This is my first attempt at a photoblog. It may take a while to load, my apologies. And as I'm still etarded and limited on time, I use slide.com. This is my pictorial tribute to the 4th of July. Enjoy.
America the Beautiful Words by Katharine Lee Bates Melody by Samuel Ward Photos by Jennifer
O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America! God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!
Did you know there are 7 more stanzas? Maybe I'll do another from a tongue in cheek point of view. Stay tuned. I'm home alone with a sleeping baby and it's beer thirty.
I hope my Fairy Godmaid brings beer...
Current mood: distractable
Category: Life
I've been in a bit of a manic mode around the house lately. I blame the following, in order, but with emphasis on number 3, and I'll explain.
1. My older daughters have been visiting relatives out of town the entire week. I'm not refereeing, pleading, cooking for them, cleaning up the same spot I just cleaned, or being begged to "do something fun."
2. I can't stand looking at these moving boxes much longer. The baby is getting more mobile and those boxes will soon become a hazard to her.
3. My across the street neighbor.
Now to explain:
We moved into this very large home for a several reasons, the main one being we needed the room to all live together.
I'm detail oriented and favor list making when I've so much to do that I can't cram it all into my noggin. This house has THE list. Each room, garage, porch, deck, front, back, and side yards, listed with everything that needs done in order to complete that space. THE list is 4 pages long right now, but grows with each new idea I glean from HGTV.
Each daughter has a bedroom, and will have it painted to meet their exacting standards when I can move some other things around on THE list.
Both adults have their own office, Rocco's is set up and mine is still very much a disaster area.
And the basement for now is kid central.
Being that it was my first move in almost 10 years, I came with lots of stuff. LOTS of stuff. That stuff encompasses the entirety of both my older daughters' lives in the form of toys, books, clothes, electronics, enough stuffed animals to start my own Build A Bear Workshop, and crap: tiny, miniscule, itsy bitsy, teeny weenie pieces of whothehellknowswhatitwasinaformerlife, crap. And lets not forget my scrap booking stuff-a veritable traveling paper store including 4 large boxes crammed full of albums, pictures, memorabilia and things I would so hurt to ever lose. Add to that my jewelry making items and you've got a basement that resembles a flea market right now.
I no longer watch HGTV. I'm scared that THE list will end up as a novel.
So back to the number 3 explanation. Our across the street neighbors have been here since Oct.-only 16 weeks longer than us. Their house is the exact mirror image of ours, but with less livable square footage due to the layout of the walls in their basement. His job requires them to move every 2 years or so (not military), and they've 3 children, a cat, and as of yesterday 3 new hermit crabs. They went on vacation recently and trusted me with their keys and garage code in order to cat-sit.
Their house is immaculate. There are no spare boxes. There are paintings, photos and art on the walls. Several rooms are painted. AND the garage will fit BOTH cars.
People, I'm having a moment of pure unadulterated envy here, and a wish for a Fairy Godmaid. Now, I have no idea if that house remains in that uncluttered state daily. It was enough to just see that, yes, it can be done. I'm on week one of my 16 week count down, shooting for an empty garage by fall.
Wish me luck and lots of beer, as I'll be painting soon. One Corona, 2 Corona, 3 Corona, floor…..
*****UPDATED*****GO CHALLENGERS!!
Current mood: stoked
Category: Sports
*****UPDATE****UPDATE BELOW!!*****
Small update on the softball season-older daughter's team is in the Championship Game tonight. I'm so proud of these girls and all they've accomplished this season.
We parents will go eejit tonight decorating our cars, the stands, the dugout for them. We'll sit in the stands and cheer them on, mouth off at the coaches (all in jest, mind you-there are so many inside jokes with this team it's quite the norm), and eagle eye the umpires, who so far this season have really shown all these teams equality across the board. They are playing the 2 ranked team tonight.
Good luck ladies!!!
GO CHALLENGERS!!
*****THEY WON!!!!!***** Tied 3-3 in the bottom of the 6th, 2 outs, my daughter up to bat. Swing-foul tip. Swing-strike. Swing-low infield fly, bobbled and she's tossed out at first.
The game is now in OT, with international tie-breaker rules in play. The opposing team's last out at bat begins the inning on second, stealing to third while our pitcher tosses their batters out as fast as they hit the plate.
Bottom of the 7th now, and my daughter, who was our last batted out, begins at second base. She's got her momma's legs, but has yet to develop her speed. Her 3rd base coach has yet to figure out that she will do exactly as you say, but you damned well better be paying attention, or she's liable to run on her own.
That's what happened from 2nd to 3rd as she stole on a bobbled catcher's play.
Next batter up, a hit, and my daughter runs like I've never seen her go, scoring THE WINNING RUN!!! I was so excited for them I was shaking. It was a very exciting and emotional moment.
These young ladies are truly incredible individuals, but as a team, they really show their colors. They may give the parents a heart attack with the close calls, but they sure make it one entertaining night.
After the presentation of trophies, where once again the coach stood there with open arms for each girl, he huddled them up for his end of season speech. Coach's mom, who loved watching these girls play, died a few months ago, but was in attendance via photo on the front row. Knowing how involved and emotional he can get, these girls showed their maturity by burying him in a shower of silly string before he could shed a tear.
So softball season ends for older daughter tonight, with that Championship trophy she so wanted last season in a place of pride on the table next to her bed as she sleeps.
For the love of the game, she'll do this again next year.
Hey batter, batter.
Current mood: pleased
Category: Sports
Quick update:
I've been kinda quiet around the blogsphere lately. This time of year I usually fill my blogs with all things summer and softball, but to be honest I've been too frigging busy volunteering to even SEE my own daughter's games this season.
Last night was the exception.
With the schedules around here being way nuts, my presence needed in that concession stand every blinking minute it's open, Rocco handling school, work, and baby duty while I'm at the fields, I'm lucky I remember exactly where I'm to be when.
So last night I'd had enough of the non-volunteering parents and decided that MY schedule was coming before anyone else's and I watched an entire game. So glad I did-older daughter was ON and I was so glad to not disappoint her again.
"Mom, I got a double, did you see?; I scored, I stole 3rd, I got an RBI, did you see?" Almost every game I've had to answer no as I've been in command and imprisoned by the concession stand. It does stand between both my daughter's usual fields, but it's just not the same.
This night, she knew I was in the stands, as I placed myself and the baby stroller as close to home as possible so she could see me in her usual position of right field.
First batter up, down in 3. Our pitcher is a phenom who will undoubtedly go far in this sport if she so chooses.
Next batter up, a southpaw and she hits a long, high fly to right field RIGHT into my daughter's glove. OMG I could have just cried. ALL SEASON I've not been able to watch and she cranks out THE game I needed not to miss.
At bat-single. Steals 2nd. At bat-strike out. Fielding, backing up 1st base like she was going pro. At bat-much needed hit and RBI.
I had a blast. She had a blast. The game was great and she ended up with the game ball as our team won 4-2.
The look of self satisfaction on her face was enough to convince me that she is, no matter how old she gets, or how grown she acts, still a child who needs the "atta girls" that only mom can give. Even the pats on the back from her teammates, even the pep talks from her coaches stand in a dull second to the one thing she really needs to see-me. Her loud mouthed, super busy, over scheduled, will embarrass her at the drop of a hat, whistle blowing, hand clapping, umpire call disputing mom.
It doesn't get any better than that.
Regular season for her ends on Friday night, for younger daughter on Saturday morning. Tournaments begin Monday, June 16.
Locals-come join us for some fun, food, and competition.
Domino’s ABSOLUTELY Delivers
Current mood: blessed
Category: Friends
Something tremendous happened in this little burg yesterday.
Something that affirms my belief in the good in people.
Something that made me proud to be a part of this community.
Whatever the political/religious/racial/ethnic/he said-she said/backwards views this and all communities face daily, it's wonderful to know that deep inside, in the very depths of souls, there lives hope, and kindness.
Yesterday, the world's fastest pizza maker was summoned from his pizzeria in D.C. by his friend, the Manager of our local Domino's. He dropped everything and drove through the night for his friend. The reason for the summons was a charity pizza drive, with 25% of the store's daily income going straight to the family.
His name is Chandler. He's 8. He's a second grader at my daughters' school. And he's terminal. Cancer struck this little boy in the form of brain tumors. Some have been removed, but this latest round has been deemed inoperable.
He's 8. He is the same age as my younger daughter, he played with her on the playground at school before he got so sick. St. Jude's had been wonderful for this family, but they are at a loss now as to possible treatment options for him.
He's 8.
I had been given a flyer from my former neighbor, and really didn't think about it until I saw the news report from the pizza place last night. It quickly became pizza night in my house. I ordered online, and set out to retrieve.
The parking lot was packed, with cars waiting on the highway to turn in. The store lobby, which is as big as a postage stamp to begin with was also packed, families spilling out the door and onto the sidewalk and parking lot pavement. There were at least 40 Domino's employees working side by side in a space that on a good day may hold 10. And there were pizzas everywhere. The warming cart was full from just above the floor to almost touching the ceiling. The family of this little boy worked with the staff to help get the paid pizzas out the door. It was an amazing thing to witness.
I paid, I left a large tip, and had to dig out a tissue when I got back in the ride. Older daughter could not believe her eyes. And she said, and I quote: "Mom, this town is amazing sometimes." I echo that sentiment, baby.
The news reported today that over $21,000 was raised. I hope it helps that family do so many amazing things with him before he passes away.
Don’t make me do this.......
Current mood: devious
Category: Life
I know I mentioned in a blog earlier that I'd been drafted to head the concession stand for the Parks and Rec. league fast pitch softball league this season. So far, not so bad.
However, there are other days I'd just like to do this all day long on the fields:
Fly the friendly skies, bitch.
Current mood: intense
Category: Travel and Places
Adventures in travel: Spring Break-finis
Up again before the crack of dawn to hopefully catch the 6AM Dumb Early Lines Taking Alottatime shuttle to Hotlanta. Not a problem on this flight and I even sat in first class. I still have NO idea how that happened, but it’s the best nap I’ve had on a plane in a long time.
Hit Atlanta and as usual-gate change. So I’m hustling from B terminal back to A terminal where our plane was supposed to have parked in the first place. 7 minutes….I made my seat with 7 minutes to spare. I so hate flying lately.
I get to sit with a mother-daughter combo, let’s just call them Mitsy and Bitsy, who are quick to notice that we are in the very uncomfortable position of flying with a child. Oh yay. By all accounts and from visual I.D., a normal child, until the plane fires up and begins to move. STILL on the ground and he’s having a shit-fit to look out the window. His older sister currently occupies that seat, mom in the middle, and some poor lady who’s flown a red-eye from Vegas. She definitely crapped out on that seat arrangement.
But wait a minute, there are 4 people named, and only 3 seats. That’s right, folks a lovely "infant in arms" traveling mom. OK, I know some people do it as a way to save money, but it’s just not safe at all. AND there is an age limit that I’m certain he passed about 6 months ago.
So the little darling has begun what will become for everyone around him the flight from hell. Screaming, kicking, punching, hitting, tossing his half eaten food on the floor, in my shoe, in his other seatmate’s hair. And mom? Mom is a royal bitch to everyone around her, as several people have now started the seatmate to seatmate conversations about this entertainment.
Mitsy and Bitsy are traveling to Miami for a cruise with 5 other mother-daughter combos-all of them straight out of prep school fashion catalogs-and none of them pleased with how THAT mom is acting and reacting to her child’s temper tantrum.
Even the flight attendant had had enough and strongly suggests that she take him for a walk. Twice he suggested it before he physically removed him from his mother’s arms and took off with him himself. We clapped, and THAT mom sent out the laser death stare, then had the nerve to make some pissy comments.
Yeah, that didn’t go without some back, let me tell you. For some reason, she zeroed in on me as the instigator in our row of seats (surprisingly I hadn’t been) and started with:
Bitch mom:"O, and you’re such a seasoned flyer with kids." Me:"Well, actually I am. I’ve 3, but only two have flown-next question?" Bitch mom again: "I guess you think it’s funny that I’m having an issue here." Me, drawing guns now: "Actually, I find it quite sad that a mom of your advanced age has yet to figure out how to travel successfully with kids." Bitch mom’s final hurrah: "You can see I’m struggling, what would you like me to say?" Me, with the kill line: "Well, I’d like you to say nothing more, shut the hell up and take a wing walk with your loin fruit."
Nasty I know, but I’d had it with the idiot, AND Mitsy and Bitsy were about to wet their Seven jeans laughing, so I thought it best to give THAT mom a reason to leave her seat. Besides, the 10 rows around us were all full of a team of male high school tennis players ALSO heading for a spring break cruise. That last line had them in full laugh riot.
A tiny part of me felt bad that she’d opened herself up for humiliation instead of doing the right thing and apologizing for her child. The other part of me was really, really glad younger daughter wasn’t with me then, as I’m sure she would have beat me to the punch and told that mother exactly what she felt. And we all know her brain to mouth filter is warped or something.
So we continue to fly, watching this scene of pure stupidity unfold and unravel more people around us. Some man behind us taps my seat and tries the "you’re a mother, you should have some sympathy" route. Bitsy looks him dead in the eye and says "Well, we all know how many men can handle something like that, why don’t you step up there, big guy?" His wonderful child had named every effing plane type and model that drove by our window while we were taxiing out from Atlanta. Geek and the uber-geek. He really didn’t make another peep after that.
Tennis boys decided they would help out the red-eye flyer and one of those young men trades her seat while she’s in the bathroom so she can get some rest. He got a round of applause.
We land, and a very tiny foreign lady steps up to THAT mom and gives her some flying advice-that’s when we all find out the kid’s got TUBES for crying out loud. Her mom card should be revoked.
I de-plane and have become the talk of those cruise ladies. Some will be stopping by here to read, I’m sure. Hope you girls had a nice cruise. LOL.
I’ve made it a habit to lunch at Sam Snead’s at PBI when I’m doing this turnaround pick-up. This time was no different, except I was joined for lunch by Todzilla and the lovely Ms. Lisa. We enjoyed conversation, laughs and a very nice meal. It’s apparent they love each other and was so nice to see. They are a myspace couple, having begun their relationship from a blog comment. They are expecting their son in May, and I cannot wait to meet him.
I get the girls from Nana, along with the abbreviated version of their trip and we are off to the races again. Flight out is late, making an hour layover in Atlanta become a 10 minute asshaul from A terminal this time to B. I really hate the Atlanta airport. The kids are exhausted, they’ve been drugged with Benadryl to help with the lobster skin they both are sporting, so getting them to hustle was a cattle prod moment.
We made it, with a 5 minute window that time. And that was all she wrote for us all. We became 3 mouth breathers within minutes of take-off. We got home well past midnight this time. I’m ready to invent a transporter myself.
Today marks yet another sad anniversary in my family calendar.
My mom died on this date last year, a victim of addiction to a legal domesticated drug-cigarettes. Her diagnosis of small and large cell lung cancer in August of 2006 came as no surprise. I’d been expecting that diagnosis for years. Mom lit her first smoke at 16, and didn’t quit until 2003, when she was 57.
I blogged extensively during her fight for time, pouring out my thoughts here for friends and family, and what I learned about both her and myself during her struggle and our attempts to care for her.
My siblings and I are close, but soon after her death we drifted a bit apart. Not a huge drift, but just enough that we all noticed the space we’d created. After months of her constant care, wrangling legal papers, doctor and hospice consultations, feedings, answering questions from friends and family, the constant weight of grief in watching someone you love suffer so; it was a normal reaction to withdraw somewhat, to find our centers again.
We had Christmas in February this year, on the day Rocco and I moved into our new home together. In the middle of the moving boxes, with 15 friends enjoying a wonderful catered dinner prepared by another set of friends, we had our family gathering. We opened gifts, laughed, said our thank yous and relished the first time we’d all been together as a family in almost a year.
It was nice.
It was fun.
It was needed.
And it was missed.
We are all so busy with family, work, kid sport schedules (mostly mine, as the nephews are still pre-school aged), and the ins and outs of daily living, we’ve put life as a unit on hold.
So today, with the 1st anniversary of our mother’s death, I celebrate the lives she gave us. Through all her struggles she taught both the lessons of how and how not to live.
Adventures in travel:Spring Break, volume 1.
Current mood: amused
Category: Travel and Places
Adventures in travel, spring break volume 1
Arrive at the airport a tad closer to pre-dawn than I’d seen in a very long time. To expedite the getting from the car to the terminal, I decided valet parking was the way to go. It may cost me a $20, but the convenience when traveling with 2 kids and major baggage is worth it.
Walk in to Delta self service check in and met with our first wrinkle-seems ALL the connections to Atlanta this morning have been canceled and we’ve been re-booked to another airline. We stand in the Delta line forever, then stand in the USAir line, where that very nice gentlemen re-routes us from the Louisville-LaGuardia-West Palm route Delta booked us into, to a more direct Louisville-DC-West Palm that arrives 2 hours earlier. Lucky thing, as my return flight back to KY is only 45 minutes after we touch down in West Palm.
The kids have so far been typical-older daughter forging ahead during gate changes; younger daughter lagging behind looking for the SkyCap and making her usual observational comments. Her brain to mouth filter has yet to mature, so I’m often both entertained and aghast at the statements she makes:
"Mom, why did they cancel our flight? Did they finally decide to clean those stinky planes?" "Mom, DELTA stands for Dumb Early Lines Taking Alottatime." "Mom, does that lady know her skirt is too short?" "Mom, that man is staring at that lady whose skirt is too short." "Ma’am, that man is staring at your skirt. You may want to wear a longer one next time."
BAHAHHAHAA….I could have crawled right into a suitcase then, but the lady was a lady, retrieved her trench coat from her bag and wore it the rest of the time we were in the security line.
So we skate through security again, and off to our first flight of the day, and into a plane that I swear I think is a wind-up. I hate getting on any plane that I’m taller than. We land in DC, looking out the windows for some kind of monument. The Potomac is right under us, so older daughter quickly looks out the other side of the aisle and spots the Washington Monument, and the dome of the Capitol Building. Having never been to DC., this was a cool moment for all of us. No camera on the crappy phone, so take my word for it that they were duly impressed.
We get of the plane and into a waiting BUS to be taken to the terminal. OOOO, buddy, we’re traveling in style now. LOL. Off, into the terminal and right to our gate, no problems. Well, one problem, we’re now sitting in the land of Oz as the people sitting around us spanned the spectrum of the gene pool. I kept younger daughter hooked up to her earplugs and Nintendo for this wait as it was truly a moment for her NOT to be talking.
I spied a 70ish something woman in a black cheerleader skirt, tight and I mean tight workout BRA, and lacey bobby socks; a man in full head to toe lime flavored duds-from his lime and black banded fedora all the way down to his lime loafers-he looked like a walking sherbet scoop; a small white man with dreads that were so long they trailed behind him, reminding me of the alien Will Smith clocks in "Independence Day"; a mom and her three daughters dressed in matching ruffled, floral outfits-they were all over 40, people. Are their mirrors broken or something? I watch the busy business man with no time to spare almost clock a feisty nana, who immediately breaks into the most rapid fire Italian I’ve ever heard. He stopped, apologized, and received a "nice boy" pat on the cheek. Now THAT’s entertainment, lemme tell you.
We touch down in West Palm where I’d hoped to be able to meet Todzilla and his lovely, Ms. Lisa, but with only 40 minutes to spare before my turnaround flight back to KY., I basically dropped the kids at the glass partition between scanned and unscanned passengers/pickups. I stood 4 ft. away from the in-laws, waving at them through the glass, yet if I took one more step over the imaginary line, TSA was gonna make me go back through security. If you’ve never flown out of PBI, you do not want that fate. Slow, rude, and it never fails, extra screening on the people in front of me. So I dodged that bullet and off to the cattle call that is SouthWest boarding.
I lucked out and picked a seat with a nice couple from St. Louis. We shared stories, read, and listened to the older couple behind us who really should stick to ground transportation. At one point my seatmates and I were so amused, we all coughed to cover the laughter. This woman, obviously pampered and petted on at home, thought the flight attendant was her very own personal assistant. Kudos to Amy the perky attendant on the West Palm-St. Louis commuter for not bitch slapping that customer right onto the wing. "Dear, could you tell the pilot to take off easy, I’m a bit under the weather." "Honey, could you tell me exactly when we will land, I’ve no time to waste today, and I’ll need to be the first one off the plane."; "Hello, you there…can you adjust this seatbelt to fit properly, it’s all loose and I just had a manicure."
OMG-I almost turned around on that one, but I waited…and I’m glad I did.
The flight attendant’s response was priceless-
"I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait for the instructions on the seatbelt, I can’t see yours."
And she walked away. WHOOOOOHOOOOOO!!!
This is when my seatmates and I lost it. For not only was the lady behind us demanding, she had the largest set of un-tethered mammary glands on the planet. That’s right, NO BRA on this woman who had to have been pushing 75, with that beach tan only gleaned from years of walking the shoreline-i.e., leathery; AND her lipstick was placed firmly on the OUTSIDE of her lip line-for extra emphasis, mind you. I swear, the older I get, the more I realize how crazy this world really is.
I made it home in one piece. Stay tuned for additional travel updates as I do this again on the 5th.
When it’s HOT, HOT, HOT...
Current mood: okay
Category: Sports
Finally got the baby all settled from a bad tummy fulla naners and was ready to watch the UK-GA game when Mother Nature decided she’d like to join in.
Damage to the GA Dome, the Omni, and its attached hotel, CNN Center, and the University of GA from a suspected and likely tornado. One minute we were watching ’Bama and Mississippi State, then the screen went black. When it came back, there were walls missing from the GA dome, the lighting scaffolding was still swaying, stuff still falling from the ceiling, and the crowds were noticeably thinner.
The UK-GA game postponed until tomorrow on the advisement of the National Weather Service. How’s that argument about "NO GLOBAL WARMING" looking now??
Holy hopping hotdogs!! Or other nice things to say when you want to curse like a rock star.
Current mood: determined
Category: Sports
Ladies and gentlemen, it's official-I've lost my everloving mind.
I've agreed to chair the concession stand committee for the parks and rec. girls youth softball program both my daughters are involved in. Holy hot dog, Hannah, I believe I've slipped over the edge of sanity with this one.
Not only did I have a rather heated disagreement with the current sitting board president last season, but I've made it clear how I feel about him personally in a public venue. I've been called "parents like you" by the past president in an email, meant to say that I'm one of those who gripe about things without offering a solution, or consider those who do take the time to volunteer their time as only useful to me when they do something I suggested. SO NOT TRUE.
I've given hours of time to this organization and several others in this community. I've been involved in the founding of a community organization that still exists today. I've co-organized 3 large community events, 2 of which still continue, and I've given money to help at last minute emergency funding problems. My main issue was that the softball board was not, and still is not running this as a business, thereby treating those girls who are involved as less deserving of help. They are making strides, but the real tell will be the first time a decision is made that is countermanded for no other reason than because it can be.
The boys baseball in this county is HUGE, yet they can only name 6 guys who have gone on to play in college or beyond. Softball can tout over 17 girls who have been offered full or partial scholarship offers from major and minor colleges. Several of whom hold regional and university records for their efforts. I'd love nothing more than those numbers to increase exponentially, but the only way to help that along is by the support of the community, not an easy task given that this is still very much a "good old boys" town. The previous mayor even stated in a face to face conversation with a softball mom, that "aw, those girls should just be learning how to run a house, not run bases." (paraphrased, as the real statement was even more asinine.)
I've a new house, new baby, Rocco in school full time with extreme amounts of homework, not to mention Brownies, Choir, etc. My blossoming beading business is taking a HUGE backseat to everything-hell, my office isn't even habitable yet. But, I've said yes to something I believe in. Something that deserves my time and attentions. So I'll pull up the flip-flop straps and make it work, make it profitable, and make it fun.
In the meantime, I could use some suggestions on concession stand eats, (besides the usual fare), tricks, tips or fundraising ideas that really rock. I'm sick to death of selling candles or candy to raise money-I'd like to get this organization flying with things that are new and different enough to attract lots of attention. Comment, message, link me to sites with ideas, anything.
I don't do things halfway, and this will be no exception.
I’d like to bitch slap my Domestic Goddess today...
Current mood: annoyed
Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes
Yet another snow day here in Central KY.
The older girls are going cabin fever crazy on me already, and the baby just wants to have her normal routine just remain, well, normal.
I've resigned myself to the chains of Domestic Goddessity, including the laundry and dishes-again. But I'd really love nothing better than to crawl back up in my big, fluffy, flannel sheeted bed and read a trashy novel the rest of the day.
My inner bed sloth is rearing its warm fuzzy sleepy head, trying its best to deter me from the stacks and piles of my life currently packed into the boxes that dominate almost each room of this wonderful new house.
The girls love the house, as they practically live in the basement now that we've set up a temporary entertainment station for them. Rocco loves it as he's got his own "pouty room"-complete with his flat screen, his laptop and wired for surround sound. The baby loves it as she sleeps so well in her own room, not having to listen to the snoring that resounds from my overweight, tired body.
I love it because it's home. We are all here, together, in a home we can grow in. Yet at times it's so large it feels isolating. With the girls downstairs in the basement, and Rocco downstairs in his office, and the baby asleep in her room, it's almost like I live here alone. It's weird. I'm not complaining about the space at all, it's just strange that with 5 people living within these walls the silence resonates at times.
The Domestic Goddess in me has moments of pure joy when this happens, as I can finally tackle something that's lingered, undone, and driving me insane with its mere presence. Boxes, boxes and more boxes of my life leer at me from the corners, poke at me from behind the couch, loom in shoulder high stacks in the basement, taunting me. So I unpack a little, put some things away. Over and over and over again. I've done laundry-no lie-every single day since we've moved in due to the volumes of stored clothing retrieved from the attic of my former home. Seems we won't be buying the baby ANY clothing after she hits size 2T. I shit you not, I think I could open my own children's clothing consignment store.
Every child's bedroom is ready for habitation with only a bed, a night table, a lamp and their very organized closets. Those who came over to help pack you KNOW what I'm talking about.
The kids' books, toys, and various flotsam will forever more live comfortably in the basement area designated for that only AFTER I've gone through it with a fine tooth and rid this house of all the extra toys.
I've already trashed bags and bags of stuffed animals, tiny little broken things that I couldn't even begin to identify, and stuff-just stuff that should have been gone long ago. It's crazy insane the amount of items we THINK we NEED to have a life. I'm chucking it at a record pace now. Snow days however, put a kink in the grab and toss in a big way and I have to restrain myself. It's bad enough that I have to black bag and hide the items I've deemed trash already. Rocco's caught on to it too, and we've done a tag team trash night hiding the stuff before the girls trudge through the garage on their way out to the vehicles for school.
I just look at each box now as a new "done" and try not to get overwhelmed with getting it all put away. It will happen and there will be joy in my heart when that bed sloth can really take a day to just be.
For now, the Domestic Goddess won, and it's taken me 9 hours to finish this blog to post today.
And oooo lookie, only 6 more hours until I can go to bed. A woman's work….ya know……
amused
accomplished
distractable
stoked
pleased
blessed
mellow
devious
intense
touched
okay
fascinated
determined
annoyed