Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 30, 2011
You should too, before you continue.
I have been a blog slacker (btw, just renewed my domain therefore I resolve to be a better blogger than I have been the final quarter of 2011) and wasn't even sure I was going to write a new year's post this year. But, alas. Here we are.
So. 2011. Wow. We had no idea what you had in store for us and boy did you ever have plans. First, let's review the things I said I wanted to do (because I don't make resolutions, I think they're BS and can't keep one).
I said I wanted to do another half marathon. Fail. I did not do another half. However, I have taken a liking to jogging and plan to continue. I have no current desires to run 13.1 miles.
A long weekend with the husband was on the list. Well. We had plans to go to the Greenbrier and take a long wonderful weekend. But life got in the way and when we were supposed to go on the trip we were putting our house on the market. We did spend a night downtown without our kiddos. That kind of counts.
I requested eight solid of sleep. I think I get that on the regular now so that's checked off the list.
Write more. I did write more. A lot more this summer and fall. I had a lot to write about. We moved. To Florida. We lived in an apartment. With a dog. We bought a new house. We started a new life. Then I stopped writing when that new life got busy. Again. Will be better. Swears.
I did not figure out how to make a living blogging. However if I ever get a tax id (which is on my to do list... cause you need one when you have a small (teeny tiny business) I may get 10 bucks from adsense.
I wanted to become a better photographer. This one makes me smile. This one makes me proud. This one. I did this. And I am learning. Every day. And people are paying me. To take pictures. Get out of town. Pinching myself. Cause I kicked this one's ass.
I wanted to ring in my 30th in style. Thanks to my amazing better half. That happened. In a major way.
And we laughed. We celebrated. We loved hard.
We are wrapping up the year with a week with our toes in the sand. So lucky. So grateful. Not taking one second of it for granted.
So over crab cakes and champagne we will ring in a new year just the two of us (cause the other two will be in bed by then.) With new things in store. New adventures. New excitement. New. And from 2011 we will bring with us the knowledge that things happen for a reason. A peace of mind that what will be. Will be. And joy. We will bring the joy and laughter and never ending fun that Cannon and Emerson bring us every day.
And so to plagiarize myself from last year. Hope your plans are stellar. Hope the champagne is cold. Hope 2012 is magical.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
The Santa/ Elf on the Shelf threat has lost all power. The breakdowns are epic and it's like the kids understand that stress comes with the holidays.
Against my better judgement I went to both the grocery store and the mall Monday with both of my children. Here's the thing. Monday afternoon at the mall the Monday before Christmas is not quiet like I thought it would be. At all. And it never fails. We finally get to the store we need to go to and he says "Mommy! I need to poop!" Every. Single. Effing. Time.
Took the 3 year old to the dentist a few weeks ago. He was a rockstar. Just laid there and watched Bubble Guppies. He had a cavity. I lost my mom of the year award. Shockingly. It's not from the crap he eats. Cause it was on a front tooth. So now he flosses. More than I do. And no more milk before bed. Lesson learned.
How do you discpline a one year old? She pinches. When you are holding her she pinches your arm. When she is standing at your feet, she grabs your knee skin (don't lie, you have it too) or tries for some other skin. And when you say no, yell no, move away, tell her it's bad, she smiles. Laughs even.
I think I am finished Christmas shopping. Think. But this is the time where I get all 'I don't care, just buy it'. So staying away from the aforementioned mall is important.
I ordered too many Christmas cards. Way too many. Want one?
I don't know what to wear when it's December and it's 80. I feel weird putting on shorts and flip flops. I mean not weird enough to not do it. Just to be clear.
Speaking of what to wear. Man am I in a damn rut. I feel like I wear the same five things all the time. Hoping Santa sends some giftcards and some time to shop. All by myself.
In our old house it was hard for babies to open doors. They were knobs. Here they are handles. And she can open them. And she does. In particular the one to the bathroom. Oh and the lid is always up. Cause I have a boy. So that's fun.
Christmas cookies with their great grandmother and cousin this afternoon. So that's pretty rad.
Also, I plan on bringing 'rad' back. Also bringing 'sexy' back.
Hope you are merry. Hope things are bright. Hope you didn't miss me too much. To all a good night.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Also. Launched my new photography website this week. I'm in love with it. Maybe you will be too. Check it.
The halls are decked. There are parades and parties to attend. There's a week at the beach coming. It's good. Hope it's good on your end too.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Fireworks stands and Christmas tree lots are everywhere in Florida. At their respective times of year of course. So there's the huge lot at our local high school which benefits the boosters. So, while fighting off
Cannon was in love with walking among the trees, smelling the smell, helping Daddy pick the perfect one. Until. He spotted him. You know. The man of the season. He's on every corner, in every store, watching your every move.
Cue the bee line to Santa, who's back was to us because he was helping himself to some warm coffee (cause it was a frigid 78 degrees at 1pm). Cannon stopped about three feet behind Santa and said, 'Mommy, I just want to watch'. So he did. Then Santa turned around and this is what came out of his mouth, 'Hi Santa, My name is Cannon and I would like a scooter for Christmas please'. Of course it was slightly mumbled because everyone gets nervous when talking to the man with the list. But it was magic.
Santa had on Air Jordans. Was slightly thinner than a 'jolly old elf' and his costume left a lot to be desired. It didn't matter. In the eyes of a three year old, he was in the presence of greatness.
I know the real reason for the season and thanks to Christmas carols and a nondenomenational preschool, Cannon does too, ish. I mean he knows it's someones birthday. That's good for now.
But there's another part of the season. A part that lives in the eyes and hearts of children. A part that is pure magic. About this generous man who blesses you with gifts once a year. If you believe. And when you've seen a three year old who's gotten an email video from Santa (portablenorthpole.tv do it, trust me) or who runs into Santa and simply must go talk to him, you know it's there. There's magic in the air. And sure, we may get to play Santa to keep the magic alive but for me, that's the best part. That's the fun. Seeing your children's eyes light up and knowing that someday, they'll know. But for now, they believe. It's magic. Pure magic.
It's why we sleep in our house on Christmas eve. So that we can wake up in our house on Christmas morning. It's why we have a date night coming up to go get dinner, drink some wine, and then go spoil our kids. It's absolutely my favorite part.
The Best part. If you will.
Merry merry friends.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
I put Christmas lights on palm trees today. Yep. Looks awesome. Did you know those bitches have thorns? Me either. Do now.
I used to hold a record for getting my Christmas cards out first. Streak broken.
Also. There's a typo on the Christmas card. Can't blame any other asshole. It's my fault. Plan on eliminating anyone who points out said typo from next years Christmas card spreadsheet.
One year olds on full flights suck.
Something happened last week. I have been running (read: jogging. Slowly.). And I hated it. But I was doing it daily. Usually a couple miles. Then on Wednesday I went a couple miles and finished and felt amazing. Like I could keep going. Like I wasn't going to die. Wasn't panting. And I loved it. So with my better half by my side on thanksgiving we ran a 5k. And I ran on Friday. Took the weekend off cause we were out of town. Got home tonight. Ran again. For the first time ever I don't hate it. It's pretty cool.
Do not pack candles if you move to Florida. They will not be burnable at Christmas time.
The stockings are hung on the stairs with care. Because in Florida fireplaces are rare.
The baby's hair is in that weird stage where she always looks like a ragamuffin. And she still won't wear bows. But I am not cutting it. So. Ragamuffin it is.
Happy Christmas time y'all!
Thursday, November 17, 2011
I do believe we will spend two of the next three days at the beach. Cause we can. And who doesn't want to go to the frozen north sporting at least a slight tan?
I despise chain letters. In the last week I have gotten two. One for books. One for stickers. I told the book lady to shove it, in nicer terms. The stickers. That one came from a bestie. Who is a loyal reader. Who is lucky she is 1,000 miles away. Just too bad she has to see me face to face in a week.
Know what's awesome? Holding your 24 pound one year old in one arm and your 30 pound (weight differential doesn't seem quite right) three year old in the other arm so he can pee in a public potty that is too tall for him to stand and reach to pee. Also you are holding your wallet, and keys.
Jogging with a double jogger loaded with aforementioned 50+ pounds of
kids in the 85 degree Florida heat the week before thanksgiving should count as double mileage. At least.
Not writing much lately because my creative brain is dedicated to capturing moments for local families. And it's awesome. And so is word of mouth marketing.
A month or so ago this indentation showed up in my upper thigh. I was pretty sure it was a tumor or a blood clot or my twin growing in my leg. Figured out this week that the indentation is exactly where my bathroom counter hits my leg. Also where the pulls on my kitchen drawers hit my leg. Right now I am leaning against the drawers typing on the iPad. Glad I didn't go for a CT scan but kind of weirded out by the cause and effect here.
In one hour this week I filled four trash bags with toys for kids who aren't as lucky as mine. And one bag for the trash. And I took it to goodwill and was done with it. And there was no one around to stop me. Felt fantastic and I may just do it a few more times before Christmas.
Running a couple miles a day. Haven't lost a pound. Not eating bread or pasta. Or crap. Never really did. Still drinking. Feel better even if I haven't lost any weight.
Red Envelope has stepped up its game.
I have two children and have not gotten one toy catalog in the mail. To quote Julia Roberts.... Big mistake. Huge.
I will leave you with one final thought. Thanksgiving is less than a week away. And Justin Bieber looks like a girl.
Monday, November 7, 2011
For a half a second on Halloween I worried that our new neighbors would judge us trick or treating with cocktails. A half a second. Turns out if we didn't have a drink they would have judged.
It's freaking gorgeous here. Like high of 80 and low of 60. We are going to freeze in the northeast in a few weeks. Probably cause our kids don't have winter clothes.
We got 'elf on a shelf' out almost a week ago. His name is Elfie. Here's to a solid two months of behavior enrichment. Now if we can remember to hide him nightly... and remember where we hid him.
We are back on the eating healthy and working out train. The diet of peanuts and candy corn wasn't doing it for me. I still hate running but I hate it less in gorgeous weather. Dan is on the train too. This of course means he will lose 10 pounds by tomorrow eating tuna fish and cheese for every meal. I, on the other hand, will fight for every tenth of a pound.
We're back on the train mostly because we want to go into the holidays feeling fit. Cause we like to indulge if you didn't know that about us. There is a vacation coming where I want to eat key lime pie and drink cold beer on the beach. Also, Thanksgiving isn't exactly a healthy holiday. So. We will run. And lower our carb intake.
Hello Skinny Girl Margarita. I didn't say I was going to stop drinking.
So. I bought a domain this weekend. I guess that means now I own two. This one and bestpartphotography.com. I have no idea what to do with the domain but baby steps. I am having a blast taking pictures. A blast.
I swear this won't turn into a photography blog. I don't know nearly enough for that. I bow down to some of the photographers I have started stalking. I've been liking photographers facebook pages like crazy. Then I saw a picture that almost made me throw up. Picture this. Pregnant belly. Only the belly, no head or legs. Hair man arms wrapped around the belly forming the over used cliched heart with his hands. And super imposed in the heart is a 3d ultra sound picture of the baby. If that woman can get paid to take pictures, I can succeed too.
I don't think I have ever been wrong guessing the sex of a baby. Maybe once. But still. That's a good track record.
Tomorrow night I get to have dinner with one of my best friends. With no children. And real napkins and adult conversation. I am in love already.
The Best part? Fall in Florida. I am in love.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Something else that's awesome. It has opened up a whole other side of my brain that I have either never used or that I shelved in favor of writing stories about murderers and snowstorms and tax season. I am creative. It's fascinating to me the way I look at things now.
I am totally and completely intimidated by what I don't know and that's awesome. That means that I won't ever stop learning about it. And it means that I will always be humbled by the work of others and honored that people think I am good enough to take their pictures. It's totally rad. Totally rad.
Another awesome thing is when someone decides to pay it forward. Thanks to social networking I have this friend and photography mentor who is friends with a lot of my friends but who I have never met. And she's helpful And encouraging. And funny. And excited for me. And you should hire her if you live in Indy. And she picked me to pay it forward to. That's rad too.
The Best part? It's good. Really good.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
The sound of the dog cleaning himself makes me want to vomit. Same as when I find a sippy in the corner and then discover it contains milk.
We still have Kentucky license plates.
My baby girl weighs almost 4 pounds more than Cannon did when he turned one. What's up 90th percentile.
Halloween has been approaching forever. Been in the stores since July and it's still days away. So it's taking forever. But then once it's over Christmas will be here in like 2 days.
Speaking of that. The pictures of the ghost costume. Are gonna be amazing. Not to set myself up for failure...
Texas has more than two thousand airports. Go Cardinals.
I made cake balls. They are freaking amazing. They went to work with Dan this morning.
My flash is busted. Not good.
We fought a fever from 2 until 5 this morning. So that's awesome.
And I was just thinking (didn't say it out loud or even type it for fear of jinxing it) that we have not had any sicknesses since we moved down here.
The three year old didn't want to sit in the jogger this morning. So he ran with me. Yep. Still not napping. Didn't run fast enough apparently.
The Best part? I forced myself to jog even though I slept like three hours last night. Then I came home and ate a chicken breast. And three handfulls of peanuts and candy corn. Fail.
Friday, October 21, 2011
I can not believe that a year ago today we welcomed Emerson Elizabeth (if you're just joining us, here's a link to October of 2010) into our world. I'm not going to tell you how long or miserable labor was or how many stitches I required. Cause it doesn't matter. She was worth every single second.
This has been without question the fastest year of my life. And the best. My children adore eachother (most of the time), they are healthy, and our little girl is one today.
She is funny. Sweet. Cuddly. And she is that baby who smiles at everyone. Brings joy to anyone. If you're lucky enough to have a baby like this, you know what I am talking about. She dances on command, and whenever she hears music. She smiles when you look at her. She is just absolutely wonderful.
So proud that she is ours.
So this weekend we celebrate our little Emme. Our peanut. Our chunkamonk. Our Emme Lou. We celebrate Emerson Elizabeth. The little girl who none of us can imagine our lives without.
Happy first birthday Emerson. You make our souls smile. Love you more than words.
The Best part? EEB
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
When 3 year olds who are used to napping, don't nap, there are silly fits thrown over nothing.
My kids play in the cabinets. Not the ones with the chemicals. I'm not that horrible. On this particular evening. Tonight. Emerson was playing in the side of the cabinet Cannon wanted to play in. Throw out all rational thinking because it's after five and as I mentioned, no nap. Instead of opening the other door and playing in the other side he got in with her. Smashing her to the back of the cabinet.
I wasn't angry. I didn't yank. I didn't yell. I just took his hand and pulled gently to get him out of the cabinet and give her thighs some room.
I felt it. In my hand. Pop.
And just like that he quit using his left side. We've been here before. Wrapping up Sunday Funday with a dance party in the living room, a dance move with a friend caused the same pop. That time we didn't know what it was and figured he was just tired.
Nursemaid's Elbow. It's called that because nursemaids used to grab kids hands and pull them by the hand. It would in turn, pull their elbow out of it's socket.
Yep. Happened tonight. I know I didn't do it on purpose. I know it was an accident. But when your little boy looks at you crying and says 'mommy, I don't feel so good' and you know you made him feel that way, it still sucks.
He's fine now. And the cookie I wouldn't give him earlier cause he didn't eat dinner. He's totally getting it. And a popsicle too if he wants one. And maybe even a new car.
I can only hope that Dan took notes this time and we learn the proper repair technique. Not that I plan on doing it again. Ever.
The Best part? The award is up for grabs. So have at it ladies. Like a bouquet toss at a wedding.
Monday, October 17, 2011
I had two photo sessions this weekend. I am totally pleased with the results and I think (hope) the 'clients' are too. I am loving it. Like really having fun being creative and working around the sun and fussy kids and BBQ and blues fests that take place where you want to shoot. If you want to see the pictures head over to this Facebook page. Perhaps click that 'like' button while you are there? Just a thought.
I need to buy editing software. Observations and revelations posts can also serve as my 'to do' list.
I've been writing a lot over at Poop lately. You should check it out.
Got a new dining room table last week. Couldn't wait for hubs to get home to help me get it out of the car. Therefore. Did it myself. I've done smarter things in my time.
My baby girl is going to be one in five short days. Fastest year of my life. She makes my soul smile.
Cannon came running down the stairs this morning and said 'mommy! let me see how pretty you look! So pretty!'. He can throw all the chicken nuggets he wants.
Kitchen redo. Manana. Before and after post soon. Not cleaning my counters today.
One of my very bestest had a major surgery last week. She came through brilliantly. So thankful. Now mailing her all my seasons of Friends on DVD because it's still funny even if it is on Nick at Nite now.
And peace and quiet over. Baby awake.
The Best part? Celebrating our favorite little girl.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Because I don't blog enough places. I am going to start blogging for a hyper local news website here in Tampa. It's called the Patch. Owned by AOL. Nope. I had never heard of it either. Going to do some mom blogging in hopes of atrracting more mom readers to the Patch. Pretty excited about It. Will pimp my first post. Don't worry. Someday maybe I could get paid for this. Although I have almost earned my first 10$ on those lovely ads you see to the right. $10. Only took 6 months or so. Won't spend it all in one place. Promise.
I am going to start running again. Not because I like it. But because I like how I look and feel when I am doing it. No races. Just a daily jog.
Same note. Detox this week. Drinking water. Not wine. The weekend indulging has become obscene.
I am making a tutu. You read that right.
I am also making friends. More exciting than a tutu.
The pumpkins I bought last week are rotting already. Lesson learned. End of season sale on those plastic ones you store in the attic, here I come.
We are done with formula. And could be done with bottles. Because she drinks from a sippy just fine. But mama is not ready for no bottles. She still has to be a baby.
There is a major kitchen reno coming next week. Promise before and afters.
Hope your weekend was fab.
The Best part? The tutu. It's teal and red.
Friday, October 7, 2011
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.
I would be upstairs sleeping (or maybe showering cause that needs to be a priority in my life too) but instead I am listening to the pitter patter of rain drops interrupted regularly by the clomp of a three year old jumping out of his bed and onto the floor.
You see, it's nap time. For the last three years of my life from 1-3 it's naptime. It's time to recharge. Time for me to straighten up, blog, facebook, pee in peace, shower, watch Private Practice. It's breaktime. And it's time for him to rest. To stop the transition into terror and return to the sweet little boy who is rested and a pleasure to be around.
They say you never know how much you love something until it's gone.
Only I am all too aware of how much I love this time. At first I hoped it was a phase. It's always a phase. Right? That's the rule with kids. As soon as you figure it out, it changes. Only this isn't changing. It's potentially our new reality. We get maybe two naps a week now. The evenings where he crumbles on the floor into a ball of tears over having a blue shirt on at 6:30. Yeah. That.
So I call it quiet time. He's in his room and is not allowed to come out. Usually about an hour in I hear the door open and tell him to go back inside. About an hour and fifteen in he takes all his clothes off and picks out new clothes. An hour thirty in and he's opening and closing the door about every minute. When I finally go in to release the prisoner his goulashes are always out. There are books scattered around the room and he has removed the clothes he changed into and is naked.
We don't have fancy video monitors. It's probably better that I don't see what's going on in there.
I've tried bribing him to sleep. Fail. I do my best to wear him out (we went swimming this morning... outside... in October...weird) but alas, he's now playing the drums. And we don't have a drum set.
And so. On this rainy 'fall' afternoon I am releasing my hold on naptime. I am working on coming to terms with it. Just because I have to accept it doesn't mean I have to like it.
And if you think for one second that I won't still attempt a nap every day by enfocing quiet time, you would be wrong. Cause tomorrow? Maybe soccer practice will do the trick.
The Best part? One of my kids still naps. Twice a day. And. It's Friday. Happy weekend friends.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
The baby stood up on her own today. We were at a playgroup and she was across the room. She also attempted to stand up in a shopping cart. I miss shopping alone.
I put giant spiders around our palm trees. And webs. Cause I can. Until the HOA makes me take them down.
It's going to get 'cold' here next week. The moms at playgroup were talking about how it may get below 70 at night. And only like 85 during the day. Guess I will get out my Uggs.
Similar note. They cook in crock pots here year round. That's a fall and winter thing for my family. Cause there is nothing I want less when I am sweating my ass off from being outside than a hot bowl of white chicken chili or some meatballs that have spent the day simmering. Cold chicken and iced tea please.
If you haven't seen Up All Night on NBC you are missing out. Remember, I was the first to declare Modern Family the best show on television. Just saying. I pick winners.
What if the dog didn't shed? Cause Florida and golden retrievers should be illegal.
I am more than halfway through the last container of formula I intend on buying. Mama's getting a raise. Even though we've only been buying it for like a month.
Wanna know what a diaper does in the washing machine? Yeah I didn't want to know either. And no, I have no idea if it was clean or dirty. I mean I know it wasn't poopy but wet, total possibility. **shudder**
Turns out the mailbox needs to be painted. Why the letter didn't just ask us to paint it is beyond me. The property manager now knows how I feel.
The Best part? It's gonna 'cool' off!
Monday, September 26, 2011
Speaking of sticking around, I just deleted like 40 blogs from my subscriptions. 1. Google should make that easier. 2. if you do giveaways constantly of stupid products, I'm gone. 3. If you post nothing but pictures of yourself in different outfts from various retailers you are likely too old to shop at, also gone. 4. if you are boring. Bye.
Last week was packed with playdates. Like packed. Cause we need friends. All of us do. Friends who live in the same city. So we are working on it.
The dog has a new electric fence. He protested by taking a giant shit on the stairs while I was gone one day last week. Then he chased a cat up a tree three yards away. So just for that, I turned it up. Now when he goes to the corner of the living room, he gets buzzed. Didn't want him in there anyway.
Cannon has fallen in love with our new shower. It's a walk in without a door so he thinks it's pretty rad. He's right. The other night I was trying to get the baby to drink rice cereal in her bottle which she was having none of and asked the husband to bring me a new bottle. He didn't respond. So I begrugingly got up and went to find him. I found him. With two plastic bags on his hands. Someone loves the new shower so much he decided to poop in it.
We spent the weekend at Disney's Animal Kingdom Lodge. Ate breakfast with giraffes and zebras. Didn't step foot inside any amusement park. And yet we are still exhausted. Like beyond tired. We will have to start training before we make our first official Disney trip.
I got carded at a bar.
I fell in love with a mom. See on Friday night we were stupid and took the three year old without his swim suit to 'check out' the pool. Bad idea. None of us had suits on and he was swimming. In his clothes and wouldn't come out. Until this brilliant mom saw our struggles and asked Cannon if he would like to come home with her. He very quickly responded 'no' and walked right out of the pool. Thank you MOTY. I know you thought you were scaring him but really you were just helping us out.
As I type this I am out of diapers. No a single one. And it's raining. Double damn.
I'm spent. Hope you're good. Or great.
The Best part? You stuck around! :)
Thursday, September 22, 2011
She woke up at 4:30. Crying. An hour later she was still crying. I went in twice to comfort her. Reassure her that she was fine and that I was there. Didn't help. More screaming. 60 agonizing minutes and I made a bottle. She sucked down 6 ounces and is still asleep right now. She didn't fuss when I put her down that time. She went right to sleep.
I will not do that again. My Mom and Dad (who were more concerned that I was torturing their granddaughter and calling her names) and others (Jill I'm looking at you) were right. Here are my new revelations.
I talked a big game but it's not about self soothing. The child was hungry. And my decision to let her cry forced her to lose an hour of sleep and me to lose two hours (cause I laid in bed and felt awful for another hour).
She's still a baby. Needs me.
She needs to eat more during the day. Think I'll even start giving her some regular milk.
She fusses before naps and puts herself to sleep. She fusses before bed and puts herself to sleep. She can self soothe.
No one thing works for everyone.
So I take it back. She's not a manipulator. She's hungry. That's all.
Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go teach the dog to take care of the kids so I can go back to bed.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
2:30 and 5 in the morning. She was awake. Crying. I let her cry. For what felt like an eternity last night. Finally I gave in. Fed her. Prayed for her to sleep until 7. Not so much. 5. Another bottle.
I know better. I do. I know that she doesn't need to eat in the middle of the night. I would call it an ear infection. Only I know better. I would call it teething. But I know better. I would call it a growth spurt. I may still call it that. But most likely, it's manipulation. She likes to eat in the middle of the night. I understand that. I would like it too. Someone brings me some peanut butter m&m's at 3am, I'll eat them.
It has to stop. She's old enough. More than old enough. Her brother slept from 7-7 at 12 weeks. 11 months. She's 11 months. In my defense it hasn't always been this way, just the last few weeks. And I am sucker for her. And I want to savor every last ounce of her baby-ness. And I don't want her to turn one. So I am a sucker.
It has to stop. We need to sleep more than four hours at a time. Need to. Tonight will not be that night. Tonight. She cries. I gave it 20 minutes last night which terrifies me for tonight.
So Mamas. I need a pep talk. I need someone to remind me it's not torture. I need someone to remind me how good sleep is. And I need someone to come take my place tonight. Cause I'm a sucker for her.
Ready, set, go.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
I know. I know. MIA. Really nothing that interesting going on. And I hate wasting people's time with something that is uninteresting or won't make them laugh. Therefore, I say nothing at all.
So I made this neato collage. Of stuff from this week. That's sand you see. You can keep your apples and pumpkins. We will drown our lack of seasons changing sorrows, beachside.
Monday, September 12, 2011
We went to the pool yesterday. Cause it was 95. It might not be fall here but it is fall on my head. Bye bye blonde.
Please add a pressed cuban sandwich made by real Cubans to the list of reasons I run and should run more. Oh and candy corn and peanuts.
I had my first photo shoot yesterday with kids other than mine! And they liked the pictures! Or they are too nice to tell me otherwise! They are up on my Facebook page and my photo blog.
Cannon had his first soccer practice on Saturday. It was hilarious. Like a swarm of bees. Or trying to herd cats. Awesome. And it rained the whole time. And he loved it. Maybe next practice he will remember that picking up the ball and carrying it is not an option. Truth. I don't want him to fall in love with soccer unless he is going to be like World Cup good because I find it painfully boring and REALLY long. And this is coming from a swimmer. But for now. At 3 years old. It's awesome.
We've taken up skyping with our friends back 'home'. And having a few drinks via the internet. Maybe we don't have to make new real friends.
Hope everyone hugged their family today. Hope everyone remembers how lucky we all are to live where we do. Hope everyone remembers. Always. To steal a quote from a friend's facebook status. And then paraphrase it for my purposes. Remember the power of love. And the cost of hate.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Three years ago today, when I became Mom, I was a working Mom. I took the full 12 (fine, I managed to get 14) weeks and then I went back to work. As a reporter. A television news reporter. I was the one in the snow, in the ghetto, at the fire, on the scene. And it was how I identified myself. 'I'm a reporter', I would say. I was proud of it. Cause even though I knew it was a dirty, less than glamorous, work your ass off for no money job, to the people at home, it's high profile and fancy.
I am just a Mom.
When we moved in July I left that job. And although I have a killer resume tape to pass out, I haven't. Sure. I can make excuses and talk about figuring out childcare not knowing the area, not wanting to work mornings, overnights, holidays and weekends. The truth is, it is not what I want to do right now. At all.
I am just a Mom.
When we told people we were moving they would ask if I was going to get a job down here. I would say, "I'm going to stay home and be the glue for our family for a little while" or "I am going to make sure our family gets settled and moved in before I look for a job". Or "I have no idea how I could work and get everything done that needs to be done for my family right now".
I am just a Mom.
I couldn't just say 'no'. No. I am not going to work. I am going to stay home with my kids. I am going to be a Mom. Just a Mom. I couldn't say it because it was a new way of identifying myself. A way I wasn't used to. A way that I am unfamiliar with. Most of my best friends are Moms. Just Moms. Fabulous Moms. And I just wasn't ready to say that. I don't know if it was my ego. Or letting go. Probably the ego. Because what would they think? I spend my days wiping asses. Cleaning food off the floor. Sure, I could say I am working on becoming a photographer (with a lowercase 'p') but that's not my reality yet.
The word just is truly a four letter one. Oprah herself has made no secret about the fact that this is by far the hardest job in the world. And we all know how I feel about Oprah.
So let's talk about just.
I am just the person who makes sure two small humans get fed, rest, are clean, and healthy on a daily basis.
I am just the person who is working to create two people who are kind. Compassionate. Caring. Passionate. Curious. Inquisitive. Interesting. Funny. And who most importantly make the world a better place.
I am just a Mom.
I am a Mom.
Today I am soaking in every single second of being just a Mom. And I am eliminating the word just from my answer from now on. Or I am adding the words 'themostfabulouscaringlovinghardworkingsexyamazing' before just. I am a Mom. I am the head of this household. And my heart is full.
And so tonight. We will celebrate our little boy. Maybe even toast to him with some champagne we have been saving for such an occasion. Celebrate the one who made us parents. Celebrate his curiosity, his passion, his energy, and all of him.
Happy birthday Cannon Rhys. Thanks for making me just themostfabulousamazinghardworkingsexyamazing Mom around.
Today. He is the Best part.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
There is a pile to the ceiling of broken down boxes for the moving company to come get. It works nicely in the room I have no furniture for.
We feel settled. Close to normal. It feels amazing.
The dog apparently didn't get the memo that we moved to Florida 7 weeks ago. The shedding is epic.
On Thursday I will have a three year old. I keep telling him that he needs to act like one. And as soon as I say it I remember, he is acting like one.
Know what sucks about preschool on Monday and Wednesday? Labor day.
Have I mentioned never taking your basement for granted? Cause that wok you use once a year? The wreath (or reef if you prefer) you pull out in the spring? The giant workout ball you never use? Well. If you didn't have a basement....
Normally I would have scarecrows out and a fall wreath. I am going to miss the change of seasons. Cause if we open our windows we might die. But I will burn harvest scented candles and pretend. I will not feel the same way in February. So I rest easy with the a/c on.
Bought patio cushions on sale. Had to go to six different Walmarts to find them all. Totally worth it.
On a different Walmart trip saw a woman walking around in her bathing suit. No pants. Cause it's Florida?
I have a photo shoot on Saturday! A teeny tiny baby shoot! Yay!
There are projects to be done, painting to tackle, and furniture to shop for... But life is good. We are good. Hope you are too!
Happy fall y'all!
The Best part? Settled. We are settled.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
The first box I opened had a picture one of our closest gave us. Happier heart.
The next box had half toys half Christmas decorations.
The guys who unloaded our stuff worked their asses off. And they have to do it every single day.
It poured almost all day. Didn't care. It was like Christmas for my kids.
None of the China is broken.
I have no idea how we crammed all this shit in our old house. No idea.
The were two boxes labeled 'reef'. What was inside had nothing to do with coral or pot, rather Christmas. Reef.
The garage. There may not ever be cars in there. Ever. Do not ever take a basement for granted.
This morning I heard my husband showering in the kids bathroom. Walked in. Yep. Just as I thought. No curtain. No hot water in the master shower. Working on that. I too showered today in there. Without a curtain. Then I found a curtain. An hour later I found the curtain rings. Cause why would you pack the rings with the curtain they came off of? Clearly it makes more sense to pack the rings with my purses.
I busted my ass unpacking today and organizing and cleaning. Yet it looks pretty much the same as it did before I started.
Our new dryer is amazing. It's not new. It was here. But either our old dryer sucked ass or this one has super powers. Drying four pool towels and 6 hand towels in 45 minutes. You rock. Rock on.
It is so quiet. Like SO quiet. Maybe it's the fact that we came from an apartment sandwiched between an elephant and a tap dancer. But the silence last night. Amazing.
I took down the curtains today. They were covered in cat hair. Ew. Not a cat person. Was going to maybe consider having them dry cleaned and putting them back up. But. There were four curtains. Each with 20 ties. Tied onto rings that didn't come off the rod. Oh and they're more than 8 feet off the ground. So I untied eight loops. Then I got out the scissors. Oops.
Any idea where movers would pack finials? If they weren't packed with the lamps they belong to?
I thought I got rid of a bunch of stuff before we moved. Should have gotten rid of more. I mean. Last years Christmas card surplus? Ours. Not other people's.
But. We are here. Neighbors have left notes. Sent emails. It's already terrific.
That's the Best part.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
My girl with her butt buried firmly in the sand. Waves at her feet. Thighs abound. Be still my heart.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
First up. The cat removal. Not live ones but the remnants of them. I am not a cat person. At all. Gross me out. So the deep cleaners came today and all things cat, dirt and grossness from old occupants is gone. Now we start fresh. With our own dirt.
New appliances are already in. Makes a huge difference.
They served us margaritas at closing. Not kidding. Awesome.
We went to the pool on Saturday. In love. Feels like we're on vacation. And a luau on Saturday night. Again. In love. Met some new neighbors. Even went to an 'after party'. There are a lot more fake boobs here in Tampa than in Kentucky. When in Rome...
And in other news. Created a photography business Facebook page. You should probably like it. Have a few things in the works and am starting a class in a couple weeks.
Tomorrow. Truck comes. I have never missed the little stuff so much. Can't wait.
That means tonight. This very night. Is the last night in the apartment. Can I get a hell to the yeah?!?!? The babysitter asked me when we got home last night if there were elephants living above us. See. Not just me.
Don't look for me for a while. I'm knee deep in unpacking, organizing, and putting my family together. Happy heart.
The Best part? We are home. Finally.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Twice I blogged about having a house, then I freaked out about an appraisal and a listing agent and called a house toxic. We are signing papers on that house this morning. So it has been untoxified.
I tend to get passionate. And hot headed and have tunnel vision. Sometimes it takes a day or two or a slap in the face to look at the big picture.
Let me explain. So the house appraised for less than the sale price. Not by much. Maybe 5%. But I was bent out of shape. I was angry that the sellers wouldn't budge to move the house. Angry at their ridiculous listing agent. And for the record, if I met her in a dark alley I would get at least one good shot in. Anyway. Who in the hell pays more for a house than it's worth? In this housing market? You'd have to be insane. Or suckers. Or both.
Or. You are a family. Who just moved 1000 miles away. And you found the perfect house. In the most perfectest neighborhood with an instant community and phenomenal schools and you just know it's right. And they have parities called 'flamingo mingles' and they have play groups and soccer and tennis and swimming for kids. And its safe. So safe. Play in the front yard safe.
It is home.
We met the sellers halfway. And in three short days a massive truck will pull up in front of our new house and we will begin putting our roots down.
You may shake your head and think our decision was ridiculous. And that's ok. You no longer have to hear me complain about the apartment. So just be thankful. And now, we can move on with real life. Get real life started. Use our own spoons. Sleep on our own sheets. Paint the walls. Move the furniture. Walk around naked. What?
So. Tonight we open a bottle of champagne we have been saving. For this very night. Or maybe for the first night we actually sleep there.
Anyway. There it is. The story you have been dying for. Happy weekend friends.
The Best part? Home. Sweet sweet home.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Have you ever shopped at a Super Target? I was excited. Cause I love Target. And was totally excited with their 'pre-made' selections for dinner. Then disappointed with what I bought. And it's way pricier than other grocers. Fail.
There is no Trader Joe's in Tampa. There is however, a website dedicated to bringing one here. So I am not the only one devastated by the lack of their deliciousness. Yes. It's a word.
Dr. Brown's bottle lids are in my top ten things I am excited to unpack in a week. Wonder how long it will take me to find them. Little things.
And toys. I don't care about the furniture. The rest of our clothes. Televisions. I want my kids to have toys again. Anytime we go somewhere with toys they are salivating. If I had it to do over I would pack more toys. Lots more.
A few times since we have moved into the apartment I have almost run right into probably the tallest person I have ever seen in real life. He always flashes the kindest smile and says hi to the kids. He was in the pool the other afternoon when we were swimming. He can't swim. But I guess when the pool is only five feet deep and you are SEVEN feet tall, it doesn't matter. For the record he's from Nigeria and plays for the Toronto Raptors. An NBA team. Yeah, I had never heard of them either.
You need to check out this website. You will laugh out loud.
Also. I am chatting about daycare options over at Poop today. Check it. If you want. No one's forcing you. Geez.
The listing agent on our new house (Friday at 4, you will hear all about it. Promise) clearly thinks we are stupid. She felt the need to explain the option of a 'counter depth' fridge. I want to punch her.
I went to this tiny little liberal arts school (DePauw, with a W not an L). Like 2500 students. In Greencastle, Indiana. Never been there? You're missing out. Seriously. Anyway. I dropped Cannon at his new preschool yesterday and another mom was peeking through the window with me to check on our kiddos. Our convo went something like this: she tells me she's from Indiana, I tell her I went to DePauw, she tells me her husband went there, I tell her I was a pi phi (fine, AM a pi phi) and she tells me she was a pi phi at IU. Yep. That's a sign that all is right in the world.
Speaking of preschool. It was super! He loved it! And goes back tomorrow. It's in a nondenominational church. So he'll even learn a little God while he's there. Which is cool with me. Can't hurt. That's for sure. And to me, nondenominational is basically Unitarian which is fine by me.
The Best part? This video of the cutest, funniest, little girl you ever did see. Yes. She is mine.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Furry Friends is the challenge this week. Here's our furriest friend, Tucker being a really good boy while Cannon counts the pads on his feet. I mean. Sure, sometimes I want to leave him on the side of the road but it's moments like this where I remember why we love Tuck.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Anyway. A dinner out is nothing new these days. To be honest, I am sick of it. I haven't been so excited to meal plan in a long long time.
But last night. We ate out again. Only this time I didn't have to stop conversation to blow on someone's chicken, tell someone to out their shoes on, or apologize and tip extra for the amount of food left on the floor.
Thats right. A date. Without my kids. And sure. We were home by bedtime. But we didn't eat somewhere they serve French fries (rather Hawaiian fusion which means sushi, hoo.ray.) and we talked. And laughed. And enjoyed each others company.
I so needed that two hours.
Now the randomness.
If I had a list of my favorite ways to spend a Sunday IKEA would be n the top five.
On Friday night we will be eating pizza and drinking beer on the floor of an empty house.
Preschool starts tomorrow. Not sure who is more excited. Cannon's class has seven boys. And one girl. This is completely opposite of the way things were at 'home'. He needs school. I need school. This is good.
We still call NKY home. Not sure why. Maybe it's cause we don't have a home here yet.
We went to the beach yesterday. Every time we get ready to go Cannon says 'I can't wait to put my toes in the sand!' This is clearly my child.
Although. He is little. 31st percentile for height. I am five eight. Dan is six two. Weird. Maybe if he ate things other than chicken fingers and yogurt he would grow.
Tonight I will go to bed before 10. If I keep saying it maybe it will come true.
Turned on the news this morning to see what was going on in the world. First thing they talked about was Kim Kardashian's wedding. I love reality TV as much as the next girl. But really? I really really don't care.
And now I am boring. So friends. Hope your weekends were swell.
The Best part? IKEA.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
My (almost) three year old held his sister yesterday. For the first time. She is almost 10 months old.
I am in naptime/bedtime hell. Do we take a nap, not take a nap, go to bed at a reasonable hour, act like a shit until 9? It's all very confusing. If you haven't already, check out 'go the fuck to sleep' on YouTube read by Samuel L. Jackson. Cause it's how I feel every night.
The baby's obsession with the potty needs to stop.
I cleaned the apartment for the last time today. Ok. Not entirely true but one of the last times. Yes. There is news. But I don't want to jinx it. Waiting until the ink is dry.
The level of my delight over our new grocery store is pathetic.
My (almost) 3 year old today told me girls don't drink beer. He is mostly right.
I am currently in a battle of wills over bows. She will not win.
If you do nothing else today, go over to to poop whisperer and read how eloquently Jess tackled something we should all be more aware of and sensitive to.
I quit Google+. Lame. It was lame. Maybe if they had thought of it before Facebook. Just saying. Anyway, jumped on the Pinterest train. Have no idea what I am doing or why but I am certain it will result in money being spent.
And finally, for my handful of new followers. Am not always this boring. Swear. Pinky swear. And welcome aboard!
The Best part? The ink will be dry. Soon. Not soon enough but soon.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Am I the only one who fights off laughter when my toddler throws one of those kicking and screaming at the top of his lungs fits? It's hard not to laugh. For me at least. So much energy coming from such a little body.
Also. He only wants Daddy to read to him at night, get him out of his carseat, wipe his ass these days. You won't hear me complaining.
What is wrong with strawberries in Florida? Anyone? They suck.
I got to see a real friend on Friday. For just a few hours. Doesn't matter. I needed that hug, that chatting, that happiness. From someone who knows me. Happy heart.
Saturday night after a dirty diaper I let a pretty bad diaper rash air out. Only she ate sand that day. And so. From the kitchen. A trail. Of poop. That no one noticed until she crawled all the way into the bedroom. The apartment is not that big. So. How was your Saturday night? Shitty?
I pretty regularly look at my husband and think, 'damn, I did good'. Thought you should know.
I've got nothing else. But big house update this week. Maybe even tomorrow. And I'm pretty sure you'll find me over at Poop Whisperer talking at boobs or poop or both. So you have that to look forward to.
The Best part? The poop on the carpet cause it's a rental.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Eyes. The challenge is eyes. Please ignore the cracker in her hair. The challenge isn't hair, it's eyes.
So. That was fun. No?
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
It just got better.
We sent our cancellation.
The listing agent on the house called our realtor and suggested that if were already bringing 20% to the table, why couldn't we just bring the difference between the appraised cost and sale price? Um. Clearly you don't understand. We are not paying more than the appraised price.
She was also upset because they felt like we were only giving them one option. Um. We are. Sell it to us for the appraised price or we walk. One option.
Then. She suggested if we didn't have the cash that we could just ask our parents for the money. I'm sorry. What? I swear I would punch this woman in her delusional face if she was in front of me.
This house has gone from good, to questionable, to bad, to toxic and we are done.
I believe in karma. I believe things happen for a reason. As my friend Tracey put it, I want to punch people when they say that but it's true. Things happen for a reason.
Here's the deal. We bought a house. A good house in a neighborhood we love. Love. I am already in playgroups and have a school picked out and we are going to a luau at the end of the month. Or I was and we were.
The house appraised lower than the purchase price. Now. Before I go on let me remind you, we now live in Florida. And if you know one iota about the housing market, Florida is bad. Really bad. A 'buyers' market. We thought.
So. Appraisal comes in lower than purchase price. Ok. Well, that's not our fault, it is what it is. We asked the sellers to lower the purchase price to the appraised value and we can move on. They said no. They keep saying no. They want to spend two weeks we don't have fighting the appraisal. Let me give you the figures on that. Our lender says in the last two months, he has had 20 appraisals appealed. ZERO appraisals have been amended aft the two to three week appeal process.
So. Its two to three weeks we don't have first of all. Second of all, please remind me why in the hell I would ask to pay more for this house? Third of all, I am sorry that you paid so much for this house and are going to lose money. It's not my problem.
A little history on these mystery cheap-o's. They are both surgeons. Like as in DOCTORS. They are getting divorced and hate each other and this is likely the last asset they have together. Who in their right mind wouldn't suck it up, write a check and move on with their life? I do not understand. At all. And to be clear, the house didn't appraise for 100k less than we were going to pay. It's not that much less, especially for a surgeon. But you won't find us opening our checkbooks and paying more than a house is worth. Find some other suckers.
So. At noon today our cancellation contract goes into effect. And we move on. I am sad about the neighborhood and the house. And about having to go back to house hunting. We are looking at renting too. We only have a matter of weeks to get out of this apartment and move on with our real life.
So. There you go. We will walk away. They will put the house back on the market for another six months and easily spend in mortgage payments the difference between the appraised value and the sale price.
Seems like a no brainer to me.
So there you have it. The drama and ridiculousness of it all.
Maybe the third time will be the charm.
The Best part? Karma is a bitch. And they are going to learn that the hard way.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
I am done nursing. Or close to done. 9 1/2 months of only breast milk for my Peanut. Impressive if I don't say so myself. There's a major post coming on the nursing stoppage. But I am pretty sure I should get a medal or a party or something for making it this long.
These two above are not related or weren't related at the onset but better posture may help undo damage done by gravity and my children. Or at least create an optical illusion. Sigh.
The apartment complex where our corporate housing is sent out a memo telling residents when they re-sign their leases they will be cheek swabbing dogs to take a DNA sample. Yep. To determine who doesn't pick up their dog shit. Pretty sure if I actually lived here I might think rent was a bit high if there's money to catch non-poop scoopers via DNA samples.
We upgraded our cellphones. Joined this decade. Got droids. That little gremlin looking thing creeps me out.
I sat down on the couch on Friday and exclaimed,'Mama is pooped!' to which Cannon responded, 'Mommy you need to go to the potty!'.
Summer tv is killing me.
Oh and the house could fall through. Again. If it does you will hear my breakdown from wherever you are. I am looking at you my reader in Russia.
All everyone talks about is how we moved to Florida at the worst time. About how it's so hot. Here's the thing. I don't think it's that hot. And it's hot everywhere right now. Anyone looked at the weather map of Texas lately???
The Best part? 9 1/2 months. I will be awaiting my medal.
Monday, August 8, 2011
He's almost 3. His life is upside down too. He has no toys. No where to play. No space to call his own. No friends to speak of. No school to go to. No regularity to anything. In our world that equals chaos. It means tantrums, listening to Mommy and Daddy a lot less, and generally just more time outs and frustrations. What doesn't kill us... Anyway.
This weekend we were leaving the mall. All four of us. I had the double jogger with the baby in it. And carry out from California Pizza Kitchen (oh and we don't eat here on the weekends, or weekdays really for that matter). Daddy had the almost 3 year old and a bag. Cannon didn't want to leave the mall and in his declartory new voice he was letting us know it. We got outside into a very busy parking lot and he took off. In a parking lot.
I am screaming his name. All three names (and not just cause his middle name is super cool). We are chasing him. It is not pretty. Finally got a hold of him and spanked him (for putting himself in danger, first time I've done that... post over here on the spanking issue).
This is where it got interesting.
Out of nowhere comes this guy. He looks homeless. Or maybe just drunk. Dirty, long fingernails. Yellow teeth. An odd buttondown one piece outfit. And a white beard down to his belly button. Yep.
He says, 'does he know who I am?' scaring the shit out of me. Um. Yes. He knows who you are and I will kick your ass if you try anything scary old, homeless, Santa looking creepo. But as creepy as he was, his lecture about watching him, making sure he's being nice and not naughty, and a reminder that Christmas is coming, was a welcome gesture. And perhaps, Santa got the message across better than I did in my scared, angry state.
So thanks summertime mall Santa. For helping calm us all down. And for using your gross long beard for good. The A-Team of Santas will thank you come holiday time.
The Best part? Santa's summertime suit.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
These are all things I would like to do without my children. But since we are living in 43 square feet (not to be dramatic about it) we all do everything together all the time. Especially the bathroom thing.
When I go to pee it's like a damn parade. First comes the dog who has taken to following me everywhere. I am not sure why, I am pretty sure he knows I don't really like him a lot right now (cause he's a pain in my ass) so why he needs to be at my feet every waking second of every day is beyond me. Oh and PS he's not a lapdog. He weighs 70 pounds. Then comes the toddler. He comes in and says, 'Mom, what you doing?'. I respond. He asks me where my penis is and I am usually saved from answering by the baby who comes ferociously crawling in the door and heads straight for the trashcan full of dirty diapers, q-tips, and whatever else. And bathroom break over.
Well. What's cool is that the same thing goes for Daddy when he is home. Only the toddler wants to pee with him. At the same time. Obviously not something we can do with Mommy, what with my lack of penis and all. So. Daddy comes home, walks to the bathroom and is followed by aforementioned parade of characters. Only this parade has a half naked toddler.
Even though it was Daddy's birthday last night, the scene was the same. Enter Daddy. "Happy birthday Daddy! Me go pee with you?" "Thanks buddy! Sure, come on! Let's go pee!"
Last night was a bit different though. While the boys were peeing. The toddler grabbed Daddy's unit/ penis/ business/ whatever you want to call it and said 'snake!'. Of course he did.
I am sure there is a lesson in here somewhere. About your private parts being private. Or keeping your hands and feet and other objects to yourself. I was too busy laughing. Plus, it wasn't my penis he grabbed. Just saying.
So. For your 33 birthday my love, you got an ego boost. And a penis grab. Here's to you. We love you. Don't say you never got anything nice.
The Best part? Daddy's face when he came out of the potty.
Monday, August 1, 2011
But. We are in the inspection phase of our new house and so far so good. I mean, no termites. That's a plus, right? So. Here she is.
So. We wait on the plumber, and the roofer, and the floor guy, to make sure we aren't buying a money pit and in the meantime I emailed the mom out of the neighorhood magazine (yep, neighborhood magazine) about play groups. Know what she told me? That our section of the neighborhood does monthly 'flamingo mingles' (I can totally get into that) and that there's a luau at the end of August that she is bringing us to so we can meet everyone. Oh and that there are kids at every house. I mean. I cried. Just a little bit. But I am dying for a sense of community. For friends and wine on a back porch. For my wine glasses. And my furniture. And some toys. Blah blah.
I will make you a deal. From now until we close I will only complain about the apartment once a week. Promise.
Happy Monday friends. Off to walk the dog down three flights of stairs so he can pee. Please don't poop... please don't poop...
The Best part? It's more wonderful than the first house.