Tuesday, November 14, 2017

Little Miss Spunk

Well, the boy and I took the next big step in our relationship and committed to join the last decade, and we get iPhones.  I know, good people of the techno-webs, I can’t believe with our fast-paced track record of committing to all things up and coming that we only waited 10 years go fall into one of these smart phone situations.  It’s still kind of a shiny and weird, unfamiliar thing in my hand, but it was helpful that one time I took it grocery shopping.  So there’s that. 
 
(Imagine this…a portable, hand-held device with these crazy little application thing-a-ma-jigs that let you do things like remember your grocery list.  On demand.)
 
But piffle...who wants to hear about my gold, glittery case that I found on clearance.  That makes for super exciting dullsville reading.
 
Instead, I have a story about my favorite 5-year old. 
 
One day, the little squirt wasn’t in the pick-up line where she was supposed to be, but we quickly found her on her bus ready to go.  She had a sub in her class that day who accidentally got her transportation situation mixed-up.  The principal found her and brought her over to my car, but she was just holding it all in. 
 
The next day, I did need her to ride the bus home.  Her teacher was double checking to make sure that my little bit was getting on the bus but missed her in the organized chaos that is a hundred kids getting on buses.  She called in back-up (the principal – a really great guy), who got on the bus to personally ensure that my child was where she needed to be.  He called her name and my child, my little Spunky McGee who was at the back of the bus, stood up in the aisle, put her little fists on her little hips and loudly stated “My mommy TOLD ME I’m supposed to be on the bus today!”  He smirked (I’m sure), replied “Okay!” and reported that all was well to the chiclet’s teacher. 
 
My kid.  My second born.  My little mini me.  She’s got some sort of spiff about her that already defies my logic. 
 
This will be one of the pinnacle moments of my parenting life to hear my child first stand up and declare herself present and aware.  I have no doubt that this will be one of those moments I repeat to her again and again when I’m old and shriveled-y.  
 
And on that note, I will share that I’m full-on developing wrinkles.  I may not have grey hairs yet, but ye olde face isn’t as young and smooth(ish) as it once was of yore.  I think the good remembering things like a plucky daughter are bunching up and making me smile more.  It’s hard not to smile.

Monday, October 16, 2017

DC-ing is hard work

Well.  This weekend didn't go as planned.  We're in the middle of Fall Break right now (capitalized, of course...should maybe be FALL BREAK!!! though), and this was that weekend that I've been looking forward to since I knew of its very existence back in the middle of August.  High expectations, I guess, are bound to flame out.  But, le sigh..., I really needed a mental break. 

Here's what I know.  I was set-up to enjoy essentially 3 days more or less by m-y-s-e-l-f to explore museums.museums.museums unencumbered by whining or anyone else's schedule.  It was 3 days of me-time to do me-time stuff however me wanted to do it.  I mean...SIGN ME UP, EUNICE. 

The boy was selected to attend and present at a 3-day conference for research educators in DC, which if you're reading between the lines as you should be, means that you too understand what I'm getting at here: free hotel room for me.  How fast can I buy a plane ticket for that situation?  Plus, he was getting fed all weekend, so it was really alls for me. 

While I didn't devote a lot of planning time prior to the trip to figuring out all of everything, there was some amount of pleasure in knowing that I could just go and figure it mostly out when I was there.  When I travel with kids, we're pretty scheduled so that we don't run into the unintentional melt downs that occur when you forgot to pack snacks for the impromptu trip to the wherever.  I keeps lists on top of schedules for kid-trips.  And that's cool.  BUT THIS WAS GOING TO BE COOLER.

I've never been to DC, mind you, and my recon work involved asking a couple of co-workers what I should do.  They all said "Go to the Holocaust Museum."  To which I thought "And, pray tell, what else shall I do with the other 66 hours of my weekend?  Give me more input, please."  The answer I should have gotten and will no give to any and all who ask is "Go to ____ and you won't be disappointed.  Really, just go to _____."  Let them fill in the blank because it is all, all so very worth it.  And the free-ness that abounds!  I do love me some free-ness (even if that means having your things frisked every time you walk in a building). 

Put on your walking shoes, though.  At one point on Sunday afternoon while the boy was waiting to catch his flight home and I was just getting to Arlington, I texted him a picture of my dress/legging/tennis shoes get-up which gracefully by default added 15 years to my age but comfort to my tootsies.  The much cuter leopard print flats were relegated to the backpack for that afternoon.  I knew that this would be an issue all weekend, but I'm still in my 30s sister-thren of the interweb!  Unite with me that cute feet are still a something to be wanting!

I did get a blister from those leopard print flats.  Sacrifice.

I'm all wonky right now in my timeline.  Back up with me a moment.  Here's a fun breakdown in 60-seconds or less. (but probably more)

Friday, 3:30 AM:  youngest daughter begins throwing up...you think to yourself, "I have to get up in an hour and a half anyway, so I guess I'll just pretend to sleep"
Friday6:20 AM: get out of the house 20 minutes late with some amount of guilt at leaving your mom behind with 1 sick child, something she didn't sign up for but for which you assured your daughter that "Grandma knows how to take care of a sick little girl"
Friday 7:15 AM:  can't sign in at airport & are quickly told that you missed your flight
Friday 7:16 AM:  email confirms that your flight left 20 minutes ago & you mistakenly had in mind that the landing time was the departing time; begin to understand that this weekend is going to have issues
Friday 7:17 AM: agree to be on standby on 2 different flights (Indy-->Houston-->DC because that makes sense) in order to get in only 6 hours late rather than 10 hours late from original arrival time
Friday 11:07 AM: find good guac & chips because HOUSTON
Friday 2:12 PM: CAN'T WAIT TO GET OFF OF PLANE
Friday 3:38 PM:  trying to find boy, who's asking questions and am almost in tears because METRO
Friday 3:40 PM: find boy, get a hug, suck it up and begin the museum-ing
Friday 6:12 PM: boy walking quick-quick-quick back to hotel; trying to find food that's not from a chain restaurant but can easily be taken back to the hotel room to veg
Friday 8:22 PM: finish running on hotel treadmill which is noisy & has no closed captioning on the TV...blerg
Friday 9:00 PM: boy is done for the night with conference, says "Let's wait until tomorrow night for a date in the chic hotel bar"
Saturday 7:04 AM:  boy starts throwing up (see above, Thursday 3:30 AM); work to get the heck out of that hotel room ASAP-er than ASAP while covering ears with hands because gag
Saturday all the day: try not to feel naseous
Saturday all the day: 5 museums, 1 National Mall, 1 Capitol building, 1 Supreme Court building, 4 monuments
Saturday 6:18 PM: text boy (who's feeling better after updating vomit reports throughout the day...doesn't help in fighting the nausea) about internet check concerning burger & fries joint because maybe-maybe-maybe am hungry enough & that sounds better than anything else
Saturday 6:18 PM (concurrently): slogging back from furthest point of the day on sore-sore-sore feet while alternating between nausea/food/gag and hmm/supper/maybe?
Saturday 6:32 PM: opt for strawberry shake/cheeseburger/fries - walking all the day, deserve it, right?
Saturday 6:49 PM: halfway through shake, burger gone, fries not looking so great but f-r-i-e-s so give them a go
Saturday 6:53 PM: don't finish fries for the first time in this history of histories
Saturday 6:57 PM: tell boy to get the heck out of the bathroom, empty the wastebasket & bring a cold washcloth on the double hurry
Saturday 6:58-8:32 PM: alternate between cold tile of bathroom floor and uncomfortable pillows of bed watching Houston beat New York (great game!)
Saturday 8:33 PM: decide emergency is over and will live
Sunday 6:01 AM: made it through the night, happy sigh
Sunday all the day: worse nausea...not cool, universe
Sunday all the day: please-let-me-not-throw-up-in-____ [public location] & locate closest trash can when entering new room
Sunday all the morning:  cute animals at zoo! kids would like
Sunday 12:37 PM: drag out "lunch" with the boy so that he'll just sit for company a little longer before he has to catch his shuttle
Sunday 1:25 PM: decide to visit Arlington because it's on the way and then collapse at airport for whatever time is remaining...give in
Sunday hours of the PM:  glad am at Arlington where trudging is OK and silence is pervasive, also pleasant breeze, shadowy trees & occasional benches
Sunday 4:01 PM: figure out can't make it all the way back to airport on Metro as it should be because of maintenance and have to figure out a new shuttle situation
Sunday 4:52 PM: {on shuttle] driver: You in a hurry?  me: fortunately, no...  [traffic is vile; bus almost sideswipes or otherwise damages many, many vehicles...crazy DC driving]
Sunday 5:57 PM: not fun figuring out the maze of the huge airport while weary and bleck
Sunday 6:02 PM: order hummus and pita chips in hopes of keeping it down prior to flight, which is place that always induces weird nausea-y ness
Sunday 9:32 PM: missed shuttle stop...trudging again but in the dark and 20 degrees colder
Sunday 10:17 PM: home at last, home at last...youngest daughter just threw up again after 3 days of being all-clear

I give up.

It was a slog of a week to get to the weekend, which was supposed to be the relief.  It wasn't terrible but it wasn't great.  There was little fun food on a trip when I should have been having all of the fun food.  There was some fantastic art and history experiences but also the mobs of middle schoolers, which is just not where I was at, mentally.  And today, we let go of our fuzzy boy, and I've been highly weepy. 

So it's just an moment-by-moment situation right now, and all of it seems like too much work and too much thinking. 

But, I saw pandas for the first time, and I affirmed that yes, while I can figure out everything on my own, I really prefer to travel with the boy if for no other reason than I don't have to slog through the women's bathrooms with all of my stuff every time.

Also, my calves and right side continue to be surprisingly sore.  Figure that one out.

So it was a I'm-glad-it-happened-but-boy-was-it-work kind of weekend.  And even though finding a decent breakfast was just about the hardest thing ever, it'll be great to go back with the girls someday.  I think? I hope? I have faith that this can happen.

Friday, September 29, 2017

Shipt Wrecked

Sometimes, things seem great.  Sometimes, things seem to be worth the cost.  Sometimes, things make you think "Well, technology, you're becoming more worthwhile in my life." 

SHIPT.  You did seem great.  You did seem to be worth the cost (and perhaps then some).  You did make me reconsider my on-again-off-again love affair with technology (mostly off-again...seriously, I try to get over you and you keep hanging around and hanging around and making me think twice/thrice/fourthice about how much I should love you.

But Shipt...you bite.  Big time.

First blush - $100 a year to have someone else pick up my groceries for me and then deliver them to me?!?  I'm just about as cheap as they come with new-fangeled doo-hickies and thing-a-ma-bobs, but this seems like moolah well spent. 

We be cheap around this here place.  I do not own/use a smart phone.  The boy does not own/use a smart phone.  I hear that there's a new one coming out.  $1000.  That (doesn't) make sense.

Second blush - My new grocery store situation has expanded by a couple of possibilities, none of which are regularly not busy.  And, I don't have the luxury of much kid-free time to stroll happily up & down the aisles in my pixie chinos & wedges like one might see in a happy-camper advertisement.  My kids enjoy racing the shopping cart up and down the toothpaste aisles, talking LOUDLY even if I'm standing right behind them, and engaging in games of we'll-pretend-that-Mommy-can't-see-us.  I maybe pretended that they weren't my children and calmly went to the frozen section & found 2 pints of ice cream just this week.  Hypothetically speaking.  Basically, it's a bit of a hassle to take them, and we're a 1-small, 1-medium trips a week kind of family now.

Third blush - The price went down a few weeks ago.  Really down.  Like 50% down.  And I signed up.  I'ma never gonna take those kids to that place again, at least for a year while someone else endures the struggle for me.

Fourth blush - I hated it.  I hated the mark-ups on just about everything (1-lb. of grapes for $14? a box of basic Puffs for $2.49?)  I hated the limited selection (for the love of a bag of organic carrots...I know they're lurking somewhere!).  I hated the time it took me to scroll endlessly through too much I'm-never-going-to-buy-this stuff in order to find the 1 kind of yogurt that I want.  I figure that the time spent scrolling would go down the more I used the service and could just reference back against my previous orders.  Admittedly, I like that part.  But it took a s-w-e-e-t forever to get my $35 order when factoring in cost & actual want/need.  Even taking my children with me, I can do that quicker.

Fifth blush - Hidden costs are for the birds.  I didn't know that there would be mark-ups.  Silly me to think that once I paid for a service, I would then pay the cost that the brick & mortar store charges.  And for someone who has never had pizza delivered and who almost never tips when it is optional because seriously, a $35 haircut doesn't need to have an additional charge, I did not see the tipping of the Shipt person coming.  That was it for me.

I had it for about 48-hours.  I made one order with it.  I like it in theory, and I think that there are other slightly different services that may be more worth my time/money, but this one just is NOT.  But, the person I talked with via live chat on a Sunday afternoon was lovely and refunded the service fee without question.

Props to those who are making these grocery services work.  Back when I was a teenager and helping my grandparents with their grocery shopping, I had a couple of thoughts about how cool this kind of a personalized grocery shopper could be.  But gag.  If this is the best it can be...pass.  

Friday, September 8, 2017

Update: The Job

I’m actually typing this in an email to myself while eating cucumbers, cheese & hummus at my desk.  That’s my kinda mid-day break.

There might be crackers happening soon.

There will probably be coffee.  Actually…I’m going to make some.  BRB (as the kids say)

So I’ve had something of a revelation: the electric kettle + pour over coffee maker combination.  My new full-time gig is at a place that is so big that it necessitates 7-minute passing periods.  That gives me more than enough time to brew a cup of coffee the slow way.  And because I’m an equal opportuni-tea beverage drinker, it makes it that much easier to have my daily cup of green (New Year’s resolution 2017 for the win!) as well.  But right now, I’m going dark.

It’s an in-class writing kind of day from start to finish, so I’m at my desk for a considerable chunk of time.  Which is good, ‘cause I’m getting a big hunk of work done.  Which is bad, said no one ever.

And here’s my Update: NEW JOB
It’s OK.  It feels normal to be back in the daily grind.  It feels good to have some consistency to hold onto.  It feels GREAT not to have to coordinate 3-5 weeknights where I have class and the boy has meets or practice.  

The 2 biggest changes happen at the bookend parts of each day.  It’s a logistical dance getting everyone ready and out the door by 6:45 in the morning. Our girls are big breakfast eaters, which can drag onnnn interminably if we let it.  There’s still too much of the “C’mon, we gotta go!”  So I’m working on that.  But all told, they’re doing g-r-e-a-t, beyond my expectations of what it was going to be like.  I’m still shuddering in anticipation of the LONG and DARKER than DARK winter months when sluggish attitudes prevail and tempers are snappy.  I haven’t been able to figure out how to flex schedule the three darkest months of the year so that I teach virtually from, say, Bali.  I’m working on it.

The boy is doing the drive right now back to his one & only teaching job.  The truest shame in this is not that I’m solely in charge of before/after school shuttling, or that I’m the one who is rushing around every morning making sure that 2 littles are set & ready, or even that we’re putting miles upon miles on our car (again).  NO M’AAM/SIR.  The boy drives MY car now everyday because it’s considerably cheaper at the pump for that daily mileage.  

The thing is, we upgraded when buying this car because I was driving so much and because we went cheaper on a previous car that we bought for me.  That car is absolutely fine, but it turns out, we really believe that paying a little more to have some of the perks is definitely worth it given how much we drive.  And now, I’m back with that base model purchase, and I miss my whip dearly.   
 
BUT.  So it goes.  That's just the cost of doing business, so to speak.  It's like how my running is down to about 1/3 of what it used to be - just enough to help not gain back any pounds, I hope.  I don't have a normal treadmill-TV combo anymore (which, frankly, IS what I prefer), so I've been pounding the neighborhood pavement.  And it's s-o-o-o boring, just me and the sound of my feet with the occasional whiff of a neighbor's grill.  I don't know how you other 99% do it.  I've tried the earphone thing a few times before on early morning runs when the only thing on TV includes infomercials and the morning news (which is more aptly the morning weather-update-commercial-commerical-commercial-more-weather-update-small-puffy-news-piece).  So I do miss the ability to just take off for 30 or 45 minutes and veg out with some mindless home makeover shmarm.  
 
And it's Friday, which means that anything else I really have to say is skewed by the wierdness that is the end of a workweek (even a short one).  Cheers to the weekend and some grading.  May there be a big cup of coffee and a brownie in it somewhere. 

Sunday, August 27, 2017

Updates! Updates GALORE!



Well, hey there, good lookin’.  It’s been a sweet forever.  But I’m back from the longest of months.  Right at the top of the list of “things that I’ve learned along the way in ye olde educational profession”:  August and February are the LONGEST months of the school year.  The days may even have more hours in them during these months than in any other (I’m trying to verify).  This is my first year working with the more balanced school calendar that is quite popular around here, which subsequently extends the first month of the school year by an additional 10 or so days.  But, I got that first paycheck for the full-time gig, so let’s check that one of the list of “things to accomplish this summer.”  There’s a certain kind of validation that a legit paycheck brings, one that I can’t shake.  It’s time.

UPDATE TIME: The House

We officially moved and officially sold (sometimes seemingly on a wing and a prayer).  On the hottest 2 days of the entire year thus far.  But shortly after, I started stress eating big time and probably gained back all of that how-much-can-one-person-sweat-in-a-day weight that I like to think I lost. 

I also officially and subsequently sent 3 packages to our old address.  One was box springs for our kid’s bed (not a surreptitious box on the front porch).  She ended up sleeping on a mattress on the floor for about 2 weeks while we sorted that one out.  The other 2 involved some covert maneuvering by our former neighbor and me (nicely) harassing the new owner.  And then I gave up on changing our address on pretty much everything but Amazon and Target.com (because what else is there in life?).  Perhaps between now and when W-2s come out from my FOUR employers that I’m currently on the books with, I’ll get all of those changed.  Or not.  It’s annoying.

The new house is pretty much everything that I imagined it would be: bigger and somehow largely the same as the old digs.  We did rip off a big old, glued-to-the-wall mirror from the girls’ bathroom yesterday.  So we have that look going for us as you can imagine what the underside on the wall looked like.  But that’s progress since we’ve had a new mirror ready to hang for four weeks now.  We move at a lightning speed around here.  Another newbie that we’ve had brand new and waiting to be installed for weeks now:  a new faucet for the sink in the kitchen.  We quickly (in about 2 seconds of having possession) learned that the faucet leaks unless you have the handle just so, which means that I spend a good amount of my day making sure that things are just so, which also means that I want to rip it out of the sink and throw it in the street like the scumster that it is.  But, the boy is waiting to unpack his plumber’s putty first before replacing it.  Except the boy is looking through zero boxes a day in search of that magic goo.  Ergo, leaky faucet = still intact.  This is riveting stuff, so I’ll keep you posted. 

Something that we can’t just update on a whim: light switches.  They will do me in yet.  They make virtually no sense, and there’s just about nothing more annoying than a switch that has the sole purpose of turning an outlet on.  Gag.  Plus they’re the wide, flatter switches rather than the littlerones that stick out farther.  Blerg.

All of that aside, much of the problems in this establishment stem from the fact that we don’t have a shed as we did with the former place.  Our garage continues to be all of the piles and all of the boxes that are lingering like parasites that moving boxes are.  And it turns out that yard sheds are pricey and don’t always come with such niceties as floors and roofs.  Plus, we’re all of us full-timing it in addition to add-on activities for the adults, so the goal is to pony up the dough for a we-have-to-abide-by-HOA-covenances-now yard shed by frost-on-my-window season.  We did slip a new composter in beside the trash bins and no one from the neighborhood has banged on our door yet. 
(Sidenote:  I’m still adjuncting on the side because I have issues, and I think that I’ll be in charge of 9 classes for a couple of weeks right around Fall Break.  That was unintentional planning – “add-on activities,” folks.) 

We also have an extra washer/dryer set languishing in the garage.  As one would have.  Some people keep an extra fridge/freezer in the garage.  We abide by the “you can’t have too many washers & dryers that aren’t hooked up” motto, it seems.  Sometimes, you have the will to tackle a job (like unhooking current washer/dryer and reconnecting other washer/dryer).  And sometimes, you just lose the will to start yet another job that will undoubtedly have some issue pop up.  One can only make so many trips to Lowe’s before you just abandon the current house and start over in your parents’ basement.  We’re about 2 trips shy of that right now.

The lawn mower is still in the garage, too.  Which we sometimes use.  But we switched from a yard with 2 trees (total) to a yard that has around a dozen and a raised bed and these odd, staggered trellis things. The first time we mowed, we tag-teamed the yard, and just from my half, I very much wanted to BURN IT ALL DOWN.  It’s a whole bunch of piddly little cuts and maneuvers and blasted circling circling circling.  So that’s a job that I’m going to turn back over to the boy, at least mostly.  Otherwise, this mama may have to coin the term “lawnmower rage.”     

But, the biggest issue isn’t actually the house but our favorite tabby, the Toby-est with the most-est.  The one who was prescribed chamomile tea when I wasn’t ready to commit to Prozac for her.  The one who needs to CHILL OUT a lot bit.  She acts all dewy-eyed and lovey-dovey, but then she turns around and continues to be a beasty-hearted little fuzz-bum when we’re not looking, and her time is short if she cannot pull her act together.  So, I’ll pause on that story line because I’m in what you might call caught between denial and pulling-my-hair-out-frustration.  But this little 8-lb. ball of fun times and shenanigans is my girl – the one who yawns stinkily in my face at night and doesn’t let me grade any student’s writing without her body squarely on my lap.  She’s purring her way with me through this post right now, in fact.

Life does not only include furry beasties now, though.  Our house does have quite a healthy supply of adorbs-ably sweet little toads/frogs.  (We’ve debated which they are and are still flummoxed.)  We also have some biggies hopping around occasionally, and even though this happens about every other day, it’s still delightful to look out a window and see a tiny toadie the size of a quarter staring back at you while suction-cupped to the window (mostly on the outside, but the boy did let one in on accident a few days ago).  In fact, the first night that the boy was here, he walked out onto the front porch and thought there was a squirrel sneaking up on him.  Nope…frog.  (I know.  I get them confused all of the time, too.)

We’re also apparently in the flight path of a local-ish hot air balloon company.  Last night, there were four of them floating around up there.  They’re often low enough for us to hear the whooshing sound and see the people moving around in the basket.  So that’s pretty great.

I do have a strong inclination to continue looking for a(nother) new house, however.  The left turn out of the subdivision is a rough one.  There are going to be years of this.  I’m not sure we’re that strong to endure it.  The boy isn’t yet ready to buy into this notion of moving because leaving the subdivision is a burden on my life.  If I start now, I’ll wear him down someday.

The rest will have to wait and hopefully sooner than another month from now.  Also, my glasses are broken and I’ve been wearing them now with only 1 of the legs holding them on my face.  Only 1 student has noticed.  So there’s that, too.  (That’s livin’ the dream.)


Saturday, July 22, 2017

The short report

I want to write.  I really do.  Instead, I've been moving boxes and just now giving up in favor of paper grocery bags & small trash bags.  We're stuffing our cars and making a few trips down the road. 

This morning, I bought room darkening curtains for all 'cause we're not staying up this late every night waiting for the sun to go down.

This morning, we wandered around a new farmer's market and met an adorbs dog named Louie (part chi-woo-woo -as we say - and part terrier).

This morning, I woke up with both cats hanging around in my room.  They hadn't ventured upstairs until last night.  It looks like they're getting over some of their new-home anxiety.

This morning, my daughter decorated her wall with decals, and it looks jammin'.

Right now, I'm sitting in a beach chair in an almost empty living room, poaching my own internet and putting off the return trip and another unloading process in the HEAT for a few more minutes.  I'm also watching some baseball because n-o i-n-t-e-r-n-e-t a-t t-h-e n-e-w h-o-u-s-e.  It's like 1996 all over again.

Thanks be that my job does not have me work outside all year round.  It would test the strength of my soul.  

Friday, July 14, 2017

All the leggin's, all the time

I have much, much, much to write about, but I fear that I will be just makin' y'all jealous 'bout all the leggin's, all the time.  Summer = so many leggings. 

(I'm also watching The Office right now because NETFLIX HOW DARE YOU?!?! for pulling it from your offerings?!?!  I will undoubtedly forget things that I want to tell all of the you.)

Here's where I'm (mentally) at right now:

1.  We close on our new house in 6 days.  It turns out that the time between when you agree on a price and when you pay for the price is a long time.  It's not that I'm all BALLOONS & CONFETTI & CHEERCHEERCHEER but rather like dearly beloved can we just get this ooooover with?

2.  We close on the sale of our current house 4 days later.

3.  I spent 9 hours today working with other teachers on crafting/planning/drafting rubrics, assessments, a schedule, and a decision on what material to use.  We completed (almost) ONE unit.  We're now (almost) through October.  Le sigh...teachers.

4.  This town continues to be a magnet for twisters, and as I woke up just a few days ago when the siren went off for the second time that night, I immediately thought "We're not going to end things this way, house!"  (It's time to back off on life when you think your house is out to get you by attracting tornadoes.  That usually doesn't happen, I hear.)

5.  Our big furball is really a bony furball right now as he is on what I called "kitty life support" right now, i.e. down to his final days.  He's in that bony hips & spine stage now, but his sweet, sweet eyes still have some life in them, and we can't tell that he's in pain.  So we're gonna give it a go and take him with us to the new digs rather than take him to the vet for one final showdown in the exam room. 

6.  I apparently have to be trained in about three things this summer if I want to continue with any of my jobs. 

7.  I'm also currently employed by 4 schools, though one hasn't exactly paid me yet.

8.  The Boy can't wait to do my taxes for this year, I'm sure.

9.  I have a list of well-we-really-don't-want-to-have-two-empty-rooms furniture options.  When I don't have grading that I have to work on, then I'm probs going to be searching, searching, always searching for ideas and cheap-but-not-too-cheap furniture because sometimes you just want a chair to sit in. 

10.  Neither of us don't really want to just buy stuff and more stuff because we have some space.  It's a fine line to walk for me.  Just yesterday, our financial advisor (ironically) told us happily "Oh, you'll grow into the space!" when we indicated that we want this to be our last mortgage and we're really intending to downsize hard when the girls go to college and shouldn't she be proud of us for our financial prudence.  But we don't really want to "grow into the space."  And then she said "Just don't get one of those tiny houses that you see on TV."  I think there's a fair bit of space separating the two. 

11.  I ran 4+ miles yesterday, and it felt relatively easy.  That's never happened before.  (I also heard heavy breathing and was glad to see that it was someone behind me on the stair machine; I thought for a minute that I was just an obnoxious breather.)

12.  A few hours after we close on the new place, the Boy is leaving for 3 days to go to cross country camp.  This is the first time that he's done it even though he talks about doing it every year.  His timing is suspicious.

13.  I'll be basically moving us into the new place by myself after he helps with the couple of big things.  I'm OK with this.

14.  The day after the last closin' (which happens right after the movin' when I'll be wearin' the leggin's), I start back up again.  I'm kinda OK with this, mostly just tired of waiting for it to start.

Something HAPPEN already. 

But wait...that means I can't wear the leggin's as much.  It's a catch-22.