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Sometimes it's hard for me to remember the things I need to...to remember that I'm grateful for so many things in my life. On one hand I get frustrated and ask "why me?" and then on the other hand, I will occasionally get a reality smack, and realize I have so much. I have a family that loves me, friends that care about me, and all the necessities a person needs and a lot of things that aren't all that necessary, but I want. I have limbs that work, a brain that is usually functioning, the ability and reasons to laugh, and so many more things that I can't even remember, much less document at this time. What it comes down to, really, is that when I weed out my whining and boo-hooing, I'm at a place I'm very happy with.
See? How can I be a sad-sack when I've got such goodness all around me? (Except for Syd...I told her she couldn't pour water all over the carpet, and her cries of objection ensued).
I've said before that I'm on Facebook a lot. Simply because I'm a voyeur and I enjoy reading people's thoughts and feelings during the day. It makes me feel a lot more normal. (And sometimes provides daily humor, affirmation, information, etc). I've found that the random thoughts and feelings that occur in me aren't all that individualized. That there are a lot of people that are just as insecure, or ticked, or happy, or scared, or whatever, just the way I am, at any given time. Not that this should be overly surprising, but I think we all feel incredibly alone sometimes, or that no one could possibly understand our deeply personal and peculiar emotions.
I have been following one of my "friends" on Facebook and this person, I've decided, is deeply disturbed. Not that their thoughts and feelings don't make for a good story, but at times I feel myself thinking: "Come on. We all have crap days, we've all dated complete losers, we've all had people we trusted completely screw us over..." and so on, and so forth. But this person seems to be taking their life very personally. To an almost alarming degree. To the extent of a depressed adolescent--and as we all know that means A LOT of drama. I take turns feeling deep sympathy for them, and rolling my eyes in frustration. In the end, though, they've encouraged me to open my eyes and see how easy I have it. I felt bad for a while for taking their pain and turning it into a life lesson, but now I'm okay with it.
Anyway, after a VERY long introduction to my smallish point, I'm grateful and I need to express that more often. This whole house thing had gotten me down, I'll admit it. Not that it should have, but I've kind of been in this weird funk in which I'd been trying to get excited and motivated about my house, about summer, about possible vacation plans, about just doing normal everyday stuff, and I really couldn't, because it just felt futile. Nothing was for sure--I didn't know what projects to start, because I wasn't sure if I could finish them, or if I did finish them, if they'd be appreciated, because our home may not be ours for very much longer.
Today I went with Jeff and Bob and Maida, (my in-laws, for anyone not in the know), and the kids, and we looked through our soon-to-be-new-home, again. Or I guess I should say, new to us. It was built in 1978, and it's been fully remodeled. Jeff and I had actually looked into building a new home. But I kind of felt that that decision, for us, would be kind of wasteful. Not that I'm saying building new homes is wasteful, it's just that we felt we wanted to find a place without neighbors so close, and maybe an established neighborhood--as we've been in a newer one, and see all the weirdness that occurs. Lots of squished homes and tons of solicitors, and people that believe they have much more space than they really do...i.e. horse trailers and over five vehicles, and three families to a single dwelling. I know this happens in older neighborhoods, too...but I'm hoping it's not as commonplace? I don't know. More space was our main concern...and these days, if you buy a lot to build on, chances are your neighbors will be VERY close.
Moving on. It was nice to see our possible new home again. This time it was a more relaxed walk- through. We DID notice that the guy living there right now is incapable of flushing the toilet after he uses it, and Cole was pretty grossed out about it...(when he does it, it's not as gross, apparently).
This time around it felt like this house is even more for us. It wasn't as "perfect" as I remembered it. There were more bumps and chips and things that made it look more like a home that we can make our own, despite the fact that there have been all those upgrades and such. So even though it contains things that I've been wanting forever, we can still make changes that will make it ours. I'm really excited to get started.
I think things are progressing. I don't know--my realtor is still out of town, and things aren't exactly clear. Our loan processor has questions we can't answer and I'm too afraid to ask our realtor when she's going to be back, as the nature of her trip is personal and kinda sad...so, here I am: Wanting to get the appropriate information for the appropriate enquirers, but not wanting to step on any toes, or seem like an uncaring wench. So I remain in a state of confusion and angst. Ugh.
In the meantime, I do have something that keeps me really quite busy. I don't have as much time to be frustrated and think about unpleasant possibilities. And before you assume, this isn't a form of my abusive nature, she chose to do these things, herself. Syd seems to think that if it's small, and if it's open, it's hers. And even if she gets stuck, scraped, or bumped, it's my fault. And how DARE I have allowed it to happen.
So it's now getting into May. Well, we have exactly one week and one day until it's officially May...from the time this is being typed. First off, I need to answer a question: Yes, I DID in fact take the kids out of school for Riley's birthday. I would have done that Cole's birthday, as well, but his was during the spring break. I remember having to go to school on my birthday like, every year. And it blew. So I ask them whether or not they want to go, and surprise, the answer is "no". I get extra "good mom" points for that...only to be taken away when some fiasco like locking my toddler in the car comes along. It's all a system of checks and balances.
Anyway, I was going to keep it on the down-low, but we are back on for the dream home. It's almost been a week and I can't think about anything else. I'm not sleeping and I'm craving sugar, and I'm living in this in-between state of "should I start on this?" and "am I just setting myself up for more disappointment?" Basically, stuck in limbo...keeping my house clean, and trying to keep my mind on other things...but massively failing. So there it is. And, the saddest part, is that Riley and Jeff both are sharing in my manic activities. The idea of our possible new home is taking up their thought processes, as well. And so we seem to be brain dead. Er, more so than usual.
My realtor is gone for the week, and I have had questions every second of every day.
Anyway, that's that. That's what's happening here. I've started jogging again--that's kinda new. I feel better about myself, and it helps with the nonstop mind-tease of the house and all the possibilities.
May...that's when it supposedly all goes down. I'll let you know more when I do. But after thinking about it, I realized that I might as well say what I'm thinking now...so if it doesn't work, you'll know why I'm bitter about everything. And if it does work, you can hear how properly grateful I am for all the good vibes that I know have been sent this way. And a big "THANKS!" to you all, btw. Because I think this second chance has a lot to do with some help from my friends.
Okay, that's all for now. I'm kinda tired...and kinda anxious. That's usual for me these days. Later Gators.
Thanks to those that sent shout-outs to Riley. She got to read them, and she felt pretty special. For those that may not know, or happened to miss my last post, Riley turned 10 on Wednesday. How is it possible? I'm a mother of a 10 year old. And I am a mother of a 16 month old...both girls. Both so incredibly different. And I'm the mother of a seven year old boy....I have to keep telling myself that I'm still a hot chick. I know that's really, really superficial, but I feel like my life has turned into this time-warp. And I stand still while everything and everyone whizzes by me..leaving those moving vapor-trails as they spin into the future. "Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'...into the future." I now know exactly what that means. That it's not just some drugged-out has-been talking about something he knows nothing about. (Just a partially drugged out, has-been).
I fear that one day I'm going to look in the mirror and really see myself...and I'll be this sad, old lady that still tries to "wear what the kids are wearing". And "pretends she's 25 years younger than she really is". The sad part? I can honestly see myself doing this...and being too far gone to have any shame over it.
Anyway, back to my daughter, because this post is, after all, about her. Mainly. Ten years ago to this very night (I'm typing this on the 14th, but who knows when it will get posted), I remember I was laying in my tiny hospital bed...and I got up to go take my contacts out, because I'd just finished nursing Riley--and it was really weird--and I thought I may as well try to get some sleep, because I'd been excited and up since around 4 am when she was born. I got slowly out of bed, and felt amazing--I could move! I could breathe! I was a little shaky, but I didn't feel like I had a 100lb tumor stuck to my lungs and chest, and I really thought I'd go look at myself in the mirror, and love that I was skinny again, and that my stomach would be back to normal. I had just had a natural delivery, after Riley finally came 2 weeks overdue, so I should have had at least one thing go my way. Right?
Well, first off, I remember my reflection showing me that my hair was freaking scary. I smelled pretty ripe, and my face was greasy. My happiness at being a mommy did a lot for my demeanor, but not my physical appearance. And then it was time for the real test. I needed to see my stomach. Because it didn't have an 8 and 1/2 pound baby in it anymore...so it had to have been somewhat smaller, right? I mean, isn't that science?
I lifted my nightgown, and of course I was sucking it in, because now I could. And I again consulted my reflection. However, it didn't look like I'd lost that much weight. And then, I exhaled. Basically letting my stomach OUT and it just....dropped. Like, to the top of my thighs. It was THE grossest thing I'd ever seen. And Riley, my first born, had made this happen to me. Something so small, and so sweet and that I surprisingly loved beyond comprehension as soon as I held her in my arms, had horribly disfigured me. Forever.
*rant* Or so I thought. I mean, I'll never have that tight skin that women have BEFORE giving birth, again. Even Madonna doesn't have it--not that I'm saying her stomach doesn't look great after all the exercises and such that she does. But you can tell the texture is just...different in her lower abdomen. And believe me, I can spot it. Never underestimate the power of a neurotic's eye. It's a genetic thing. And once again, I totally missed the boat. THANKS ANCESTORS.*end rant*
Anyway, it was then and there that I realized there would be so many sacrifices I'd have to make for this kid....willing, and kinda unwilling. And though that sounds less-than-great, it's the truth. I have made sacrifices. But I'd do it a million times over. The smiles, the love, the sense of achievement she's brought into my life, have made everything beyond worth it. Ten years ago I was a much different person than I am today, but I was less. Though I whine about getting old, I guess there's really no way I'd rather do it.
Well...that was kind of weird, I know. But the fact that I've made it this far is a bit mind-blowing to me. In the next ten years what will be happening? Will she be attending college? Will she be married? Will she be happy? Just as long as she knows that she's loved...that she and her brother and her sister, and her father are my everything. And that I'm grateful for every day I have with them. If she knows those things, then regardless of how old I am, it will be worth it. :)
(fyi: I'll also keep telling myself I'm still a hot chick...cause that's just what I do).
So, Riley woke up and let both me and Jeff sleep in. On HER birthday! Is she the best kid, or what? She didn't even keep coming in to our room, begging us to let her open presents every two minutes after 8:00 am. Like someone who will remain nameless. Or not. Cole.
We got to get up at around 10:30 and we didn't eat breakfast, because we went down and watched Riley open gifts, and then got ready to go to Pirate Island Pizza. Which was pretty much awesome, because that place is a ghost town on Wednesday afternoon, and we had the entire building to ourselves. Our waitress actually apologized to us for not being able to sing to her, as there were only two servers on staff at that time, so they gave her a baggie of treats, instead. Worked out perfectly--she's like her dad in that the whole singing part of birthdays is best forgotten about. Technically this was the year that we were supposed to let both kids have birthday parties. But with our house going back on the market and us being in the middle of a bunch of crap in that area, we have postponed it to next year, when hopefully, life is a little less out of control. Emphasis on "hopefully". However, both Riley and Cole were total champs about this decision, and I was reminded again, of how fabulous my kids are.
After gorging ourselves on pizza and breadsticks, (totally screwing Cole's system up, I might add, as we just weren't even thinking about it, and neither was he), the kids went nuts with all the tokens and went to work winning tickets to buy necessities like plastic bracelets, and small sticky toys that get hair and goo all over them, and sea animals that Syd can choke on. Basically everything I hate.
While they were doing that, I let Syd run around and touch all the blinking lights...until I noticed the ticket/prize guy giving me the look that said I needed to exercise more control over my toddler. She was a little stinky anyway, so I decided to take her out to the car, and change her diaper. I went and got my bag, and the keys from Jeff, and went to take care of business.
I unlocked the keys with the remote, sat Sydney next to her car seat and shut the door so she could play around while I put my bag on the passenger side seat and threw the keys with it...grabbing a diaper, shutting the door and going to the opposite back seat, so I could grab Syd and change her. However, somehow...the car was locked. And Syd was inside, and it was the first warm day we'd had in forever, and the windows were all up. I kind of panicked for a few seconds. Syd was fine...she'd found some stuff to eat on the floorboards, and so she was content with that. But Jeff was inside the arcade with Riley and Cole, and the keys and my phone were on the passenger seat...mocking me. My dilemma: Trying to get to Jeff, to anyone, while my baby is locked inside the car, alone in a parking lot, getting continually warmer, with no fresh air. I ran to the emergency exit of the arcade, and pounded on it. The ticket/prize guy looked at me, pretended not to see me, and then looked away. I didn't go anywhere. I kept the car within my sight and continued to stay there, looking straight at him, and finally he rolled his eyes, and opened the door for me...about to tell me that I wasn't supposed to enter that way, until I cut him off with, "I need my husband over there--I'm a moron, and I locked my baby in the car." His eyes got all wide, and he called to Jeff while I stood there, knowing that Syd was screaming in the car. Jeff followed me out, and here's what we saw:
Jeff called the police and we waited...and when one showed up, he took a while, trying to get the car door jimmied. Luckily, I left the keys on the front seat, because he ended up pushing the unlock button on the remote of my keys. Syd was just fine the entire time. It was like a game to her.
Yet another reason I won't be winning any "Mother of the Year" awards. Luckily everything turned out okay. After that, I was done....I'd had way too much excitement.
First Riley had to go spend some money at Toys R Us. (Some rituals are too entirely awesome to break), and then lastly we came home. I took a nap while Jeff and Riley made cupcakes with no frosting--her idea. She's not a frosting fan. (Neither am I). It was really low-key, but that's something I'm grateful we all agree on: Low-key is how we prefer stuff. Unless it's about me...and then you can bring out the fireworks, and it's all good.
Riley read all of her shout outs, and felt great, and ended up telling Jeff and I that yet again, it was the "best birthday ever". I'm thoroughly enjoying this part of her childhood, and I don't look forward to the time when this whole ordeal will turn into, "My birthdays ALWAYS suck". Which is something I went through from about 16 to 25. Maybe she'll luck out and that phenomenon will skip her. Fingers crossed.
I'm so lucky to have you, Sweetie. Your birthday is always exciting for me, because it reminds me of how much you've changed my life--so much better than I could have imagined.
This is my 200th post. And it blows. The people that were buying our home didn't get the loan they needed, and now we are on the market again. That's not the sad part. The sad part is, we won't be able to get the house that I've been daydreaming about for the last week. Copper kitchen sink? Stone tile and hardwood floors? Claw footed bathtub? All those things are gone. GONE. AAAAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!! I know I shouldn't have gotten all worked up about it. But I did. I knew this whole thing was fragile and "iffy". But then I was also making mental interior decisions and such each night...EVERY night, while I should have been trying to sleep.
I hate being dependent on other people. This whole process is infuriating. I mean, it's like being in science class. And being partnered up with the dumb kid that could give an absolute crap about the grade that you'll be getting. Yet, you have to work with them, because a huge part of the grade is the whole PARTNERSHIP factor. I hated that in school. I hated having to depend on others for my end result. And yet, here it is again. Anyway, that's where we are right now. I'm mad and I'm bummed, and I just want to wallow in my own self-pity. So I had to get that out of my system before Riley wakes up...and she'll have turned 10. In a few hours she'll be up, and she'll want me to be happy on her big day. So I'm going to bed ticked, and since I don't have a house to dream-decorate, maybe I'll get some sleep. And then I'll be ready to have fun and focus on Riley and what she wants to do.
Thanks to all for the shout-outs to Cole on his birthday. (And cards)! On the 8th he turned seven...and I can't believe it's come to this, but now he's a boy--he's not my baby Bubbers anymore. I'm a little heartbroken, but he seems to be doing very well with it.
I think he had a good day...in the afternoon he wrangled Jeff and Riley into playing Legos with him for hours and it was Cole's dream come true. I did have to convince him that before we went out shopping and to dinner, he had to get into some regular clothing. He wasn't overly excited, however because he's Cole, he was game. But first he had to show me a few unconventional things that he found he could do with parts of one of his Lego sets:
This first pic is his "wise cricket" pose. And the second his, "moooostache". Ah, I love this kid. His wit is amazing to me, it's hard to remember he's so little sometimes. He's kind and considerate and polite and witty. He's the kind of boy that all the little girls are, and should be, in love with. I'm not just saying that because I'm his mother, I'm saying that because I'm a woman, and know he's good to those he loves. Which is so important, and it makes me proud.
He chose to go to Carl's Jr. for his birthday dinner, and surprise, he didn't even eat anything. He just wanted to play in the play area. This seems to be a tradition he's developed for himself. We have to sit in a place that is loud and probably incredibly unsanitary while he and a million other kids are screaming and sweating and pushing and losing their cheap plastic kid's meal toys and blaming it on another kid that they see holding the same one. I'm not sure how we get suckered into that each year, but I guess it has something to do with love or wanting to please the birthday kid. I don't know, something dumb like that.
And then we had to go to Toys R Us because like his mother, cash literally burns holes in his pockets, so we have to spend it right away. No, it's not a good thing to pass down to my little ones...but out of all the genetic failures I'm swinging their way, it's not the worst, either. He bought, surprise, more Legos. One day, I will take him to Lego land. And probably have to leave him there.
I think that when we find our perfect new home, it will have to have a room just for all Cole's Legos. He's turned into quite the architect and designer and creator. I'm actually so impressed with what he just builds out of his head, and his ability to follow directions, because he whips stuff up that I would never think of in a million years. He says that when he grows up he wants to be a Lego designer. I'm assuming that there is SOME kind of employment out there in which this will be helpful. I hope. ;)
Happy Birthday, my best boy! Love you so much.
Somehow, it's April already. Somehow an entire four months have gone by since I had some time to come up for air. We've put our house up for sale, we are under contract...and I say that hesitantly, because we haven't really heard anything from the potential buyers yet. I'm hoping that whomever is doing their home inspection comes soon so I know that things are moving along. In the meantime, the house that we put an offer on countered with 6,000 OVER the LISTED price. I was confused...I didn't know it could work that way, but, whatever. Needless to say, we told them we'd look elsewhere.
And honestly? I'm glad we did...because we found my dream home. And I'm not going to be overly secret about it, and whatever, because what will be, will be. Last time I was overly worried to say anything, because I didn't want anything bad to happen. And guess what? With their counter offer, I felt that it was incredibly bad, and it happened. So I'm just going to say this: We found a house. A beautiful, wonderful house that will most-likely work out if the sale of our home works out. It's really so much more than I ever could have expected, and I feel like I should just be grateful that they accepted our offer. But if it doesn't work, then it's not meant to be. At least I know that they were willing to work with us, and that made me feel good. And, has given me really great daydreams for the last few days. We'll see. If it goes well, I'll post a couple pictures. Maybe. I still don't want to jinx us. But if my next post is me typing about how I'm crying, you'll know why. We have a couple weeks to have some major highs or lows, and it just remains to be seen. I'm asking for good vibes, though. I mean, save the best vibes for those that truly need it, but if you have a couple to spare, send them this way. I'm trying to drown myself in positives. This is an entirely new approach for me, so I'll see how it works.
Okay, that's what's going on here. Not a lot, yet, a whole lot. Just nothing I have any control over, so that makes it kinda stressful. I didn't want to add this to my post about Cole, so I'm trying to break apart from it....but this needs to be said: Hope all are okay and enjoying life...because that's what's truly important. Even when things are so stressful you can't sleep and, though this doesn't really happen to me, eat...remember that life is good. That breathing and seeing and touching are great things--are blessings that we need to appreciate. Remember you're loved. And that someone out there is thinking of you and being thankful for you at this very second..no matter what you have done, or who you are. This week a friend of Jeff's took his own life. And that breaks my heart, because I've felt that sadness before, and that hopelessness, and it's devastating. I'm very lucky because that hasn't been any part of my thoughts for years. But I remember when it was, and how confused and helpless you become. My thoughts and love to his family and friends, especially since they have experienced this before...and quite recently. I pray that out of this torment, a little peace is found, in time.
K. I'm going to try this again.
I showed you what our house looks like after the installation of the tile. And it looks great! The sad part, though, is that after eight years of wanting this, I think I may have maybe a month and a half left to enjoy it. We got an acceptable offer on our home. We countered, and they accepted. So we are officially under contract. Now, I'm not a complete moron...I know that the sale could fall through. But Jeff and I had this, "it will probably never happen", mindset. And now that it's a very big possibility that it is happening. So, I'm trying to enjoy it while we can.
We have our eye on a house in Springville. We put in an offer, and they can certainly decide to decline...as it's contingent on whether or not this house sells. (That it doesn't fall through, I should say). And that's where we're at. Not a lot of concrete information, but what we have to work with for right now.
Because it's after midnight, it's now officially Jeff's birthday. He's 33. WAY older than I am. But still damn sexy. Happy Birthday, My Love! Hope it's a good one...I'm assuming it won't start until around 2ish, as you'll probably sleep in until the afternoon. But I just want you to know that I love you, and you're still my best friend. Forever. Muuuuah!
