We're Off To See The Wizard

I just stumbled across some older Halloween photos and I figured I'd blog about them before life got in the way (as it has a habit of doing). In 2007, my girls decided they wanted to be Dorothy and Glenda from the Wizard of Oz. My oldest was inspired by a dress her grandmother gave her which looked remarkably like Dorothy's.

Since that was taken care of, all she needed was sparkly shoes. In the books, the shoes are actually silver.  Should we make ours red or silver?  I debated this for a while and eventually decided to take the movie route and made them ruby slippers. Red just looks better. I checked out the sparkly red shoes at the stores, but they were too expensive. The girls had a pair of worn dress shoes I bought for 50 cents. They were falling apart, so I just used some glue and sprinkled on some red glitter. They looked fantastic.

 I made Toto using the adorable Scotty Dog tutorial at AllSorts. I actually used scraps of the black fabric left over from the suit my husband wore when we got married.  No particular reason for that.  It's just what I had in my bag of scraps.  The kids still play with that stuffed dog.

Glenda was super simple.  I let her pick her favorite fancy dress.  Then we made a crown out of cereal boxes, construction paper, foam stickers and glitter.  She grabbed a wand from the dress-up box and I added some ribbon.

Now their little brother was supposed to be Jack Skellington.  I bought the costume for him the year before, but it was too cold that year (which was unusual), so he wore it under his lion jacket and no one ever got to see it.  Besides, his daddy is the one who's the Nightmare Before Xmas fan and he was deployed during our son's first Halloween anyway.  So I planned to reuse the costume when my husband was around to enjoy it.  Unfortunately, in our usual fashion, we procrastinated on bringing the box down from the attic (and by, "We," I mean, "My husband," since I'm barely taller than a garden gnome and couldn't reach the attic door).  So on Halloween morning, I found the Jack costume was too small.  D'oh!*

Your mom dresses you like a dork.

After some quick thinking, I threw together a munchkin costume.  More specifically, he was a member of the Lollipop Guild (because I feared a regular old munchkin wouldn't be recognizable).  I used his dress shirt and a pair of shorts (we lived in the South at the time, so it was warm enough to go out in shorts).  I grabbed a torn pair of my daughters' tights (which I always kept "just in case," and which I always told myself I should just throw away).  I painted on red stripes (you can't see the tear because they're under the shorts) and topped them off with his brown soft-sole shoes.

His hair was really what made the costume.  I split it into three and added some gel.  His hair is naturally curly, so it was easy to shape into three curls.  Now, pardon me a minute while I stare at that photo and sob for the red-head that once was.  At nearly 6 now, my son's no longer a ginger, much to my dismay.  ::sob::

I scoured the house for something to use to create a lollipop.  The red round lid for the raisins looked the best, so I let the kids finish off the entire container of raisins that Halloween (4 years later, they STILL remember that part fondly).  I used white paint marker on it,  glued that to a craft stick, and added some ribbon.  Viola, instant adorable munchkin.  I think it took me 1/2 an hour to create the whole costume.

While trick-or-treating that night, only ONE person realized that their costumes coordinated (and I wanted to kiss that one woman when she recognized it).  :::sigh:::  I guess that was better than the year my twins went as "Monkey See" and "Monkey Do" (complete with the word "Do" and the letter C pinned to their monkey costumes) and someone asked, "Why do those mice have letters on them?")

*You would think I learned my lesson, but NOOOOO.  The following year, I would, once again, find ON HALLOWEEN that the costume I planned to use for my son was too small and I would, once again, find myself throwing together a last minute costume for the poor kid.  That', however, is another story for another day (or more precisely, another costume for another blog post).  

AKA

Mama's Losin' It has a cute video blog today about how the title of her blog came to be.

That got me thinking.  What would some good alternative titles be for my little corner of the interwebz?

Here's what I've come up with thus far.  Feel free to jump in and add your 2 cents.

I remember one friend of mine suggested, "Laughing at the Library," because we would live at the library if they let us.  I was only half-joking when I told friends that librarians are like Pokemon for my kids.  The last time my kids walked in to the children's library and saw a new librarian at the desk, my son turned to his sisters and said, "Look, there's a new one.  YES!"  My kids collect children's librarians.

A friend once had Weird Al and Kate Winslet's song (Yes they did), "I Need A Nap," as my ring tone for me because I use that phrase all too often.  So there's an option.

Here are some more:

There's Not Enough Coffee In the World

Lorelai Gilmore's quotation is oh so accurate, "Oh, I can't stop drinking the coffee. If I stop drinking coffee, I stop doing the standing and the walking and the words putting-into-sentence doing. " Yet it's a bit lengthy for a title, don't ya think?

Coffee NOW! (If you're not sensing a theme, you're not paying attention)

Sexually Deprived For Your Freedom

Oy Vey, That Boy!

Queen Of The Freaking Internet (this is a close second to my current title)

Yeah, They're All Mine and Yes, We Did That On Purpose


Children Aren't Meant to Come In Pairs


What Part Of "Jewish" Do You Not Understand?


1 Minute Apart (for all those who look at our twins and ask in a judgmental tone, "How close in age ARE they?")


My Dignity Was Delivered With the Placenta


Keebler Elf-sized (I'm tiny)


Yay Rum!  


Now, tell me, which one's your favorite?  What would you have named this blog?

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My One & Only(aka Arming the Drama Llama With Lightsabers)

Dear Blogosphere,

Let's think twice before using the word, "Only."  That word can be a vicious word.  It can cut things and people down.  It can be an attempt at minimizing.  

When you say, "It's only X," what you're saying (or at least what others are hearing) is, "X doesn't really matter."  

Military wives understand "Only," in a way no one else does.  They also actively campaign against it.  

When my husband was deployed for the first time, I mentioned to a civilian friend that he was scheduled to be gone six months (it was later extended).  She said, "Oh, that's not bad.  It's only six months.  My friend's brother was gone for a year."  I cringed and thought to myself, "Yes, it IS bad.  It sucks that her brother was gone for that long, but that suckage doesn't outweigh mine."  

During that deployment, at the base playgroup with my twin toddlers, another mom's husband was away for a month.  She started to vent to me and then stopped herself saying, "I shouldn't complain.  He's only gone for a month.  Yours has been gone for a long time."  

Military wives don't let military wives say, "Only."  I stopped her and told her a month sucked too.  Six months sucks.  Twelve months sucks.  This isn't a suckage contest.  We can all appreciate that they suck and bitch accordingly.  This isn't a contest.  There is no scale.  No one is weighing your suckage against mine.  

Luckily, early in that deployment, at the same playgroup, I had tried the exact same thing myself and learned my lesson.  Another woman's husband had been gone for a while and I started to complain.  I then apologized and said, "Your husband's been gone X months (I've long since forgotten).  Mine only left a month ago.  I shouldn't complain.  You have it much worse."  She stopped me and told me, "No.  Don't do that.  Deployments suck.  They all do no matter what."  

If something is difficult, it's difficult.  Don't "Only," it for someone else.  

Yes, yes, I hear your objection.  True, some folks are drama llama jockeys.  Everything is hugely dramatic to them even when it doesn't seem that way to others.  You get the urge to "Only," their constant drama.  "It's only a paper cut.  An ER visit really is unwarranted."  You know what?  Let them charge on ahead in their drive-by drama llamaing.  Your "Only," isn't a lasso.   Your "Only," isn't going to reign in their charging drama llama and calm it the hell down.  If anything, it'll give their drama llama a lightsaber with which to fight you (and I hear llamas are awesome with lightsabers).  It'll also give the dramatic one more fodder for the drama and everyone knows the drama llama does so love fodder (it's delicious with a nice white wine sauce).  

So, before you tell someone, "It's only..." think twice.  Picture a dramatic llama wielding a lightsaber and hopefully, you'll be laughing too hard to continue on with that thought.  

Remember, every time you use, "Only," a drama llama gets a lightsaber.  

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The Many Adventures Of A Stuffed Camel Named Bob(and the little girl who loves him)

Through Project Nursery, I found the most amazing website which inspired me to write this blog post.  Through their Custom Toy Portrait giveaway, I found First Friend Portraits.  First Friend Portraits makes custom portraits of kids' toys.

I cannot tell you how very much I love this idea.  I absolutely, positively, without a doubt, must have a portrait of Bob the camel.

We have oh so many toy stories of our own that we could share.  This has inspired me to share a few.

Let's start with Bobby.

Bobby is a stuffed camel.  His full name is Bob Notacat.  He, along with his sister Leafa Borrower, a giraffe, was a gift from daddy.

Here's a little back story:

While daddy was deployed, every night, we said the Mitzpah and the Sh'ma.  In between those, one night, our then 4-year-old said this prayer.  She had been more than a wee bit obsessed with camels since daddy was in the desert.

When the prayer started, I  thought it was so profound.  When a camel stormed into the prayer, it was all I could do to keep from cracking up.

Although it was my husband's second deployment to the Middle East, it was far more difficult for the twins than the first one (when they were only toddlers) had been.  They missed their daddy horribly.  When I relayed that to him, he decided to send them stuffed toys to comfort them in his absence.  Inspired by my long-term love affair with an aging orange wonder (which is another post for another day), he decided to send them stuffed animals in the hopes that those toys would become for them the comfort that Mustardseed had always been for me.

Giraffe overload w/daddy.  2 yrs old 

For L, the obvious choice was a stuffed giraffe.  She loves giraffes.  Our zoo visits absolutely always take us to the giraffes, many of whom, L knows by name.  So daddy sent her a stuffed giraffe that she named Leafa because giraffes eat leaves.  Her middle name is Borrowa because she doesn't ever take anything, since stealing is wrong.  She just borrows things.  So says my eldest.


It was a bit trickier to decide what to get her sister, though.  Inspired by the child's latest prayer, he opted for a camel and our lives have never been the same.

E. named her new fuzzy Bactrian wonder Bob.  Why?  We may never know, but he has been Bob and Bobby ever since.  His middle name is Notacat because the child kept arguing with me that she was going to name him Cat.  "He's not a cat," I told her.  So she proved me right.

Bobby isn't just any ordinary camel.  He's famous.  When they were in kindergarten, the girls each wrote stories for a contest.  She wrote and illustrated a story about how Bobby comforted her when her daddy was deployed.  She didn't win, but I was so impressed with her her tale.

I scanned the illustrations and copied the text to create a few 5x7 photo books for her of Bobby's deployment adventures.  It was one of the first stories she could read on her own and she's read it to everyone who would hold still long enough to listen.  She even dropped off a copy of her book at our local library.  

She'll be 9 soon.  I know puberty isn't far away.  She's not far from those terrifying teenage years and leaving "baby" things behind.  Yet again, she's separated from her daddy.  Bob has been a part of our family for five years now.  He has watched E cry for her daddy more often in those 5 years than most children are ever separated from their parents their entire lives.  Bobby is worn and faded and has lost most of his filling, yet, every night, you can find him in E's bed, often clutched in her arms.  

Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness

I've had a great couple of weeks. I've been very upbeat and positive.  I've played wack-a-mole with the Drama Llama and won.  I've enjoyed the company of great friends.  I've had an endless stream of potential buyers in the house.  True, sleep and I aren't BFF's lately, but I've still been in great spirits.  I realize how blessed I am and I've been pretty happy.

Out of absolutely nowhere tonight, I found myself having another one of those nights.  It's not even a whole night, just a sudden heavy heart in the past few minutes.

Miss the beard, but he's still hot.

I miss my husband.  It's not just the usual, "Wish you were here," type missing.  It's the, "I need you beside me RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW," type which should really be accentuated by ridiculous amounts of fierce punctuation.

Sometimes, I can pinpoint something specific that causes this longing;  a song, a phone conversation, seeing a sweet couple, an old photograph.  Tonight is not one of those times.  I have no idea where this came from.  It gave no warning.    Suddenly, out of nowhere, I had the overwhelming urge to be in my husband's arms.

I'm trying to stay positive.  I can't acknowledge this longing without realizing how blessed I am to have him in my life.  I know we won't be apart forever.  He's NOT in a combat zone this time.  Sylvr lynings, I haz dem in spades.

Still, I miss him and that's both wonderful and awful all at once.

Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling into at night. I miss you like hell.-Edna St. Vincent Millay

UPDATE (most likely a totally useless one, but I'm sharing it anyway) :

My husband and I met over an X-filed themed Rolling Stone cover in 1997 (we were both big X-philes, although I'm probably the only one of us who would willingly use that phrase and do so without rolling eyes).  While I still have the magazine (packed away now), we could never remember when exactly that was.  Turns out, the date on that issue is February 20, 1997.  So exactly 14 years ago.

The (far too many) steps to prepping a house for sale

Our house is back on the market.  After a period with no potential buyers, we took the house off the market in December.  We knew we wanted a new agent (ours was perfectly lovely and a very nice person, but she simply wasn't aggressive enough), her contract was up, plus house traffic apparently slows way down in December.  

It went back up with a new agent (someone my husband worked with when they were both in the military) earlier this week.  

For those who haven't sold a house or who haven't sold a house while children were living there, or who haven't sold a house with children who are homeschooled (and therefore, the parents get absolutely no kid-free time to prepare), or those who haven't sold a house with homeschooled children always underfoot and a spouse 2000 miles away; let me tell ya, it's rough. 

Among the list of things to do to prepare to sell a house:

1. Repack existing boxes (stashed in the biggest kids' room).
2. Open children's closets and see an endless array of clothing and accessories strewn about the floor.  
3. Scream.
4. Remove endless amounts of clothing from children who insisted on leaving it lying all over the freaking floor.
5. Remove all socks from those same children for the same reason (yes, my kids are currently sock-less in Winter.  They deal).
6. Remove all but four pairs of shoes from said children.
7. When said children leave one of those four pairs of shoes lying in the middle of their floor AGAIN, remove yet another pair of shoes. 
8. Look under the big girls' bed.  
9. Repeat step 3. 
10. Move the repacked boxes (which now also contain much of what was stashed under that bed) to storage (which, if you're lucky, a dear sweet friend will let you use her garage for and you will be forever indebted).
11. Call new agent and set a date to meet to sign paperwork and take pictures of the property.
12. When one of the children gets sick, cancel said appointment.
13. Repeat step 11.
14. Step 12 may also need to be repeated depending on the number of children and the season.
15. Pack more boxes.  
16. When you think you're done, look around again and revisit step 15.
17. Repeat step 15 more times than you think humanly possible.
18. Just as that dear sweet wonderful friend is about to show up to help you move more boxes, find even MORE  things to throw in boxes.  These things will most likely be stored WAY up high.  You only truly understand the frustration of this step if you are roughly the size of the Keebler Elf.
19. Repeat step 15.   
20. Profusely thank said friend.  It's only proper if you offer to bow down in homage.  
21. Open cabinets and sort through the things the kids have hidden there and forgotten all about.
22. Clean up anything fragile that the kids stashed precariously in the cabinet so that it fell and broke when you tried to rearrange said cabinet.
23. Replace the caulking on the bathtub.
24. Curse.
25. In an attempt to clear out the coat closet, sort through the mess of coats the kids have tossed on the floor (despite the many empty hangers hanging within their reach).
26. Find a can of interior paint knocked on its side when those children threw those coats.
27. When you struggle to put the can upright, discover a 1 foot wide and about 1/2 an inch mostly hardened pool of WHITE interior paint on your dark hardwood floor.
28. Repeat steps 3 and 24.
29. Text/call the spouse with threats to sell the children on Ebay.
30. Scrape up the paint as best you can.   Beware, this is very messy.  Some will be left behind.
31. Cry. 
32. Vacuum.
33. Spend an entire week clearing out the laundry room that no one has sorted through in nine years.
34. Shout with glee when you find the alcohol you sealed up in a box and stashed back there for Pesach (Passover).
35. You just found tequila amid the hell that is house prep.  Do I REALLY need to tell you what to do next?
36. Now that you have more space in the laundry room, use it to stash the kitchen appliances before pictures are taken (You can wait until you sober up from Step 35 or you can do it while buzzed.  It's entirely up to you).
37. Hide vacuum in the laundry room.
38. Clean kitchen counters.  
39. Clean stove.  
40. Drag vacuum back out and repeat step 32 in the kitchen where all the crumbs have now collected from the counter and stove top cleanings.
41. Move any furniture around to desired placement.
42. At least one piece of furniture will break upon step 41.  When that happens, repeat any combination of steps 3, 24 and/or 31.  
43. a. Mop kitchen floor or  b. have child mop kitchen floor.  If b., repeat 43 yourself after.
44. Clear off the weeks of paperwork that have gathered on the dining room table (and by, "Clear off," I mean stash them on a chair where no one can see).  
45. Have child put table cloth on.
46. In an attempt to adjust said table cloth and find the child simply threw it on over a mountain of crumbs.  
47. Repeat step 24.
48. Remove said table cloth.
49. Hand child a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser.
50. Repeat step 45.
51. Find the baby destroying something you had already prepared.
52. See steps 3, 24, 31 and perhaps 32 if necessary.
53. Veg out on Facebook for a while.
54. COFFEE!  
55. Repeat any combination of these steps.
56. Toss everything left in a box and hide it under the desk.  
57. Take a deep breath.  You're done 15 minutes before said agent is set to arrive. 

While completing this list, you should also stop often to text the spouse to ask, "WTF do you want me to do with this ('This' should typically refer to CD's, games, video game-themed magazines from the late 90s, boxes and/or electrical cords--none of which have been used in years)?"  You should also include numerous occasions of preparing food.

And yes, this list is based on actual events.  Any resemblance to people or situations is purely purposeful.

"Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling into at night. I miss you like hell." Edna St. Vincent Millay

My son is currently screaming and crying in his bedroom.  Why?  On the surface, it's because his flashlight doesn't work.  What it's really about, though, is that daddy is gone again.

This past weekend, when the husband was here, the kids had a great time and instantly bonded with him again.  I turned to him at one point and said, "This is going to be awful when you leave."

Sure enough, Monday night, I wound up with the two weest of our wee ones screaming in my lap and the bigger pair doing their best emo teen impressions.

I've done this oh so many times.  I know how this works.  I know my kids and I know it's going to suck.

At one point this weekend, I turned to my husband and asked, "When do I get to go away so you can see what this is like?"

I don't actually want to be away from the kids (although a night out would be heavenly).  I know that's awful.  My husband left Active Duty because changes in his career field meant he would be away from the family far too much.  I just want some equality in this parenting situation.

When we speak on the phone, I'll relay something the kids have done (because they miss daddy) and my husband will ask, "Why the hell did he/she do that?"  Sometimes he'll tell me, "But that doesn't make any sense."  It, however, makes perfect sense when you're a kid and you miss your daddy.  It also makes sense to a parent who has been through this so very many times.

I am not at all surprised by the fact that I needed to take a break from writing this post to hold a little boy as he cried.  I was heartbroken, but not surprised when the youngest headed to my bedroom yesterday morning and declared, "I go get daddy."  As we left the airport in the dark early Monday morning, I had to listen closely to hear the oldest sniffling in the back seat, but I heard it.

I don't want my kids to ache for a parent they love who can't be here.  I don't want to be away from them myself.  I just wish the husband could understand.  I wish he would know what this was like (for me and the kids).  I wish that I didn't have to be the only one rocking screaming children and wiping away tears.

"One can pay back the loan of gold, but one dies forever in debt to those who are kind." Malayan Proverb

With the impending move, I've been thinking quite a bit about all those people here and all they have done for us. I consider many of them friends. They have gone above and beyond for my family and me.

There are those who have always been near and dear to me. They range from those I knew from the on-base playgroup when our girls were tiny (and who have moved around so much that I've long since lost touch with most of them) to our friends at shul who we're always happy to sit beside during services to those wonderful friends who not only waited with me at the airport when my husband returned from deployments, but were even willing to film the whole teary event, so that I could look back on it years later and still get teary.

Then there are those who only touched my life briefly, but did so in such a profound way that I will never be the same.

I was already thinking of one such person when I saw this article: Heartfelt thanks go to blood donors from the people they saved.

E in the NICU at 3 weeks old.

Our smallest baby had a blood transfusion in the NICU. We wanted to donate our own blood, but there wasn't enough time. So our teeny tiny baby received the blood of some wonderful person who donated. We know we can never find that donor, but somewhere out there in Oklahoma, a hero walks around--a hero who helped us keep the baby I feared we might lose. Yet I'm fairly certain that person has absolutely no idea what a miracle he/she has helped create.

The first time I held L.

When I was in the hospital, there was one fantastic L&D nurse I'll never forget.  She's been on my mind lately. The awful words featured on My OB Said What made me stop and think of the wonderful nurse I had who was the exact opposite of what I read there. I would do anything to properly thank her, but I don't even know who she is.

I know she worked at Integris Baptist in May of 2002. I believe her name was either Casey or Cassie. She had dark brown hair which she wore pulled back in a pony tail. She wore Hello Kitty scrubs. She had a soft spot for moms of preemies.  So, when other nurses relayed that my doctor ordered me confined to my bed (which meant no visiting my babies in the NICU), Cassie/Casey said, "Then we'll wheel her bed down there." She then whispered to me, "Don't worry. You'll see your babies one way or another."  Because of her, I did.  She had a preemie herself.  I may be mistaken because much of that time is a blur, but I  remember her telling me she had a son born at 27 weeks. She understood and she cared.

In the midst of a horrible experience and surrounded by some who didn't seem to care or even understand (my OB was miffed when she came to see me and I was in the NICU with the babies rather than in my room so that I could make her job easier), that nurse sincerely wanted to help and she did in more ways then she'll ever know.

I never got to properly thank her. Before we leave, I would love the chance to do just that and introduce her to the amazing 8-year-olds she helped me get to know as babies.

On their 8th birthday

ETA: You can read more about their early arrival on my post for Prematurity Awareness Day.  

For Sale

Photo by julia.picturetaker via Flickr.

For Sale:

Hurry and scoop up your 1300+ square feet of happiness.

Beautiful home in a nice neighborhood. It's not Edmond. It's not Norman. But hey, it's nice enough. Excellent home for a young family.

Corner lot means a large yard with plenty of room for children to play. Great for entertaining on summer evenings. This yard has been home to pools, swing sets, barbecues, parties, slides, handstand competitions, and bike races. Its potential is limit-less. This enchanted outdoor area possesses the magical powers which helped not one, but two children learn to ride without training wheels. Try your luck and see what magic this yard holds for YOU.

This back yard is famous. It was featured both on CNN and Washington College Magazine. CNN featured this yard (via a photograph taken in it) on the front page of their website as part of their "Coming Home" special report in honor of Memorial Day 2006. The yard was featured in a different photograph published in the Spring 2004 Washington College Magazine. No other yard in Oklahoma can claim these honors.

Formal dining room where countless family dinners have been eaten and an endless stream of crafts have been created.

1 bathroom which may seem like enough when that family is just a gleam in your eye, but will quickly become a bit of a nuisance. It's only a slight one, though. Because, as the last inhabitants and their four children have proven, it can be done and no one is going to explode RIGHT THIS MINUTE no matter how much the little ones may bounce up and down when it's already occupied.

Spacious playroom, fabulous for impromptu dance parties. Carpeting throughout this area to best cushion children and their attempts at gymnastics. In this room, you'll find the memory of three babies' first steps. This is the room where the military wife alone with only her twin babies first learned of the war in Iraq. As an added (happier) bonus, the walls of this room still contain the laughter of that same wife when she lost her ever-loving mind and decided to try hula hooping on the Wii Fit at 9 months pregnant.

Off the playroom is, what should have been the master bedroom, but instead is currently a huge office.  Are you a writer?  Then this office is calling your name.  This office is where one of the former inhabitants wrote a number of published parenting articles along with her first novel and where the other inhabitant wrote a constant stream of critically acclaimed screen plays and graphic novels for which he won some local fame.  If the writing bug alludes you, this office could still serve you well.  Do you need a home office?  Well, here ya go.  Do you just like the sound of referring to, "My office?"  Then this house has you covered.  

The front door opens to a Great Room with gorgeous hardwood floors. This makes an excellent formal living room as you can keep kids' toys (and messes) relegated to the back playroom. The layout of this fabulous home allows you to convince your friends and random people determined to sell you things (like Sonic cards, cookies, and/or Jesus) that you are actually a far better housekeeper than you might actually be.

The Great Room also opens to the kitchen. Storage space in this kitchen was doubled in 2003 with the addition of extra cabinets and counters. You will never be without a place to store food or kitchen containers in here. This kitchen boasts a breakfast nook. If you use it as such, the current owners request that you send pictures because that's what they always intended to do, but never did. High cabinets means you'll always have a place to hide snacks from the children (or your short spouse).

All major kitchen appliances are included. With your purchase, you'll receive a fridge, oven and dish washer. All of which, have been meticulously scrubbed and cleaned every year for Pesach. 

Just off the kitchen is a small laundry room. More than comfortably fits a washer and dryer and either a deep freeze or large utility shelf. The last owners had a freezer. Current owners have a large metal utility shelf. See how creative you can be with the space. Can you top their ideas? Do you want to put up a rock climbing wall? Snap this beauty up and install the most beautiful climbing wall you've ever seen.

4 bedrooms filled to the brim with memories. In the master bedroom, a baby was born. In one of the front bedrooms, a baby boy took his first steps. In the other front bedroom, twin girls spent many nights reading the Harry Potter series, saying prayers for their daddy while he was deployed and writing letters to friends. The large back bedroom works well as either a master bedroom or an office (see above). Its proximity to the playroom allows for easy surveillance of the children playing in there. It's distance from the rest of the house allows for peace and quiet even when children are arguing with each other elsewhere (i.e. in their bedrooms over who wears the blue sweater or in the kitchen over who gets to eat the last of the Cheerios).

Make an appointment today to see this dazzling jewel of a home.

"Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts."--Oliver Wendell Holmes