The Goat Rodeo entourage got a little bigger

Well, my dear sweet readers, you met "Dobby Dog" in a previous post.  He's a very protective, high strung, ankle-craving, not at all social 5-year-old Chihuahua.

That dog FLIPS OUT when anyone comes into or out of our house (or even approaches our home from a 5 block radius).  He's a sweetheart, but he's not that bright.  He failed puppy class because the only behavior he learned there was to CLIMB UP MY SHOULDERS and perch there shaking because he was so terrified of the other dogs.  An owner of a (gigantic) dog in the class laughed while my dog scaled my shoulder and said, "That's not a dog.  That's a squirrel."  And that's how the dog got one of his middle names (his full name is Chiawoohaha Hurley Squirrel).  

Chi aka "Dobby dog" on his hind legs staring at the neighbors
because my kids dared to leave the house and he seems to feel he is single-handedly responsible for their safety.

He was sweet (to us and us alone.  Everyone else who exists in the world is a deadly predator in his mind), but not that bright to begin with.  It appears our 5 lb, barking, shaking wonder canine left what little brains he had somewhere along the way during the move.  I suspect that, scattered along rest stops between there and here I'll bet you can find the last of this dog's brain cells.

Upon arrival at this house, he decided to try to play leap frog  and red rover with the cats who have claws and very little patience.  Being the dog of little brains that he is, he didn't get the message.  He did, however, get attacked again and again and again.

We thought, perhaps, a friend would help.  After taking into account all his quirks and special needs, we came up with a list of things we wanted in a new dog and headed to the shelter.  Then we headed to the next shelter.  And the next.  After shelter-hopping for a while, we found a very sweet 4-year-old female chihuahua this past weekend.  She was spayed yesterday and we picked her up yesterday evening.

We discussed a long list of possible names (all Harry Potter-related, of course) and settled on one.

And so, I would like to introduce:  Mischief-Managed

Mischief-Managed

Note that, in the background, you can see Peek-a-booDuck, one of our cats, who tells me she will never forgive us for bringing another dog into this house.

Am I the only one who gets the urge to adopt ANOTHER dog just so we can name it I-Solemnly-Swear-I-Am-Up-To-No-Good?

Decorating: You Can Go Your Own Way (Wordless Wednesday)

Click to enlarge.
Of course, in true Oy Vey That Boy fashion, he had to be in the picture, even if he was already in jammies.

The corner before (with the last owner's stuff)

I got hooked on Pinterest months before we moved.  So, I had more than enough time to collect decorating inspiration for the new place which existed only in our dreams.

I created an "Oy Vey That Boy" folder full of inspiration for my son's room.  After toying with super heros, monsters, dogs, and other animals, I found this inspiration.  That did it.  I LOVE that sentiment and I love the colors and shapes of maps.  I love the sentimentality of maps from our past just as much as I love the potential contained when we grip a map to a place we've never been.  I showed my son some of the map ideas I found and he loved them.  I knew I wanted to wallpaper one of his (dreary brown) walls with maps (I've actually wallpapered 3 walls).  I found a great collection of websites where I could request maps and I did.

During the actual move, whenever we stopped, I searched for maps.  If I found some freebies, I grabbed two or three.

When we arrived here at the new house, we found our map collection was woefully inadequate.  "What if we ask people to send us maps from where they live," my son asked.  And so we did.  Through Facebook, I asked friends to send maps from their home state, their current town, countries they visited, their favorite amusement park, etc.  Some did just that.

For those maps we didn't get, Tour Guide Google helped.  I found pdf files of maps from zoos that were near and dear to us.  I found links to tourism departments for states/countries where our friends and family live and requested those.  I was able to search through gorgeous vintage maps from places not so near, but very dear to us.

In this past month, my son has received more mail than he has in all his 5 and 1/2 years combined.  Friends and family addressed their maps to him.  I purposely requested maps in his name from the tourism departments.  He LOVED it.

Just last week, I found we had collected enough maps to begin the project.  Initially, I used wallpaper adhesive to attach the maps to the wall.  I started with some of the larger ones, and filled in with smaller ones.  I found many maps have smaller maps of various areas on the back of the large map.  So having two or three copies came in VERY handy.

I purposely tried to position important maps at what will be his eye level when in bed.  So there, you'll find a map of the state where he was born, a small map of the town where we last lived, a map of Israel, a map the kids used in a school project about our heritage (yes, it's the actual map from their display.  I found it during the move and took it apart) and a map of his favorite zoo.  Our change of address cards have a map background and one of those is up there too at eye level.

Great Grandpa's St. Louis map

He has the neatest collection of maps.  There are maps sent by friends from their home states.  There's a giant world map that used to hang in his grandmother's office.  There's an old St. Louis map that once belonged to his great grandfather.  There are gorgeous maps I found from the Graphics Fairy.  When I came across a map of the route of the British Royal Wedding, I had to grab that and put it up.  There are 21 year-old maps from DisneyLand (the last time I was there).  There are maps from all the places dh and I have lived.  I came across a few cool maps in magazines and saved them.  They're up there too.

Over the window sill

Oh yes, it's Hogwarts.

Royal Wedding procession map

Neat map I tore out of the last Woman's Day magazine.
You can tell I couldn't get it exactly right.  Note the great state of Tes. 

Before we moved, a friend gave us a whole host of toys for the ride (which helped save my sanity).  Among them was this puzzle along with that note attached.  I damn-near giggled with delight because I already knew I wanted to go with the map theme.  I purposely saved the note.  I figure we'll put this together, seal it, hang it up and keep the note with it on the wall.





The thrift store fairies worked their magic a few weeks ago.  I saw this super cool puzzle at the thrift store.  I adored the colors and the fact that, HELLLLLOOO, it's a MAP, but I worried it wouldn't all be there.  Opening it up revealed that it's still sealed in the bag.  This is actually a personalized puzzle someone purchased this past Xmas for a family member (the receipt was still in the box).  You can have a map made of any address.  Apparently, the recipient didn't like it, but I sure did.  By that point, though, I had a bunch of maps and figured I didn't need any more.  We left without buying it, but that entire weekend, I was mad at myself for doing that.  When we returned the following week, not only did I find it again, but it was half price, so I got this for a whopping 98 cents.  I will not ignore the thrift store fates when they damn-near toss this into my hands.  I bought it that time.

It's still a work in progress.  My mother recently grabbed a magnetic knife rack at Ikea which I'll put up in his room to hold his cars.  She also grabbed some spice racks that I'll paint and put up to hold his books (his baby sister will get some too).  His sister's old Finding Nemo desk will be covered in maps (just the Nemo portions.  I'm actually leaving the blue and orange because I think they'll work well with the map colors) and moved into his room.  You can see in that shot that he's still in a toddler bed.  We need to get him a new twin bed and pass that down to his baby sister.  I have an old scratched up dining room chair that I want to paint, recover and put in his room.  If you look through the Oy Vey That Boy folder, you'll see some of the other ideas I'm considering for his room.  Right now, one large wall is still brown.  I'm not going to cover that, but I'm strongly considering painting it turquoise.

Oh and did you notice the parachuting monkey between the windows?  That was $1.99 find at Michael's.  They have wall stickers on clearance and I had to grab that.  It was too stinking cute.  Nothing completes a travel-themed room like a parachuting monkey.  ;-)

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Map to Your Heart Challenge in the Moxie Fab World

Wordless Wednesday

Metamorphosis Monday

Wordless Wednesday: File Under "Squee"

I snapped this picture of our youngest this past weekend (on our front porch) while we were on our way out furniture hunting. Oh the cuteness! It's almost enough to make the fact that we STILL don't have couches bearable. But, alas, cuteness doesn't provide you with a place to sit.

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Wordless Wednesday

Clear your calendar

We've been unpacking in fits and spurts.  Initially, we went at it at full force, barreling through boxes at break-necking speeds*.  Lately, though, we'll empty a box here or we'll open two or three in an attempt to find something specific.

The other night, I was on a  quest for the husband's military medical records (which were in his black "Police" bag in the sitting room of the old house.  Why the movers didn't actually put all the things from the sitting room in boxes labeled, "Sitting Room," is beyond me.  Instead, they did that with a few boxes and then shoved things from other rooms in other boxes so that we have to play detective to find damn-near anything).  I never did find those records, but I did find an unopened roll of wall paper, swords (my husband collects them), a library book FROM OKLAHOMA (thanks, kids), tons and tons and tons of hangers, four phone books (For a state 2000 miles away.  Thanks, movers), and my calendar.

I always have a Jewish calendar (the Jewish calendar isn't anchored to the secular one, so I need it to know when holidays fall on the secular one).  This year, however, my mother bought went a wee bit crazy and bought us all (secular) calendars for Chanukah.  So now I have one of those fancy "Busy mom" type calendars.  What it lacks in Hebrew, it makes up for in a nifty pen attached to the top of the calendar (which the movers appear to have lost).

According to the calendar, our life ceased to exist after May 16th, moving day.  We've only been here a few weeks, but it's already a whole other world.  I stared at that calendar as though it was frozen in another time.  There are doctor appointments on there from doctors we will never see again.  The last Girl Scout meeting is there.  Oh how I miss those girls and their moms!  The very last birthday we ever celebrated in that house is there.  We moved into that house just 2 weeks before our girls were born.  So it was fitting that we left just after their birthday.  There was that last minute trip with friends to a local attraction that I always wanted to visit, but never did until that day (and had a blast).  I completely forgot that our family was reunited on Friday the 13th.  See the early family services labeled there that day?  Well, we came home from services and found my husband home after 8 months apart during this move.  After years of deployments and training and combat zones and civilian job training, it's over.  On that day, we celebrated shabbat with friends and we got our family back.

I looked at the calendar for a while.  It was late.  The kids were in bed.  The husband was at work.  The house was quiet.  I stared at May and remembered.  Then, with some reluctance, I flipped the page to June, completely blank and hung it up.   Moving right along.




*Either an exaggeration or wishful thinking.  Take your pick.

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"Strangers are exciting. Their mystery never ends, but there's nothing like looking at your own history in the faces of your friends."-Ani DiFranco

Our move has gone very well.  We made the drive quicker than expected without any loss of life or limb (or sanity).  We moved into the house without a hitch.  The movers delivered all our items in one piece (for the most part).  Our neighbors are very nice.  The kids made instant friends.  I'm finding my way around the area a bit.  I like the house.  Painting is taking longer than I'd like, but we're getting there.

My only problem has been friends.  We've met some wonderful people out here including a few I'm sure will become great friends in time.  Still, everyone is busy with their own lives, so I haven't been able to spend real time with any of them.

Everything around here reminds me of the friends I left behind.  I unpack boxes given to me by friends.  I unpack the dragonfly yard ornament one friend gave me before she moved.  My husband sees a huge box from the attic and asks, "How the hell did you get that down," to which I reply, "I didn't.  I, however, have awesome friends who did."  I miss them.  I get the urge to call someone up to go thrift store shopping or to ask who wants to go to the zoo with us.  Then I remember that, #1.  I don't know where the thrift stores are, #2.  I have no one to go with me, #3.  We don't have a zoo here.  #4. The friends who would have gone with me live in another state.

Pardon me while I pout.  (foot stomp, hands on hips) I miss my friends.

An open letter to the former owners: WTF?

Dear Former Owners,

Why?  Please explain to me the thought process that went into your color choices for the humble abode which is now ours?  Cranberry red?  Really?  Why?  And why in the world is one wall in the front room that monstrosity of red while the other two are puke green (I swear that really must be the official name of the paint)?

What is the name of the demon who possessed you to paint the ENTIRE DINING ROOM in that awful dark red?  I would like to send him a firmly worded letter (full of expletives).  Nothing says, "Let's enjoy this delicious dinner together with our lovely family" quite like walls that look as though they're drenched in blood.

SIX FREAKING COATS OF PAINT is what it took to cover just one of those red walls (including 2 coats of primer).

This entire house has me wandering around asking, "What were they thinking?"  So please, do tell, what WERE you thinking?

Moose?  Really?  Why?

I want a 2 page essay explaining the motivation behind these firmly attached horrors.

Please explain your love affair of the ugliest shades of green and peach.  It is not 1987.  CUT THAT OUT.

Baffled,
the New Owners
who will be painting for the next three months to cover these horrid colors

P.S.  Our sincerest thanks for taking that awful ceiling fan with antlers with you.

ETA:
The infamous antler fan (at least a portion of it) at the top of this photograph.

Please note: don't blame me for the furniture or colors.  Those are all the fault of the former owners.

It was actually far worse than it appears in this shot.  There were even MORE antlers than you can see in this shot and there was a large log replica at the base against the ceiling.   Um...ah...no!  

Wordless (it's still) Wednesday: My New Home

We gathered up the goat rodeo, made the 2000 mile drive and are now in our new home.  

Our youngest took to this place instantly.  When we stepped out of the car, she looked up at the house and announced with certainty, "Dat my new home."  

Then, while enjoying one empty (and horribly colored) room (colors will be livable in the near future), she announced, "Dis my new home.  I spin."  And so she did.  

Apparently, the proper way to celebrate the purchase of a new house is with spinning.  Who knew?  Obviously, the 2-year-old did.  

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Wordless Wednesday

One is the loneliest number

One day left in our house, that's all we had.  Tomorrow, we close and leave for Washington.  

This weekend, I got my husband back just in time to leave my friends.  

We've had to say our sad goodbyes to the places and people we love.  

Today, as we drove, I found myself taking a walk down memory lane.  I remembered specific events we celebrated at restaurants, parks and houses that we passed.  

I'm ready to turn this house over to a new young couple.  I'm ready to leave the state and head West.  I will never, however, be ready to leave the people here I love.  I've been absolutely amazed at how much our friends have helped and cared for us during the house selling and moving.  I HATE that I have to leave them.  

One of my daughters' best friends wrote them a letter about how much she would miss them.  This made me teary and I think sums it up nicely.

Lehit ra'ot. Lehit ra'ot. Shalom, chaverim! Shalom!

Shalom chaverim, shalom chaverim,

Shalom, shalom.

Lehitraot lehitraot

shalom, shalom.

This is the park where my youngest celebrated her first birthday.  

This is the park where my twins celebrated their 8th birthday.

This is the park where the local branch of the March of Dimes holds their March for Babies every year. This year's walk here is 2 days after we close on our new house.  It will be the first walk we've missed since 2004.  

This is the park where my kids have met friends for play dates.  

This is the park with my kids' favorite splash pad.  

That tire swing to the right is where I got my favorite shot of my son and husband playing.  

Towards the center, is the covered slide my youngest loved riding down with her 6-year-old friend (who insists on being at the baby's side any time she's around).  

That ditch right there in front is the same one that damn-near made my heart stop every time the kids got too close.

That bench in the center is where I sat and chatted with friends while our kids played.  

To the right, not shown in the photo, is the pavilion where my daughters' had their end of the school year Girl Scout party today.  

In a quiet moment, I looked over at the empty tire swing.  I remembered my son playing there with his father.  I remembered my brother pushing my kids, his son and some friends on there at the baby's first birthday party.  I remembered the girls giggling with one of their best friends as another friend spun them quickly.  

This place is haunted with happy memories of friends.  Everywhere we turn, we're reminded of playing, talking, sliding, hiding and laughing with some of our favorite people. 

I didn't want to leave the park.  As the rain started, everyone else filed out.  I sent the kids to say, "Good bye," to their friends, some for the last time.  I stayed behind and looked around.  The immensity of leaving these memories, these places, these people behind hit me hard.  

Good bye, my friends.  Good Bye, my friends.

Goodbye/Peace.  Good bye/Peace.

Until we meet again.  Until we meet again.

Good bye, Peace.  

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Wordless Wednesday

Make New Friends and Keep the OldOne Is Silver And the Other Gold

This post has been brewing in my mind for months.  I can never get it to stay on one straight trajectory, though.  I wanted to tackle the topic in this post, but then it took a walk through a completely different part of my brain.

So let's try this again.

I'll write a separate post about my kids and their friends.  That has been the biggest focus of our lives (and my mind) lately.  I'm doing my best to put all my stuff on hold so that my kids (most especially my oldest who are very much smack dab in the middle of the "Best friends" mindset) can spend as much time as possible with their very best friends.  That, however, is another post for another day.

Instead, I'll focus on my reaction and my friends.

Today, I drove through a part of town where some friends used to live when our kids were small.  I passed the restaurants were one friend and I often lined up our girls side-by-side in high chairs.  Just a few blocks from there, I passed the street where another friend once lived and remembered her son's second birthday, where my oldests (just shy of 2 at the time) were introduced to karaoke.  All those friends, while still in state, have long since moved away from that neighborhood.

I won't have those moments when I move.  I won't have those friends who sat alongside me on the park bench nursing our oldest babies.  There won't be anyone who knew my kids when they were smaller.  There will be no one who has any shared experiences with me at all.

Here, I venture out to Target and run into a friend I haven't seen in years, one who attended the same "Baby Basics" class with me when we were pregnant the first time.  When my big two ask who she is, I say, "You and her son played in playgroup together when you were babies."  I won't be able to say that about anyone in Washington.

My kids (and I) want to see the newly returned elephants at the zoo.  Here, I can text a friend and make plans for the next day.  While we're there (at the zoo my children know well enough to give tours because we've come frequently ever since they were 6 months old) thoroughly enjoying ourselves, I run into a number of people I know and stop to chat.  My kids say, "Hi," to a friend from Hebrew school who passes by.  When my son was a baby, I declared, "I never go to the zoo without running into someone I know."  That has held true for years.  That, however, won't be the case when we move.

A mom I really like, but don't spend nearly enough time with, walks along side me while our girls walk ahead discussing their favorite books and our boys run around and around AND AROUND us.  She tells me, "We're going to miss you."  She has no idea how mutual that feeling is.

I look at my friends' kids that I've know since they were newborns and I realize they'll be frozen in my mind at their current 4/6/8/10 years old.  I've been there for these kids' first steps, first karate classes, dance shows, first time they wrote their names, etc., but that ends now.  When they hit their next milestones, I won't be there in the audience to see it.  

A friend posts on Facebook, "I got a girl's number at beer fest. Sweet! (making friends post college is hard!)"  I nod quietly to myself and sigh thinking that it's not fair that I'm leaving these awesome friends behind for the huge abyss that is the friendless unknown.

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Moving Right Along

We've spent years trying to move away.  We knew when our son was still an infant that we wanted to leave once my husband was no longer active duty.  The Air Force sent us here in the days after September 11th.  Coming from the North East, the South has been a bit of a culture shock in oh so many ways for these liberal Jews.  Oddly, we found we liked it here.  While the political climate and religious climate were very different from what we knew, the people were nice and the lifestyle was far more laid back than what we were used to.  We grew to love this place.  

When I spent a month back "home" during my husband's first deployment when the twins were toddlers, I realized it was no longer the place I needed to be.  Nearly the entire time I was there, I longed to come back.  I longed for my friends here, for my volunteer activities, for our day-to-day activities, for our zoo, our parks, our home.  

In the past few years, things here have changed.  His venture into the civilian life left my husband horribly frustrated with the jobs he held.  The political climate is far more volatile than ever.  More and more strip malls pop up left and right.  As a result, traffic is worse than ever.  Overall, people still smile and hold doors, but the racism and sexism and intolerance in general are no longer under the surface.  More people than ever here wear their hatred as a badge of honor.  

All that made us decide we needed to leave.  And so, we are.  Our house has sold.  A new one is purchased.  Closing dates are set.  Boxes are packed.  

We should be insanely excited to be moving on; everything we've worked for, hoped for, longed for, is happening.  After eight months apart, our family will be together again; this time, for good.  We'll have a home that fits us all.  My husband now works a job he actually likes.  

We absolutely are looking forward to all that.  Yet, at the same time, I listen as my daughters lament the fact that they can't pick a best friend among their top circle of friends because they're all "so cool," and I wince to think of my girls leaving them all behind.  My friends leave a party and say, "In case I don't see you before then, I hope you have an easy move."  On the swings, the six-year-old little girl who adores my toddler pushes her and I wonder,"How old will the baby be when they see each other again?"  My son tells me his plans for a friend's birthday gift only to realize that's a party we won't be here to attend.  

All this is another post for another day, but it's just hitting me now.  It's been creeping in in bits and pieces, but, with moving day approaching, I'm more and more aware of it.  As a child, I lived in the same house where four generations of my family lived.  I never moved away until I went to college and then got married.  Sure we've moved around a bit since then, but not with children.  We moved into this house a week before our twins were born and we've been here ever since.  This is a whole new experience for all of us.  At this point, it's one of those experiences I prefer, overall, not to think too deeply about (until, of course, I sit down and blog about it).  As the date moves closer, though, I find I don't have the luxury of ignorance (or at least avoidance).  

"I got my feet on the ground and I don't go to sleep to dream."

thirty-seven / threesixtyfive a photo by Noukka Signe on Flickr.

We had some potentially good news.   I'm trying to be calm and logical about it all, but apparently, my brain has shared this news with my subconscious which took that news, put logic through the shredder only to then spit on the scraps.

In all 6 months we've been apart, I don't think I've a single dream about my husband.  This is odd for me.  During his deployments, he visited my dreams, not on a very regular basis, but on several occasions.  Overall, those visits were welcomed, but, every once in a while, I'd wake from one of those dreams & it would take me a moment to realize our reunion only existed in my mind.  Go ahead and give me a bit of comfort and happiness and snatch it away quickly in the sunlight.  Stomp on my heart, why don't ya?

Apparently, my subconscious has taken this vague possibility and decided that the next step must be reunion.  

I didn't even dream about anything terribly obscene (:::waving meekly at my big brother and sisters who I know don't want to hear anything TMI about their baby sister:::).    I can't really remember much about the actual events of the dream.  I just remember him.  I remember purposely touching his skin and I remember his arms around me.  

And the next thing I remember was completely unrelated.  I was in an SUV driving off a cliff with a whole host of people, (none of them my husband).  When I woke up, I was shaken by the car off the cliff to the point that it took me a while to even remember I had even dreamt about my husband.  

Ever since then, though, I can't shake it.  I can't shake that longing for him (and, for once, my mind's not even in the gutter when I say that).  I can't reason with myself.  "Yes, yes, that's all well and good and will happen in time, but there's a chance it won't happen NOW."  In response, my heart shoves its fingers in ears and chants, "La la la la.  Can't hear you."  

I've actually found my conscious mind feeling more and more pessimistic about this prospect.  Maybe it's to try to counteract this hopefulness that has taken flight (prematurely) in my dreams.  I don't want to be disappointed.  I don't want to be the only one in our big bed at night.  I don't want to dream.  I don't want to be alone.   I don't want this chance to pass us by.  

"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

One Of Those Nights

It's one of those nights.  I hate these nights.  I miss my husband.

We've done this distance thing before.  We're used to it.  Honestly, now that the kids are older, it's not that bad anymore.  We have our routines.  I have help from the bigger kids.  I have fantastic friends who help out when they can.  I can handle this stuff on my own.

I don't need my husband to function.  I can handle the day-to-day stuff by myself without him around. The fact is, I LIKE my husband.  I actually want him around.  I know this, combined with the fact that he's not an asshat is a shock to many folks.  It seems to be the standard belief (and often practice) that husbands must be awful and wives should want to spend as little time as possible with them.

When he returned from his last deployment, he had a month off--a whole glorious month home with us.  We loved every minute.  A friend of mine, though, countered with, "You only feel that way because he just came home.  By the end of the month, you'll be dying to ship him back."

Um...no.  By the end of the month, we were sorry to see him go back to work.

I've known people who anxiously count down the days until a snippy spouse gets a vacation only to then immediately start counting down the days until their over-bearing spouse goes back to work.  We've never been one of those couples.

I like having my husband around.  He's smart.  He's funny.  He's hot as hell. He has good taste in movies.  He's a genuinely nice human being.  He's a great father.  He really is a partner--we're in this together.  We really do work together in most things (okay, so I wind up as the only one who cleans the bath tub 97.5% of the time no matter how many times I ask him to do it).

Yeah, obviously I love the guy.  We've been together 14 years (OMG.  I just realized that this year marks 14 years.  Yeah, I gasped at that realization) and this year will mark our 12th wedding anniversary (Why yes, that was another gasp you just heard escape from my mouth.  I knew last year marked 11 years so I have no clue how 12 managed to surprise me, but it did).  But the simple fact is, I like him.  After all these years, I still like him--really truly like him.

I don't know why tonight turned into one of "Those" nights.  I'm not even sure how it did.  I just know I suddenly and achingly miss my husband.

I'm trying not to let myself get too down.  "Always look on the bright side of life," and all that jazz (and yes, if you heard the Monty Python version, you're doing it right).  I really do know how lucky I am to be married to someone I still respect, still love and still like.  Still, when I remember how fantastic he is, I get a wee bit frantic and I get the urge to yell at the sky, "Then why the hell can't I be with him?"

*sigh*


This house will sell.  This house will sell.  This house will sell quickly so that we can move and our family will be together again.  


Could we just have that happen sooner rather than later, though...please. 

Today is February 1st. 5 months apart

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.

Eat me. Drink me. BUY ME!

We had another house showing today.  I'm getting so annoyed with busting our butts to get the house ready only to have everyone pass.  This is a great house.  It's bigger than most others on the market.  It's bigger than any other one in this price range.  Most of the house has new hardwood floors.  We have a great sized yard.

I don't understand why it's not selling.  It's so freaking frustrating.  I just want to sell this place and move already.  I want my family to be back together.  I'm ready to move on (literally and figuratively).  Apparently, no one else is ready to move IN, though.

And yeah, yeah, yeah, "It only takes one person," people tell me in an attempt to give me some comfort.  It doesn't work, though.  It just frustrates me.  Sure, it only takes one right person to decide this is the house for them.  In the mean time, we have to bust our butts to clean for tours for all the WRONG people.  The only thing worse than that is not having anyone come for a tour.  You can't possibly find the one right person if no one is coming to see it.

Pardon me while I go pout in the corner--the corner of this lovely house that could be all yours if you get your butt here now and give us an offer.  Please, pretty pretty please?

This IS the House You Are Looking For

We have potential buyers coming to look at the house tomorrow.  This has the potential to be perfect timing.  

I'm really done with the whole living apart from my husband thing.  I would really love to move along already.  

Please, please please please PLEASE. 

Help me, Obi-wan, you're my only hope.  

*Yes, I realize the "These are not the droids you are looking for" line was said by old Obi-Wan, but I like the lego version of the young one better.  So :-p to the accuracy sticklers.

**Just FTR, it kills me to use the screwy Star Wars grammar.  I love the movies, but I love grammar too.  

We've got grammar, yes we do.  We've got grammar.  How 'bout you?

There's no place like home.

I had no idea what on earth I was going to blog about today.  Well, I DID have an idea, but then the baby got to feeling sick again and suddenly, I was at a loss.

Well, now she's on the floor flipping through books and I'm online flipping through Etsy.  That gave me a blog topic.

I've been putting together a wish list for the kids which involves lots of neat artwork for their new rooms (whenever we move).  I want to have a whole exciting array of new artwork for them to anticipate hanging on the walls of their brand new rooms.

I've found some adorable artwork for them, but I've also found some art that I want to hoard all to myself.

The word "Home" as always had a different meaning for us since we were a military family.  That quotation is one I've loved for the longest time.  Now that we're separated again in our quest for "Home," this rings even truer.  I love that art from  Volume 25.  I have no connection with that shop.  Heck, I've never even heard of them before, but I can't tell you how much I love that piece right there.  

And oh my stars and garters!  This one titled "Wherever we are together is home" is another one I must have.  What a fantastic reminder this is!  I think this would be perfect in my youngest's room.  I love the colors and there's a bird.  We called her "Tziporah" when she was tiny.  She reminds me of all things birds (plus she was even a bird for Halloween).  

Oh, that shop just made my heart so happy!  I want to stock up on just about everything they have.  Happy distractions ROCK!  

Day 8: Goooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal!

My short-term goals for the month include Nanowrimo.  I started out just wanting to write to do something for me as a way to force me to focus creative energy, which I admit I don't do nearly often enough.  Now, though, as a completely unexpected story starts to take shape (not at all the one I set out to write), I find that I really do want something to come of this.  Even if I don't write something commercially viable (I'm working on a young adult novel right now), I at least want to get this story out there.  I really am committed to getting that done.  My goal is to write something my daughters will read and enjoy.  I don't care if it doesn't get beyond them.  I just want to be able to finish it, hand it to them and have them honestly enjoy it.

Another goal is to sell this blasted house.  In my dream world, I would love to have this house sell in November.  Then I could celebrate one last Thanksgiving here (although, sans the husband) as a big going away party and it would probably take just enough time that we could look at moving in December right after the girls' Hebrew school consecration.

And, of course, there's always keeping the kids alive and our world in order.  I'd also enjoy saving the world, but I think that will probably be relegated to the "Long-term goal" folder.

Crafty Goodness Roundup

I've abandoned my weekly link roundup as of late (quite accidentally.  I want to keep it up, but life has a way of interfering).  My constant collection of crafty goodness that I hope to create just keeps growing, though.  Out of the kindness of my heart (and the selfish need to keep them somewhere where I know I can find them), I'm compiling a collection here.

Leaf mobile (found at Creative Jewish Mom).
We have tons of yarn, so this would be great to do with the kids.  Plus, I've wanted to dress up our front door for fall.  I actually created a leaf wreath with items from the Dollar Tree, but I love that look, so I may create this mobile in addition.

Halloween Bloody Bathroom
This is one I don't actually plan on doing (could you imagine the reaction from potential buyers when they came to see the house?), but I love this and other Halloween ideas they have on that blog.

Cutest Owl Costume EVAH!
Okay, so I altered the title a bit to better suit my feelings on it.  :-)  I'm all about birds, especially in relation to my youngest (we called her Tziporah when she was tiny because she looked like a bird) and I particularly like cute owls.  So I'm going to get to work on this costume today.

Again, on the bird theme, I want to make these
Paper Mache Birds
They seem pretty simple and very cute.

I've been scouring the side of the road for drawers to use to make this
Dollhouse.
That's so cute and would be a great way to use up some of my neglected paper supplies.

I am absolutely in love with this owl room for my youngest.  Again, with the owls.  I adore that bedding.  The problem is, it's no longer available.  *sigh*  I have a knack for falling in love with things that are either 3 years old (and therefore nowhere to be found) or from a foreign country.  I wonder if I could try to create bedding like that.

Heart-shaped photo arrangement
I love that.  When we (finally) move, I want to try that out at the new place.

Not exactly a craft, but these Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Cupcakes are calling my name.  Problem is, I'm drooling too profusely to respond.

There's a lolcat for that.

This simple Halloween decorating idea from the Graphics Fairy cracked me up.  I'd like to do that year-round.  :-)  That's another one that makes me wonder what the potential buyers would think.

This rock collage is darling and simple (and a much better souvenir alternative to buying plastic crap with the name of the state/town/country plastered on it).

These owl items aren't crafts, but they are adorable and I think they'll easily lend themselves to crafts.  I could easily recreate those with fabric scraps.  Although, I must say, we have some Stephen Joseph items for the kids and we've been very impressed with the company.  We had a problem with one and the customer service was phenomenal.

This French Vanilla Creamer seems simple to make and lacks all those extra chemicals.

These paper name mobiles are adorable and simple.  That's another thing I want to make for the kids' rooms when we move.  Hmmm...I would even do something like that for the front door to spell out, "Welcome."  That combined with that first leaf mobile could be super cute.

Survival of the Sweetest

This morning, I found myself wondering how on earth my children would survive and what on G-d's good sweet earth was wrong with them.  Just 30 minutes later, I was left wondering how I got the sweetest kids in the world.

Yesterday evening, we found out last minute that someone was coming to see the house.  We were not at all prepared.  The mad cleaning dash began.  While mopping the floor for the second time, I found my oldest jumping on the couch.  Wait....WHAT?  Get your bum off that this minute!

My cleaning ADHD (I can never finish one project because I remember something else I need to clean) later took me to the playroom.  When I turned around, I found the same child jumping on ANOTHER couch.

Couch jumping is NOT allowed ever, but it's punishable by death when potential buyers are arriving in mere minutes.

This morning, I found the EXACT SAME CHILD jumping on the first couch as though she was TRYING to break it.  I. Was. Livid.

We headed out for our day with me fuming and wondering what on earth was wrong with that child.

Once we parked at shul for Sunday school, that same insufferable child unhooked, jumped out of her seat, and stood on one leg with the other leg over the baby's car seat.  You see, her baby sister had started crying and the eldest knows the baby likes to play with the dial on her sneakers.  So the oldest stood there, precariously balanced with one leg up in the air just so the baby didn't cry.

In the span of about 30 minutes, I went from wanting to punt the child to thinking she was the sweetest thing in the world.