, a day to put in grout, etc., making the tub inaccessible for a few days, and the toilet as well (since we are going to put a new one in finally). Not sure how we'll swing that. We do have a full bathroom downstairs, but the clawfoot is just a tub and not a shower. And as it is, Marissa hates having to go downstairs to use the toilet when the upstairs one is ocupado. She'll stand there and fuss for a few minutes when she could have just gone down the stairs in that time.
So we're not luxuriating in summer relaxation. I'm playing host to a house full of children freshly out of school, and cleaning like CRAZY and all the usual stuff. But the house is looking pretty good. It's not nearly as cluttered, although I think it will still have to be photographed very strategically in each room to make it look really stylish for any real-estate listings.
I'm just pleased that at least I've hauled out a lot more lately than I've hauled in. It's a start in fighting the uphill battle that is the encroachment of entropy.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
In Limbo
Well, we've been hoping to move to California. That's it in a nutshell. I got the idea back in January, while visiting SF, that it would be really great for the girls especially if we could move to Visalia, where Marce's brother and his wife and their six kids live. The girls could grow up now near their cousins, the schools would invariably be better than what we have here, and the church would be a little bigger. Right now, the Primary is pretty small, and there aren't a lot of kids at church for our girls to hang out with. I'd really love it if they had a few more options.
So, the hospital out there would love for Marce to come work for them. But we've been waiting for a position to open up. Isn't anyone there quitting??
Truth be told, I haven't been wanting anyone to quit too soon, anyway. We have a lot to do around here to prepare to move, and school has still been in, etc. So we feel pretty determined to move, but all we have right now are plans. And plans are SO subject to change. In the meantime, we're quite busy living life (as noted in my other posts) and going about our business. But we've got in the back of our heads (and often in the FRONTS) that we're going to be moving. We're trying to fix up what needs to be fixed up in the house; I'm trying to box up junk we don't use often or throw it away or give it away. Trying to get an idea of what finances will be like. All that kind of fun stuff.
Of course, if we stay, we still have to deal with the big issue of the schools. The public school system here in the city of Anniston is the pits. It may be slowly back on the rise, but it will be a very long, slow process. In the meantime, it's become untenable for us and for our girls. Brianna has been in a private Catholic school this past year, and it has been great for her. We thought the elementary school closest to us would be fine for Cami and Marissa, which it has been mostly, and mainly academically, but it has just not been good in terms of the other students. Everyone who could has left the system, either moving away to other areas or paying for private school. So everyone who's left has no money or doesn't care. (I'm talking families, now, of course.) So what we feel remains is a lot of kids from families who largely don't seem to care about the kids and their lives and their discipline. It makes for a pretty crazy environment for our girls. The principal over at the school spends quite a bit of her time paddling kids who are acting up. I could go on and on. But as much as I've wanted to help the school and the whole system, and to keep my kids in it to try to help, I'm way beyond my depth at this point. It's sad and frustrating. I want to be part of the solution, but at the same time, I simply can't sacrifice my children on that altar. They seem to have been acting up more and I just feel it has a lot to do with the kids who surround them every day.
SO. Either we move, to California, or to outlying areas of town, or we send them all to the private school. If we don't move this year, that's what I will do. But even that isn't a permanent solution. The private school won't have the resources or the mandate to provide Marissa with the extra help she needs. That's the big issue.
In the meantime, we stay busy, we clean, we throw away, we fix up, we live our lives. And we have faith that it will work out the way it should. And it will. Just not exactly sure what to prepare for. And that's kind of the hardest part of being in Limbo.
So, the hospital out there would love for Marce to come work for them. But we've been waiting for a position to open up. Isn't anyone there quitting??
Truth be told, I haven't been wanting anyone to quit too soon, anyway. We have a lot to do around here to prepare to move, and school has still been in, etc. So we feel pretty determined to move, but all we have right now are plans. And plans are SO subject to change. In the meantime, we're quite busy living life (as noted in my other posts) and going about our business. But we've got in the back of our heads (and often in the FRONTS) that we're going to be moving. We're trying to fix up what needs to be fixed up in the house; I'm trying to box up junk we don't use often or throw it away or give it away. Trying to get an idea of what finances will be like. All that kind of fun stuff.
Of course, if we stay, we still have to deal with the big issue of the schools. The public school system here in the city of Anniston is the pits. It may be slowly back on the rise, but it will be a very long, slow process. In the meantime, it's become untenable for us and for our girls. Brianna has been in a private Catholic school this past year, and it has been great for her. We thought the elementary school closest to us would be fine for Cami and Marissa, which it has been mostly, and mainly academically, but it has just not been good in terms of the other students. Everyone who could has left the system, either moving away to other areas or paying for private school. So everyone who's left has no money or doesn't care. (I'm talking families, now, of course.) So what we feel remains is a lot of kids from families who largely don't seem to care about the kids and their lives and their discipline. It makes for a pretty crazy environment for our girls. The principal over at the school spends quite a bit of her time paddling kids who are acting up. I could go on and on. But as much as I've wanted to help the school and the whole system, and to keep my kids in it to try to help, I'm way beyond my depth at this point. It's sad and frustrating. I want to be part of the solution, but at the same time, I simply can't sacrifice my children on that altar. They seem to have been acting up more and I just feel it has a lot to do with the kids who surround them every day.
SO. Either we move, to California, or to outlying areas of town, or we send them all to the private school. If we don't move this year, that's what I will do. But even that isn't a permanent solution. The private school won't have the resources or the mandate to provide Marissa with the extra help she needs. That's the big issue.
In the meantime, we stay busy, we clean, we throw away, we fix up, we live our lives. And we have faith that it will work out the way it should. And it will. Just not exactly sure what to prepare for. And that's kind of the hardest part of being in Limbo.
Birthdays galore
May is a very busy month at our house. It contains a plethora of birthdays: mine on the 14th, Brianna's on the 16th, and Cami's on the 31st. It also contains Mother's Day, which is very close to my birthday, if not actually the same day some years. Charlotte was due to be born on May 12th but graciously arrived on April 30, so she's not actually a May birthday as well. So while she gets to say she was born in April and have a diamond birthstone (I would prefer that neutral "color" to the green of the emerald that is MY birthstone, but hey, what can I do about that? I was due to be born in April and I chose to stay inside my cocoon for way longer), she still kind of piggybacks on the May train. She is now the start of birthday season for the Lims.
So Charlotte turned 1. Brianna has turned 12. Cami's about to turn 6. I'm astonished at how big they are. Charlotte is a solid 24 pounds, and getting heavy for any of us to carry around. Brianna, to contrast, was just over 15 pounds at a year old. She walked right at a year. Charlotte still hasn't gotten that far. I'm thinking she has a lot more to lug around. But she does crawl with amazing speed and agility. I put her down on the floor of Circuit City the other day so I could pick something else up, and she was GONE in a split second. I had to run around a couple of different aisles till I found her! It's like she just teleported. (Note to self: will find a cart there next time, no matter what.)
Brianna is 12 now, and officially a young woman. She really is, at least in our church lingo. Kids from age 18 months to 3 get to go to Nursery at church on Sundays; kids from 3 to 11 go to Primary for their lessons and singing time, etc.; and the girls go to Young Women at age 12, until they hit 18. This means she gets to go to classes now with teen girls instead of little kids. It means she gets to go to the yearly Girls' Camp, which here is being held in just a couple of weeks. And it means that she gets to go to do some work at the temple, which is really neat. I can't believe that she's 12 now. Brianna is still a very gracious, sensitive and kind, and delightful girl. She rarely makes me frustrated with her and she is very helpful around the house. She has a fun sense of humor and is just sweet and enjoyable to be around. I am so proud of her, if you hadn't guessed it yet!
Cami lost her first tooth, finally, just a couple of weeks ago, and was able to get a visit from the tooth fairy. The other tooth was fully grown in, and luckily it moved right into place pretty quickly. Now her other tooth next to it is doing the same thing: growing in, tooth in front barely loose. That means Marce will harp on her every day to WIGGLE IT, ALREADY! Or I'LL YANK IT OUT MYSELF! A fun bit of entertainment.
For Charlotte's birthday, we had a little party and invited a few people (would have loved to invite more, but I was trying to keep it under some control) to witness the cake-eating, etc. Charlotte turned out to LOVE the cake. She hesitantly took a bite, reaching out with her hand to pluck off a bit of frosting from the top, and then looked very pleased at the result. She took a few more little nibbles, and then her hands started moving much faster. Grab cake, stuff in mouth, other hand follow. It was a great show. I believe it was the most entertaining of any of the girls' cake-eating experiences to date. Pictures are on my Smugmug site.
Brianna will have her party on Friday night. Details to follow if I survive.
My birthday, you ask? I took a day off. I drove to Atlanta and spent the night the night before my big day and then spent Wednesday shopping for clothes. I hung out with a friend and talked like crazy late into the night and watched a movie on her big-screen TV. It was a very nice day for me. I got to eat a nice, healthy lunch at a very pleasant restaurant, and that night I came home to have a TCBY ice cream pie. And then ... I went to a meeting at church. But hey, all in all it was very nice. It was most enjoyable after the previous week of hospital "fun."
So Charlotte turned 1. Brianna has turned 12. Cami's about to turn 6. I'm astonished at how big they are. Charlotte is a solid 24 pounds, and getting heavy for any of us to carry around. Brianna, to contrast, was just over 15 pounds at a year old. She walked right at a year. Charlotte still hasn't gotten that far. I'm thinking she has a lot more to lug around. But she does crawl with amazing speed and agility. I put her down on the floor of Circuit City the other day so I could pick something else up, and she was GONE in a split second. I had to run around a couple of different aisles till I found her! It's like she just teleported. (Note to self: will find a cart there next time, no matter what.)
Brianna is 12 now, and officially a young woman. She really is, at least in our church lingo. Kids from age 18 months to 3 get to go to Nursery at church on Sundays; kids from 3 to 11 go to Primary for their lessons and singing time, etc.; and the girls go to Young Women at age 12, until they hit 18. This means she gets to go to classes now with teen girls instead of little kids. It means she gets to go to the yearly Girls' Camp, which here is being held in just a couple of weeks. And it means that she gets to go to do some work at the temple, which is really neat. I can't believe that she's 12 now. Brianna is still a very gracious, sensitive and kind, and delightful girl. She rarely makes me frustrated with her and she is very helpful around the house. She has a fun sense of humor and is just sweet and enjoyable to be around. I am so proud of her, if you hadn't guessed it yet!
Cami lost her first tooth, finally, just a couple of weeks ago, and was able to get a visit from the tooth fairy. The other tooth was fully grown in, and luckily it moved right into place pretty quickly. Now her other tooth next to it is doing the same thing: growing in, tooth in front barely loose. That means Marce will harp on her every day to WIGGLE IT, ALREADY! Or I'LL YANK IT OUT MYSELF! A fun bit of entertainment.
For Charlotte's birthday, we had a little party and invited a few people (would have loved to invite more, but I was trying to keep it under some control) to witness the cake-eating, etc. Charlotte turned out to LOVE the cake. She hesitantly took a bite, reaching out with her hand to pluck off a bit of frosting from the top, and then looked very pleased at the result. She took a few more little nibbles, and then her hands started moving much faster. Grab cake, stuff in mouth, other hand follow. It was a great show. I believe it was the most entertaining of any of the girls' cake-eating experiences to date. Pictures are on my Smugmug site.
Brianna will have her party on Friday night. Details to follow if I survive.
My birthday, you ask? I took a day off. I drove to Atlanta and spent the night the night before my big day and then spent Wednesday shopping for clothes. I hung out with a friend and talked like crazy late into the night and watched a movie on her big-screen TV. It was a very nice day for me. I got to eat a nice, healthy lunch at a very pleasant restaurant, and that night I came home to have a TCBY ice cream pie. And then ... I went to a meeting at church. But hey, all in all it was very nice. It was most enjoyable after the previous week of hospital "fun."
An onslaught of posts
OK, here's what I'm gonna do. I planned to write numerous posts this month on numerous useful and pertinent, even poignant, topics. Now here it is May 20, and I've had friends/family wondering where the posts are. So rather than write one HUGE post, I'm going to introduce the topics by first explaining why in the world I didn't write earlier. I really, really did want to post earlier. But I got sidetracked.
One main sidetracking: Charlotte. She got some kind of infection and was hospitalized. Yeah, in the hospital. With four children and their illnesses and accidents under our belts, so to say, we have not yet had a child admitted to the hospital. Sure, we've visited the ER a few times (mainly for Marissa and whatever little hijinks she managed to pull, like chewing a whole bottle of Cami's Singulair medication or getting her thumb squished in a door by a very active little boy), but haven't had to STAY in the hospital for more than a few hours. Charlotte's a first in many ways now (possibly see another related entry). She spiked a fever, not a really high one, but a fever. Then she had a dr checkup, and he was afraid that her eye looked like it had cellulitis. He had blood work done. Came back, and her white blood cell count was 28,000. A tad high. So he tossed it around. He sent me to another pediatrician who works with Stringfellow (Marce's hospital... our pediatrician doesn't sent kids there but to the other local hospital) so we could get the visit covered without paying an exorbitant sum out of pocket. That dr decided to admit her. That was Monday the 5th. I spent 5 hours in the doctors' offices that day before we even went to the hospital.
SO, I let Marce take Charlotte into the hospital to get her admitted at 6 p.m., and I ran home to pack up our stuff. I was hoping that he would be present for the insertion of the IV. I had already witnessed her stuck about four times that day, and it was not a pretty sight. She started to scream just when a medical person approached her. So I got to come home, field phone calls, do stuff, feed the children, etc., before I ran back to the hospital for what would surely be a "way fun" time. Needless to say, I was a bit perturbed when I arrived two hours later and found Marce lounging on the hospital bed with Charlotte cuddled next to him, watching ESPN. No IV, nothing. In two hours, NOTHING HAD HAPPENED.
I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. Medical stuff does not happen quickly unless gallons of blood are spurting out of a detached limb. But I did allow my hopes to rise only to be dashed. It wasn't the first time hopes would be dashed in the following days.
The nurses finally got the IV in Charlotte around 10 p.m., after four tries in different spots. Then we were able to settle in and sleep. She was exhausted from the whole ordeal and I was ready to get some sleep myself. And it was a decent night.
Tuesday was fine; Charlotte was a bit tired and listless but was managing. The listlessness part worked for me. I could rest a bit, read, etc. I got a couple of hours away when Marce relieved me for a bit later in the day. I spent another night there. It wasn't as fun. The IV pump beeped off and on for half the night and I didn't sleep so soundly.
On Wednesday morning I was really thinking we'd get to go. But the dr came by and said that while he was happy that the IV antibiotics had already helped her blood cell count to go down to 13,000 the day before, he was wanting to make sure her fever had been gone for a while before he sent us home. (Pop! Sounds of bursting bubbles.)
So I had to endure another day. Friends came by and helped out a bit, relieved me for a little while, talked, brought chocolate milkshakes... After my near-breakdown of not being able to handle the strain of the experience (by this point, Charlotte was feeling pretty good and was wanting to be mobile but couldn't be because of the IV in her foot. Not fun.) anymore, Marce volunteered to stay the night that night. So I got to sleep at home in my comfy bed. Thursday, I resumed my post in the hospital, expecting the dr to let us go anytime. I was not at all pleased when by 7 p.m. he still hadn't shown up. The nurse made phone calls to his beeper, cell phone, etc. which he didn't answer. Then the other pediatrician on call graciously let us go, before I caused any damage....
I got home and changed into workout clothes and enjoyed a 90-minute workout, during which I did my usual elliptical workout and then ran on the treadmill, increasing the speed up to 7.5 mph before I started feeling a real burn that could allow me to release all my pent-up frustrations. It felt great.
Charlotte is doing just fine. Still has a bit of a cold and some ear infection, but the big infection part is gone. She is her usual funny, get-into-stuff girl.
And I hope that we don't have to enter a hospital again for a very, very long time.
One main sidetracking: Charlotte. She got some kind of infection and was hospitalized. Yeah, in the hospital. With four children and their illnesses and accidents under our belts, so to say, we have not yet had a child admitted to the hospital. Sure, we've visited the ER a few times (mainly for Marissa and whatever little hijinks she managed to pull, like chewing a whole bottle of Cami's Singulair medication or getting her thumb squished in a door by a very active little boy), but haven't had to STAY in the hospital for more than a few hours. Charlotte's a first in many ways now (possibly see another related entry). She spiked a fever, not a really high one, but a fever. Then she had a dr checkup, and he was afraid that her eye looked like it had cellulitis. He had blood work done. Came back, and her white blood cell count was 28,000. A tad high. So he tossed it around. He sent me to another pediatrician who works with Stringfellow (Marce's hospital... our pediatrician doesn't sent kids there but to the other local hospital) so we could get the visit covered without paying an exorbitant sum out of pocket. That dr decided to admit her. That was Monday the 5th. I spent 5 hours in the doctors' offices that day before we even went to the hospital.
SO, I let Marce take Charlotte into the hospital to get her admitted at 6 p.m., and I ran home to pack up our stuff. I was hoping that he would be present for the insertion of the IV. I had already witnessed her stuck about four times that day, and it was not a pretty sight. She started to scream just when a medical person approached her. So I got to come home, field phone calls, do stuff, feed the children, etc., before I ran back to the hospital for what would surely be a "way fun" time. Needless to say, I was a bit perturbed when I arrived two hours later and found Marce lounging on the hospital bed with Charlotte cuddled next to him, watching ESPN. No IV, nothing. In two hours, NOTHING HAD HAPPENED.
I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. Medical stuff does not happen quickly unless gallons of blood are spurting out of a detached limb. But I did allow my hopes to rise only to be dashed. It wasn't the first time hopes would be dashed in the following days.
The nurses finally got the IV in Charlotte around 10 p.m., after four tries in different spots. Then we were able to settle in and sleep. She was exhausted from the whole ordeal and I was ready to get some sleep myself. And it was a decent night.
Tuesday was fine; Charlotte was a bit tired and listless but was managing. The listlessness part worked for me. I could rest a bit, read, etc. I got a couple of hours away when Marce relieved me for a bit later in the day. I spent another night there. It wasn't as fun. The IV pump beeped off and on for half the night and I didn't sleep so soundly.
On Wednesday morning I was really thinking we'd get to go. But the dr came by and said that while he was happy that the IV antibiotics had already helped her blood cell count to go down to 13,000 the day before, he was wanting to make sure her fever had been gone for a while before he sent us home. (Pop! Sounds of bursting bubbles.)
So I had to endure another day. Friends came by and helped out a bit, relieved me for a little while, talked, brought chocolate milkshakes... After my near-breakdown of not being able to handle the strain of the experience (by this point, Charlotte was feeling pretty good and was wanting to be mobile but couldn't be because of the IV in her foot. Not fun.) anymore, Marce volunteered to stay the night that night. So I got to sleep at home in my comfy bed. Thursday, I resumed my post in the hospital, expecting the dr to let us go anytime. I was not at all pleased when by 7 p.m. he still hadn't shown up. The nurse made phone calls to his beeper, cell phone, etc. which he didn't answer. Then the other pediatrician on call graciously let us go, before I caused any damage....
I got home and changed into workout clothes and enjoyed a 90-minute workout, during which I did my usual elliptical workout and then ran on the treadmill, increasing the speed up to 7.5 mph before I started feeling a real burn that could allow me to release all my pent-up frustrations. It felt great.
Charlotte is doing just fine. Still has a bit of a cold and some ear infection, but the big infection part is gone. She is her usual funny, get-into-stuff girl.
And I hope that we don't have to enter a hospital again for a very, very long time.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Pearly whites and the 3 dwarfs
Note: Just in case you were wondering, my April 1 post yielded no success. Life went on as usual. Surprise. But it is healthy to cultivate and keep a good imagination.
My children have kept the dentist and the tooth fairy busy lately. I'm not the only one they keep on her toes, at least. Marissa had to have two teeth pulled a few weeks ago -- again -- because not a single one of her teeth has gotten loose or come out on its own. SO glad to keep our peds dentist fed and clothed. Brianna even had to have one tooth pulled because teeth were growing in behind two other teeth. One was pulled because it wasn't loose at all, and the second tooth was loose, so it was spared the humiliation of being unceremoniously yanked. It fell out this week while she was eating. That meant that she was instantly finished with dinner because it became uncomfortable to eat.
Cami, not to be outdone, is growing in a new tooth, its baby counterpart at least a little loose. It didn't start off very loose, but after the other girls' dentist visits (can you say $80 per tooth?), we insisted on getting some movement going on our own. We did a little not-so-gentle wiggling and then reminded her to put hand to mouth to nudge it herself. It's still in there, but it should come out eventually. This will be her first lost tooth, which will earn her her first tooth fairy visit. Brianna, at almost 12, isn't majorly eager to have the fairy drop by of an evening. She's rather attached to her teeth, so for the past few that have come out, she has chosen to keep them as souvenirs rather than lose her mementos to the tooth fairy in exchange for the pittance of 50 cents or something (she's got a nice savings account going and four bits wouldn't make a big change in the ledger). I don't know where she's keeping them. She was going to give up this week's tooth just because it still had some food embedded in its ridges, but she ended up keeping it, apparently. I saw her in the bathroom sticking it with a toothpick to clean it out.
Charlotte hasn't been left out in the cold. She has also sprouted a new tooth, the same tooth that Cami is just now trying to get rid of. So no visits from the tooth fairy for her yet; simply lengthy stays by the drool and booger witches.
Meanwhile, I'm staying busy playing Cinderella. I've been cooking, cleaning and doing dishes like crazy, and keeping the dirty laundry at bay. I've felt like I've been living in the kitchen. But my family has eaten well lately. Today was just a day for leftovers. That's it.
I've also been living with the incarnation of three dwarfs: Sneezy, Sleepy and Grumpy. This three-headed creature (a truncated Hydra, perhaps?) is otherwise known as Marce, my husband. It's April and springtime, at last, here in the South. Spring is by far my favorite season. You can picture me in a pretty little floral dress, tiptoeing through the tulips, frolicking in slow motion in a breezy wonderland of flowers and trees. I'm happy and light-hearted, singing and tra-la-la-ing. The coating of yellow dust that settles onto everything around me doesn't bother me at all. I merrily skip as I sing and breathe in the heady scents of flowers and grass that is being mown in neighbors' yards. Oh, it is almost heaven!
Cut to Marce. He is beset by his yearly nemesis, ALLERGY season. He would otherwise enjoy spring, sure. But thanks to his body's reaction to the allergens in the air, he is miserable. His eyes are itchy and watery and red; they are puffy around the upper and lower lids. He is sniffling and sneezing and generally looking like death warmed over. He is truly misery incarnate for a solid month. Grumpy is not my favorite hubby. I notice Marce morphing into Grumpy at the start of allergy season and start asking him, "What's got you in such a bad mood?" I ask this every year several times (you'd think I'd learn after 15 years!) until it hits me that I'm dealing with Allergy-ridden Evil Twin Marce. I am trying to be patient and kind with him, knowing how bad it is to be miserable, but I am probably not doing so well. I also am thinking, you know, I should be sympathetic -- it's only fair since I am PMS Evil Twin Cathy once a month for maybe a week. His 1/12-th of a year is actually less than my 1/4-th of a month. But I suppose I'm less charitable than he. So while he is Grumpy right now, I do have to remind myself that he is much more often Long-Suffering Man, the kind, forgiving guy who I am always thanking heaven that I have in my life.
Now if we could just get Doc to move in for a while to take care of the dental and ENT issues, I think I'd be free to go outside as Happy and do some slo-mo frolicking.
My children have kept the dentist and the tooth fairy busy lately. I'm not the only one they keep on her toes, at least. Marissa had to have two teeth pulled a few weeks ago -- again -- because not a single one of her teeth has gotten loose or come out on its own. SO glad to keep our peds dentist fed and clothed. Brianna even had to have one tooth pulled because teeth were growing in behind two other teeth. One was pulled because it wasn't loose at all, and the second tooth was loose, so it was spared the humiliation of being unceremoniously yanked. It fell out this week while she was eating. That meant that she was instantly finished with dinner because it became uncomfortable to eat.
Cami, not to be outdone, is growing in a new tooth, its baby counterpart at least a little loose. It didn't start off very loose, but after the other girls' dentist visits (can you say $80 per tooth?), we insisted on getting some movement going on our own. We did a little not-so-gentle wiggling and then reminded her to put hand to mouth to nudge it herself. It's still in there, but it should come out eventually. This will be her first lost tooth, which will earn her her first tooth fairy visit. Brianna, at almost 12, isn't majorly eager to have the fairy drop by of an evening. She's rather attached to her teeth, so for the past few that have come out, she has chosen to keep them as souvenirs rather than lose her mementos to the tooth fairy in exchange for the pittance of 50 cents or something (she's got a nice savings account going and four bits wouldn't make a big change in the ledger). I don't know where she's keeping them. She was going to give up this week's tooth just because it still had some food embedded in its ridges, but she ended up keeping it, apparently. I saw her in the bathroom sticking it with a toothpick to clean it out.
Charlotte hasn't been left out in the cold. She has also sprouted a new tooth, the same tooth that Cami is just now trying to get rid of. So no visits from the tooth fairy for her yet; simply lengthy stays by the drool and booger witches.
Meanwhile, I'm staying busy playing Cinderella. I've been cooking, cleaning and doing dishes like crazy, and keeping the dirty laundry at bay. I've felt like I've been living in the kitchen. But my family has eaten well lately. Today was just a day for leftovers. That's it.
I've also been living with the incarnation of three dwarfs: Sneezy, Sleepy and Grumpy. This three-headed creature (a truncated Hydra, perhaps?) is otherwise known as Marce, my husband. It's April and springtime, at last, here in the South. Spring is by far my favorite season. You can picture me in a pretty little floral dress, tiptoeing through the tulips, frolicking in slow motion in a breezy wonderland of flowers and trees. I'm happy and light-hearted, singing and tra-la-la-ing. The coating of yellow dust that settles onto everything around me doesn't bother me at all. I merrily skip as I sing and breathe in the heady scents of flowers and grass that is being mown in neighbors' yards. Oh, it is almost heaven!
Cut to Marce. He is beset by his yearly nemesis, ALLERGY season. He would otherwise enjoy spring, sure. But thanks to his body's reaction to the allergens in the air, he is miserable. His eyes are itchy and watery and red; they are puffy around the upper and lower lids. He is sniffling and sneezing and generally looking like death warmed over. He is truly misery incarnate for a solid month. Grumpy is not my favorite hubby. I notice Marce morphing into Grumpy at the start of allergy season and start asking him, "What's got you in such a bad mood?" I ask this every year several times (you'd think I'd learn after 15 years!) until it hits me that I'm dealing with Allergy-ridden Evil Twin Marce. I am trying to be patient and kind with him, knowing how bad it is to be miserable, but I am probably not doing so well. I also am thinking, you know, I should be sympathetic -- it's only fair since I am PMS Evil Twin Cathy once a month for maybe a week. His 1/12-th of a year is actually less than my 1/4-th of a month. But I suppose I'm less charitable than he. So while he is Grumpy right now, I do have to remind myself that he is much more often Long-Suffering Man, the kind, forgiving guy who I am always thanking heaven that I have in my life.
Now if we could just get Doc to move in for a while to take care of the dental and ENT issues, I think I'd be free to go outside as Happy and do some slo-mo frolicking.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Fools' Day
I've never been much of a practical joker. I hate being on the receiving end, so I'd never dream of being on the giving end of a nasty joke. I have a hard time even with really minor pranks. No imagination for them, apparently. So I have nothing to share today that would be at all jokey.
I can, however, dream. ...
My day is perfect. My children are all absolutely, completely obedient and helpful. They play happily together, providing background noise of gentle, cute giggles. My baby isn't clingy -- instead, she watches her older sisters play and participates in what she can without making them say, "Mah-uhm! Charlotte's messing up our stuff!!"
I go to the gym for my daily workout and find that, unwittingly, I've lost 10 pounds overnight. I can fit into some nice pants that have previously been too tight. I look in the mirror and find my skin is absolutely clear and beautiful, no zits in sight.
I sit down at the computer and find that the text for my next great American novel is springing to mind completely formed, and lining itself up on my monitor with almost no effort from my fingers. Writer's block is gone, ideas are ingenious, poignant, at times gently humorous.
I don't have to worry about what to cook because a top chef is coming today to make a scrumptious meal everyone will love that is healthy and low in calories.
After dinner, my husband and I are able to jet out of town for a few days to Europe, for a quick, romantic getaway. The Concorde is still flying, so we can arrive in just a couple of hours without any jetlag. Our energy is high, and fireworks light up the night sky just for us.
... apparently I still have a little imagination left. Here's to life, love, and foolish dreams!
I can, however, dream. ...
My day is perfect. My children are all absolutely, completely obedient and helpful. They play happily together, providing background noise of gentle, cute giggles. My baby isn't clingy -- instead, she watches her older sisters play and participates in what she can without making them say, "Mah-uhm! Charlotte's messing up our stuff!!"
I go to the gym for my daily workout and find that, unwittingly, I've lost 10 pounds overnight. I can fit into some nice pants that have previously been too tight. I look in the mirror and find my skin is absolutely clear and beautiful, no zits in sight.
I sit down at the computer and find that the text for my next great American novel is springing to mind completely formed, and lining itself up on my monitor with almost no effort from my fingers. Writer's block is gone, ideas are ingenious, poignant, at times gently humorous.
I don't have to worry about what to cook because a top chef is coming today to make a scrumptious meal everyone will love that is healthy and low in calories.
After dinner, my husband and I are able to jet out of town for a few days to Europe, for a quick, romantic getaway. The Concorde is still flying, so we can arrive in just a couple of hours without any jetlag. Our energy is high, and fireworks light up the night sky just for us.
... apparently I still have a little imagination left. Here's to life, love, and foolish dreams!
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Itty-bitty traveling space
Our family has never shied away from long road trips. So this month, we packed the van practically as full of people as it is capable of holding and traipsed on down to Texas. Marce, the girls, my dad and I all drove 11 hours or so from here to Houston. That's not including stops, mind you. I don't mind the usual 6-hour jaunts, but 11 hours is kind of rough. I try to avoid those types of long hauls on a regular basis, but sometimes they're important.
Such as this time around, when my niece got married. We couldn't miss this important event, especially since it was -- technically -- within driving distance. The girls have had several opportunities to meet Kim and play with her (she has a huge box of crayons and coloring books, to boot), so I knew they would appreciate seeing her in her beautiful wedding dress.
It was actually not so bad a trip, considering everything. Including the fact that Marissa got sick the day or two before we left, and I feared all of us catching it and being a car full of sick folks. Luckily, she wasn't vomiting sick, except for one occasion before the trip, and none of the rest of us got that way. I caught it, which seemed to have been a fairly minor version of the flu. So Marissa was somewhat short of her usual energy level, and I was far below mine. Lethargic certainly described us well. Luckily, Marce could drive and Dad could drive. I was almost useless. But the girls all did fairly well. Charlotte got to being not too happy to be put back in her car seat, but she survived.
The wedding was beautiful, and it was such a pleasure to be with family for such a happy occasion. It was also a wonderful opportunity to reinforce the value of the temple for our daughters, who a mere 3 weeks before were able to be in the Birmingham temple with us as Charlotte was sealed to our family for eternity. This time, they got to stand outside the Houston temple of our church to witness the bride and groom emerging from the ceremony we were able to witness inside. It was beautiful.
Since then, I've been busy uploading photos and posting them on the SmugMug site and getting prints made of a variety of pictures from the past 6 months so I can update Charlotte's baby book. Nice to be getting a handle on that again. She's changed so much. I can't believe she was so tiny 9 months ago, and here she is in the 75th percentile for height and weight and crawling all over, pulling books off the bottom shelves, yanking CDs out of their little tower. I walk around and find all kinds of detritus strewn about the floor. Ah. Fun having a crawler around. She also has discovered saying "uh-oh." It's absolutely ADORABLE.
I've been so busy with all the odds and ends around the house as well as starting and updating my books website, Rated Reads. If you haven't seen it, check it out and pass along the word to friends. I think it is a great resource and I plan on it just getting better and better and having more tools for discussion and so on. I'm really pleased with it.
So far, the year is going very well. So many neat things to enjoy.
Such as this time around, when my niece got married. We couldn't miss this important event, especially since it was -- technically -- within driving distance. The girls have had several opportunities to meet Kim and play with her (she has a huge box of crayons and coloring books, to boot), so I knew they would appreciate seeing her in her beautiful wedding dress.
It was actually not so bad a trip, considering everything. Including the fact that Marissa got sick the day or two before we left, and I feared all of us catching it and being a car full of sick folks. Luckily, she wasn't vomiting sick, except for one occasion before the trip, and none of the rest of us got that way. I caught it, which seemed to have been a fairly minor version of the flu. So Marissa was somewhat short of her usual energy level, and I was far below mine. Lethargic certainly described us well. Luckily, Marce could drive and Dad could drive. I was almost useless. But the girls all did fairly well. Charlotte got to being not too happy to be put back in her car seat, but she survived.
The wedding was beautiful, and it was such a pleasure to be with family for such a happy occasion. It was also a wonderful opportunity to reinforce the value of the temple for our daughters, who a mere 3 weeks before were able to be in the Birmingham temple with us as Charlotte was sealed to our family for eternity. This time, they got to stand outside the Houston temple of our church to witness the bride and groom emerging from the ceremony we were able to witness inside. It was beautiful.
Since then, I've been busy uploading photos and posting them on the SmugMug site and getting prints made of a variety of pictures from the past 6 months so I can update Charlotte's baby book. Nice to be getting a handle on that again. She's changed so much. I can't believe she was so tiny 9 months ago, and here she is in the 75th percentile for height and weight and crawling all over, pulling books off the bottom shelves, yanking CDs out of their little tower. I walk around and find all kinds of detritus strewn about the floor. Ah. Fun having a crawler around. She also has discovered saying "uh-oh." It's absolutely ADORABLE.
I've been so busy with all the odds and ends around the house as well as starting and updating my books website, Rated Reads. If you haven't seen it, check it out and pass along the word to friends. I think it is a great resource and I plan on it just getting better and better and having more tools for discussion and so on. I'm really pleased with it.
So far, the year is going very well. So many neat things to enjoy.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Swimming right along
Here it is the end of January, almost, and I've got lots to report.
First, since Charlotte is now legally ours, as of Dec. 20, we were able to bless her in church and have her "sealed" to us in our church's temple in Birmingham. For those of you reading who might not be familiar with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we believe that families can be together forever, not "til death do you part." So we go to our temples to have marriages "sealed," as well as children "sealed" to us. Since we adopted Charlotte, we took her to the temple for this ordinance. It was a very special day for us, and it was beautiful for all our girls to be inside the temple with us to share in it too. Now we're all in it together -- permanently! We are very happy about that. I put pictures of it on www.limfamily.smugmug.com.
I also started up a new website, www.ratedreads.com. I have been planning it for some months now and finally got the time (well, basically) to do it. The basic idea is this: since I'm a) an avid reader, and b) a newspaper book page editor, lots of people ask me what books I can recommend. Many want books that don't have objectionable content. So I'm writing reviews on RatedReads about books that aren't objectionable. I'm completely avoiding books that have lots of language or sex. I am including a three-level ratings system for the books that I feel I can recommend based on content. So if you need some good new books to read, you can check out the site. It's just beginning, so it's not heavy on content yet but it should pick up weight as time progresses. You can email and give suggestions too. I hope you find it useful.
Charlotte has been doing great lately but today seems to have a gunky nose and is not too happy. So, that's the end of my brief post!
First, since Charlotte is now legally ours, as of Dec. 20, we were able to bless her in church and have her "sealed" to us in our church's temple in Birmingham. For those of you reading who might not be familiar with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we believe that families can be together forever, not "til death do you part." So we go to our temples to have marriages "sealed," as well as children "sealed" to us. Since we adopted Charlotte, we took her to the temple for this ordinance. It was a very special day for us, and it was beautiful for all our girls to be inside the temple with us to share in it too. Now we're all in it together -- permanently! We are very happy about that. I put pictures of it on www.limfamily.smugmug.com.
I also started up a new website, www.ratedreads.com. I have been planning it for some months now and finally got the time (well, basically) to do it. The basic idea is this: since I'm a) an avid reader, and b) a newspaper book page editor, lots of people ask me what books I can recommend. Many want books that don't have objectionable content. So I'm writing reviews on RatedReads about books that aren't objectionable. I'm completely avoiding books that have lots of language or sex. I am including a three-level ratings system for the books that I feel I can recommend based on content. So if you need some good new books to read, you can check out the site. It's just beginning, so it's not heavy on content yet but it should pick up weight as time progresses. You can email and give suggestions too. I hope you find it useful.
Charlotte has been doing great lately but today seems to have a gunky nose and is not too happy. So, that's the end of my brief post!
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and acknowledging 2008
I had no time to blog during the "holiday season." I've concluded that it's really not a time of leisure and enjoyment for any women. My husband has always just LOVED Christmas -- the whole Christmas season. But I, on the other hand, do NOT. And I DO know the reason. It's just that I have far too much to do and not enough time to do it in. Same old song there. When it comes to just regular Christmas shopping for gifts, that's almost a piece of cake. But then, speaking of goodies, it ends up being treats for those I visit teach, Marce home teaches, the teachers -- and bus drivers and aides and all the other associated staff -- at school, people at work, and so on. I have to make sure goodies are baked (that's the fun part, though!) and then boxed up in cute little packages, with notes on them all. Then there's the Christmas photo card and the (gulp) newsletter. I have a reputation to keep up, and it gets a little sweaty around here come time to write that thing. This year we finally got to it right around the time our adoption was finally finalized. That turned out to be a boon because, hey, we could just say we waited until then deliberately so we could include it in the newsletter. Biggest news of the year. Happiest. I can say goodbye, mostly, to the whole adoption mess. I have my baby now for good, and the messy part is mostly over. Debts from the exorbitant costs of the whole thing remain, and extra poundage -- a whole lot -- is sitting around my midsection and the rest of my body, clinging tightly despite my daily trips to the gym. SIGH. The only cool thing is it's forced me to buy lots of new clothes. That was fun, but not fun because I was having to spend more money for those, and then I've had to see myself in the mirror a lot more than I'd like, with all that extra flesh. SIGH again.
Quite honestly, now that it's January and it's really time for a new start, I'm grieving for all the huge, gigantuan stresses of the last year and all they did to me physically and emotionally. That's the short story. I hope to grieve and move on, and hopefully moving on will include leaving behind some of the poundage, somehow.
So I'm going to start on some projects I've been wanting to do for a while. First is my "clean books" website. It's called RatedReads.com and it's in progress, at last. I'm very pleased. I think it will be a great resource for lots of people. I hope we can get the word out. Then after I get that settled, I can start writing (crossing fingers...) my new YA novel. I've been mulling it for over a year. High time to write it.
My book page job is still wonderful. Love those books!! Charlotte is now going to go to a "mom's day out" program one day a week so I can actually get my work done now. That will be very helpful now that she's 8 months old and mobile and very talkative. I WAS carting her to work with me and it was great for a while when she slept or sat quietly. Now that's going to change.
She's growing very fast. She's huge. Really. Over 20 pounds. But adorable, still sweet.
Hope you all have a wonderful 2008. That's MY plan.
Quite honestly, now that it's January and it's really time for a new start, I'm grieving for all the huge, gigantuan stresses of the last year and all they did to me physically and emotionally. That's the short story. I hope to grieve and move on, and hopefully moving on will include leaving behind some of the poundage, somehow.
So I'm going to start on some projects I've been wanting to do for a while. First is my "clean books" website. It's called RatedReads.com and it's in progress, at last. I'm very pleased. I think it will be a great resource for lots of people. I hope we can get the word out. Then after I get that settled, I can start writing (crossing fingers...) my new YA novel. I've been mulling it for over a year. High time to write it.
My book page job is still wonderful. Love those books!! Charlotte is now going to go to a "mom's day out" program one day a week so I can actually get my work done now. That will be very helpful now that she's 8 months old and mobile and very talkative. I WAS carting her to work with me and it was great for a while when she slept or sat quietly. Now that's going to change.
She's growing very fast. She's huge. Really. Over 20 pounds. But adorable, still sweet.
Hope you all have a wonderful 2008. That's MY plan.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)