Up Too Late & Being Available

Some people are just so thoroughly enjoyable. But they're bad for you, because you end up laughing and talking until almost one thirty in the morning...

Wait a minute! Since when is laughing til the wee hours of the night bad for you? There are much worse ways to spend an evening, definitely. And so, it's quite late and I've told Melissa everything I had to say- so right now nothing sounds quite fresh enough to blog. And I'm tired.

****

The boys were wonderful tonight. I coached the boys ahead of time that they can come to me ANY time they need me. The pre-arranged child-care had me a little anxious, knowing it would be somebody from the church (and the church is big on letting little ones cry it out rather than "disturb" Mommy by coming to get her. I find it more disturbing to think my children were denied access to me, so my children stay with me.) But this was at a private home and they would be within earshot. Plus, I taught them a pre-arranged sentence to utter if anyone tried to stop them from coming to get me. It was based on James' question, "But Mom, what if they say you're busy?" Repeat after me:

"My Mama is never too busy for me. She said I can go to her any time I need her. Please move."

They both had it memorized before we got to the house. We all felt better when we arrived.

Smidge came in and out pretty regularly, as toddlers will do. That's what they do. They wander off to be independent for a while, then come tank up on Mama Lovin's, and they're off again. I don't believe in interfering with that. That's what I'm here for, and that's what the toddler needs: a home base from which to launch his explorations of the world around him. I could tell it really bothered the sitter, who usually came into the room hot on Smidge's heels with an apologetic look on his face. I'd swoop Smidge up onto my lap and he'd nestle in for a minute or two, then give me a beso and trot off to the next adventure. No fussing. No crying. No disturbance of the dialogue among adults. Nobody rolled their eyes. The other toddlers, however, tried a similar route and were turned back by their parents every time. This inevitably disrupted the study, the calm, and the toddlers. Apologies all around by the harried parents, tense smiles from the other participants.

Near the end of the study, I did hear an adamant little voice telling the teenager in charge, "My Mama said she is never too busy for me!" I smiled. And retrieved my sullen, yet determined four-year old. He came and sat quietly while we prayed, then kissed my cheek, signed "I love you" and ran off to play again.

****

On the way home after picking up Zorak from the hangar, James asked, "Mom, who is my uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's wife?" So I did the math and added all the great's in there and gave him an answer. "Oh," he said. He was quiet for a minute and then we heard, "What's her name?"

****

The two younger boys were unaware of the world by the time we got home. We loaded them in their beds, and hung out with James for a bit, eating in the living room, discussing rocks and other fun six-year old stuff. They were just finishing off the peas when Zorak brought up the peas poem (You know, I eat my peas with honey/ I've done so all my life...) James remembered it and thought it was ok. But then Zorak made up a new poem:

I eat my peas with glue
I've done it since I was four
It makes them hard to chew
But it keeps them on the door

I don't know where he comes up with these things, but it had James in stitches and when he finally caught his breath, he said, "Dad, you really need to write that down." And here it is.

I'll see y'all in the morning!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Comment Fixes & Other Stuff

Hey guys- Melissa emailed me to say the comments had just quit working. I've switched them to pop-up version now, so we'll see if that works.

Today, the hustle and bustle ends. It's over. We placed our bid for the house on XYZ street. It's a sealed bid situation, and we won't know the outcome until next Thursday or Friday. So.

On to other things!

Zorak has to fly tonight. He sounded heartbroken on the phone- not only does he get overtime and get to play with a great helicopter, but he won't be able to make it to the Bible study he'd signed us up for, either. Of course, that kind of heartbreak was nothing compared to the groan of utter despair he let out when I told him it would be ok if he missed the first one. *hee hee*

We had a great afternoon! We dropped Zorak off on base and then ran FUN errands- trip to the library, where we picked up "educational videos" - which the boys were not thrilled about in theory, but are currently glued to and thoroughly enjoying! Then to the Naval Air Museum. There's just nothing like a couple of hours scouring fighter jets, sonabuoys, and open trainer cockpits when you're six and four! I love time spent with the boys, doing the things they enjoy. And they've been so patient with us through all the things nobody enjoys (but which needed to be done). That was wonderful.

Tomorrow is our Friday! Yippee! Not sure what our plans are for the weekend, but it should be fun. *whisper* I've heard rumors of s-n-o-w! :-)

Anyhow, Smidge is asleep and we have to be at Bible study in about 45 minutes. Probably ought to feed the wee ones before we head out. I'll see y'all tonight!

Dy

Whoa, what's up with Blogger?

Commenting has become an entire computer-time activity all its own! I've noticed it on other blogs, and have heard from y'all that it's difficult here, too. I've also noticed the new comment format- wonder if the two are related? Weird. Anyway, for those who have the fortitude to leave comments, thanks. :-) Y'all keep me smiling with your wit and anecdotes. And if you have pretty much given up on trying to leave comments, I understand. Hopefully the problem will be addressed soon.

Dy

Beautiful things

OK, first off, I have to say that I'm not the person to invite to a Longaberger party, and I don't own a single wall sconce or silk floral arrangement (other than those hideous poinsetta things we inherited from my Mother, but as soon as James is looking the other way, they're outta here!) I just don't get a big thrill from collecting things to dust, spend money on, or clutter up my house. So, knowing that about me...

Imagine my absolute delight when I saw the beautiful journals Samantha is creating over at The Home Realm! She posted a few samples of the work she had done, and I was simply, immediately enamoured with them. They're useful and lovely. Granted, I have a deep and abiding addiction to, erm, appreciation for fine stationery and the written word. If you can combine the two in a beautiful fashion, you have my attention. Samantha has done that with her journals.

Then, if you're not all imagined out, imagine my giddiness upon receiving one from Samantha, herself! She asked me what theme I would like, and I asked for one of mountains. Specifically, mountains out west, which are quite different from the ones out east, and that is the one physical feature I miss the most.

Not long after that conversation, here is what found its way to me:

She claims she doesn't do nature scenes well, but look at these!! The images on the inside pages are light enough that I can write on the page (even in pencil) and they don't interfere, but they bring a delighted smile every time I open my journal.

Here is the cover. The writing is from Psalms and says, "God has made my feet like deer's feet, and sets me upon high places..."

Now, if this journal looks green to you, please let me know. It looked right on my computer, but when I uploaded it to Photobucket, it morphed. The cover is a gorgeous buckskin tan with a deep forest green overlay. To do it justice, I needed morning light, but it's winter in the mid-Atlantic region and we just don't get "morning light" for photos right now.

I've been using it for my prayer journal, keeping track of requests and praises. James has confiscated it more than once, and he loves to keep it in his personal library. He fell in love with it, and asked me the day it arrived if it could be a "Mommy and James Journal". I thought he meant for me to write about us in it, but no, he wanted to be able to write in it, too. "It's beautiful," he whispered, as he traced the designs.

Ah, well now, I can't argue with that kind of logic, can I?

If you are looking for a nice gift for the writer on your list, or for the fine paper products addict you know and love, please contact Samantha about getting one of these. They would make a lovely stand-alone gift (with a personal inscription on the inside front cover), or would be the ultimate foundation to a writing basket or gift bag.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

What You Can Accomplish

No, still no deep blogging. I tried to blog two and a half hours ago, but something had gone horribly awry with my ISP, I think, and the computer refused to believe it was online.

SO, I quit procrastinating (which, incidentally, was not on this year's list of goals) and cleaned the computer desk. I don't mean I dusted and tidied. I mean I dumped every single drawer. Zorak took the big, nasty one out back and shook it out. We sorted, filed and flung. Every piece of paper, every stray CD-ROM, every lurking paper clip- all are home and happy now. The desk is happy now. I had no idea I had a package of blank note cards! WooHoo!

Really, you should never give a room a cleaning, because if you do, then you will find things that belong elsewhere. And when you put those things away, you will find that their homes need a cleaning, too. And that will lead to rediscovering the paper shredder, which will cause you to keep looking for things to shred. And once you've shredded all the incriminating documents, you'll feel ready to run for office. And you'll decide you need to be on the school board, because after all, it's your Village, too. And when you decide to run for office, the papers will want to interview you. So you'll have to give at least one room a good cleaning.

Yes, I do not recommend that you ever give a room a cleaning.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Realtor Rant 2/19- A Breakthrough?

We met with the realtor yesterday morning. She'd found the info on the XYZ house, and we were quite excited.

The alternator on the Suburban gave up as we topped out the Big Scary-Ass Bridge. (We knew it was coming, but were hoping to ignore it until payday.) So when we met with her, we explained that we were running only on battery power and would not be able to view all three homes she had lined up for us to see.

Her: (biting her lower lip and furrowing her brow) Hmmm... Welllll, hmmmm, let's see.

I braced myself.
Zorak started to chuckle.
I slapped his knee.
He slapped my knee.
We engaged in a silly knee-slapping war while she sat there, contemplating.

Her: (perking up visibly) OK, well, if we can only see two, *exhale* then we need to see the best two on the list.

Can you see it all from where you're sitting? It's not in slow-motion, but in full-out 1980's John Cusack self-deprication mode...

*bang, bang, bang*, my head against the dashboard.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Oh, the HUMANITY!!!

There, feel better? That's what I did- in my head. But on the outside, I turned to Zorak for moral support, for him to take the lead.

He ignored me and pretended to tap the gauges, still chuckling. (He saw that coming, didn't he?)

ONCE MORE, from the top. Everybody, on the count of three, say it with me!
the. one. we. requested. is. the. one. for. us. to. see.
First.
If necessary, it is the only one for us to see.
But do not, I repeat, DO NOT leave it off the list in favor of smaller, re-carpeted, more expensive boxes on the list.

She sighed. She grimaced. She compared the three printouts and grimaced some more. (I'm starting to think this is physically hurting her.) She acquiesced.

(Boy, was I ever glad, as we didn't have the juice left in the Suburban for my next plan of attack: chase her all over the County, screaming out the windows, "We want a shack! We want a shack!")

So, we looked at it.

It's infested with mice- they've eaten the bottom two inches off the cabinets.

Window seals are broken so the view, as seen through them, is a hazy dew-coated mirage.

The carpet looks like gypsies camped there over the winter.

One of the skylights leaks ferociously and seems to be fostering the always-fun-and-educational Chia-Roof Ceiling concept. (Zorak assures me there is a huge difference between a Chia Roof and a Chia Ceiling- this house has the latter.)

Something very bad took place in the living room. As long as the police have been notified, I'm good with that.

The list goes on.

Except for being a little far from Zorak's work (which is so not an issue at this point!) it is, in a word, perfect!

Now, though, the key is to figure out how much Dude*, and others of his persuasion, are going to bid for it. We are hoping to find that sweet spot: below full-market fixed-up value, but more than it'd be worth for Dude to dump into it and hope to get a profit after he fixes it up. Anybody want to take a stab at the profit margin for something like this? We're open for suggestions!

After the first hour of us poking around the house and taking notes, the clouds parted and the angels sang. Our realtor actually said, "Yeah, you know, this wouldn't be bad." She stopped trying to usher us out the door to the next box. She quit trying to play down the ugliness (and beauty) of the structure's condition. For the first time, she seemed to be able to look at this house through our eyes and see what we've been trying to explain. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I'd give two thousand words for one good walk-through. I don't think she'll be trying to show us any more 900 square foot trailers in the "200K and up range" anymore.

HALLELUJAH!

So, yeah, that's it for now. Will have an update on Tuesday about a few things. Kinda nervous. Kinda happy. Quite thrilled to know we won't have to sell this realtor to the gypsies. It's all good.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

*Dude*- pet name for the rude guy who walked in on the showing, wearing the orange down vest and $300 work boots with the toothpick protruding from the corner of his mouth, an "investor," who supposedly has an "in" with another realtor and knows the lingo, but didn't bother to admit to a breech of ettiquette until after he'd seen the entire structure. May his level leak and his angles be off by just enough to not be able to fudge them anymore.

A long talk, a busy day, a wonderful family

The boys and I didn't start out quite on the right foot this morning. When things finally erupted into a Picasso-Mensch like combo snapshot of screaming and crying and one-eyed creatures with no ears... it was time for a talk.

I brought the boys downstairs, set them to lunch at the table. Then I tended to the bumps and bruises which had precipitated the screaming and crying. (John had managed to mangle himself quite nicely by jumping on my bed after I'd come downstairs to prepare lunch... after I'd ushered him out of my room on the way.) So, no sympathy because you got hurt while disobeying me, but I will check for actual damage or injuries that need tending to, and remind you that I love you, yes, even when you've made bad choices.

Then I took a d-e-e-p breath.

I exhaled.

The boys stared at me, obviously disquieted.

And we talked in depth about tomato staking (well, deep when you're six and four). We talked about how Mommy's job is to guide them and prepare and look after them, always, with the hope that one day they'll be big tomatoes themselves and capable of looking after their own garden. (We had a slight swerve off course as they asked questions about gardens, greenhouses, and whether we can get a tomato worm. I've gotta back off the analogies a little.)

Back on track (mostly, but they really would like a tomato worm), I apologized for having not done it as consistently as I ought to. I explained that I'll be more diligent about that now, because I love them and they deserve that. They are my precious little ones (NOT going into baby plants at this point- I have a brief window for focus, and it's closing fast by now), and I want to help them learn to have a safe and wonderful home.

They still looked a bit skeptical about where this was all heading.

We talked about staying together in one room at all times for a while, within eyesight of Mommy, much as we do when we are out and about. We talked about the importance of obedience and that Mommy is simply not going to ask them to do something that is against what is Right. Nor, for the record, is she purposfully going to bring a tomato worm into the house (have you seen those things? *gag!*) but we can plant tomatoes this year and if they find one, they can have it. Outside.

The rest of the day went quite well, including a trek to the County Courthouse (where you cannot take a cell phone or a camera, although that's not posted on the building, and you will be asked to trek back the two blocks to the car to unload them before they will let you in, yes, even if it's below freezing, and no, they won't watch them for you, but yes, they will answer your curious children's gazillion questions about how all this stuff works- so, eh, I'm good with that), back to the S-s-s-suburban, back to the C-c-c-courthouse (where another security guard gave the first two a hard time for making us go back out in the cold for a phone), to the market, and finally home again to snuggle and read a bit.

I actually used the "outlast them" philosophy today, as described on the now-famous Tomato Staking website while we were at the market. The boys are generally outstanding in public, but at the end of an already long day, it's easy to lose focus. I was amazed at how much impact there is in simply saying, "Wow. Well, you know how to walk down an aisle with the basket, and that wasn't it. Let's back up and do it again, please." At first, you think you accidentally said it in Pig Latin, based on the blank looks you get. Then you smile and head back the way you just came, and they realize, wow, she's serious. So they re-do it. Properly. Cool.

It IS that easy. No yelling. No screaming. Simply convey the message that you know they know what's expected and y'all both know that wasn't what was expected. Pfft. How stinkin' simple is that? I, for one, was surprised. There was not another incident at the market.

Zorak had to work late. Then he didn't. Then he might. But he didn't. We weren't expecting him home until after bedtime, and it was a wonderful surprise to have him pop in the door at five! Doubly wonderful was that supper was simmering, the children were clean and happy, and he came home to a welcoming environment and fresh coffee. Sometimes fate is kind, no?

Enjoy your home on this cold night, and your family. Tuck them a little more tightly when they're sleeping, but when they're wide wake give them tons of lovin's and kiss those babies!
~Dy

PS- I'll post the house hunt posts separately so if you don't want to bother with them, they'll be easy to spot. Today's Realtor Rant is below. :-)

Realtor Rant 2/18

So today I talked with the Realtor. The conversation went something like this:

Her: So, since you're willing to look at that one lousy place on this side of the river that's way out of your original price range (you know, the one with 2000 square feet and a lot of work you could do yourself), I've gone and found you two on the other side of the river that are virtually new and need no work at all! And the best part is that they're less expensive that the one on this side! (By, erm, $2k)

Me: (registering the fact that both of the two "great finds" she's pushing are also well under 1000 square feet and are pretty well maxed out on their improvement potential) So, yeah, what about the one I emailed you about? What's the story on that?

Her: *pause* The one on XYZ street? Oh, that's a repo. It needs a lot of work.

Me: Yes. It's been repo'd twice. It's probably trashed. I want to look at it.

Her: I think it's also old.

Me: Well, you know how we've mentioned that we'd rather upgrade a property ourselves... *pause for verbal confirmation that never comes* we think this could be along those lines. Plus, the taxes on it are lower than the other two you're mentioning. And this one's over 1400 square feet. A 1400 square foot home in great condition is really quite expensive.

Her: *laughs* Yeah, it is.

Me: And this one is not in great condition. But we could fix that. So, do you see where I'm heading with this?

Her: OK, so do you want me to look it up?

Me: That would be great. Thanks. And we'd like to look at it. In person. You know, walk in and see it. When can we do that?

Her: Um... So, I think you'll really like these other two. Do you want me to meet you at the one on ABC street at, say, eleven tomorrow? *she's starting to sound suspiciously like the voice response system at Wells Fargo, and that system was a huge reason to change banks*

Me: Why don't you see if we can see the repo first and then email me the itinerary.

Her: I think you're just going to love these two I've found for you!

Me: *making static noises* I think I'm heading into a bad area. I can't...you...Charles. *more static noises* Call... later? K. Bye!

*beep*

James: Mommy, are you choking? Why did you make that noise? Are you okay?

Big Catch Up Blog

Blech. I hate posting these, but just couldn't get to the 'puter to blog the past few days- so, grab a container of your favorite relaxing beverage and come visit.

Today:

We drove to DC today (I emphasize DC because I spent the last week thinking The Kennedy Center was in Baltimore! Woops! *ahem* My apologies to the City Dwellers who know better.) SO, we arrived in DC, just the three of us: James, John and I. We enjoyed a wonderful performance by Balafon, a West African dance and musical troupe. The energy these performers have makes a room full of toddlers look lethargic. Wow. It was a riveting and touching performance, and we all enjoyed it tremendously.

We also got caught in the space-time warp that exists up that way. I can get there in an hour and a half. I cannot get home in less than three and a half hours. Exits I took going up are non-existent heading the other direction. Streets that ran perpendicular to the streets I need suddenly loop around and drop me off in Delaware (or thereabout). Interstates end. Just end. For no apparent reason other than an Eighth Dimesion ripple. Fortunately, I know this will happen, so we stock up on snacks for the ride home. *grin* Made it home without anyone starving to death. Now that's a successful trip.

Smidge hung out with Daddy, who was sick, but offered to keep him anyway so we could go. They had fun. They napped a lot together. That's quality bonding time (and oh, how I wish somebody had snapped a picture! I just love to see Daddies sleeping with their Babies!)

Everyone had a blast, but it was clear when we arrived back home that the family unit is happier as a complete unit. The boys doted on Smidge. Smidge snuggled, wrestled, and laughed non-stop. I basked in the glow of all of us together. Zorak just oozed happiness all over the boys. That was the best part of the day.

***

(If you're tired of house hunting whining, skip to the next set of asterisks...)

It seems we've found another realtor who does not understand that a LOW PRICED two-bedroom shack which is about to fall down smack in the middle of a great neighborhood is right... up... our... alley. We found a little place for way cheap (relatively speaking) last night on the MLS searches- emailed the realtor immediately with a "WE WANT TO SEE THIS OVER COFFEE IN THE MORNING, PLEASE" note. She called to say it's already under contract.

Yeah, seems she saw it come into her office but didn't bother to give us a call because "it's only two bedrooms". What? We are only using two bedrooms now! We've had this discussion. The stacking, the Naval bunk references, the whole beggars can't be choosers thing... remember? That was, what, a week ago! It would take clay to truly recreate the expression. WHAT? Ok, so we couldn't add a third bedroom for the SEVENTY-FIVE THOUSAND DOLLAR DIFFERENCE? *sigh* Guess not.

And you know, this isn't our "forever home" we are looking for here. This is our "investment to cash in on in a couple of years so we can find or build our forever home." I'm okay with a shack. I'm actually hoping for a shack. I just don't want to pay extra for a shack that somebody has put new paint and carpet in, because if that sub-floor needs help or the addition needs adding, we'd rather do it ourselves so that we know it's been done correctly.

Why am I having trouble conveying these concepts?

****

Yesterday:

Yesterday was the wonderful library run! Those are just so much fun. We took Zorak with us, which was great. He hadn't been to the library with the boys before. He generally uses the one on base, which has all the appropriately engineer-like books he usually reads.

I did take advantage of the opportunity to browse the Grown Up section all by my lonesome without that loathesome "Security Officer" lurking about near the kids. (He is, perhaps, the one and only unpleasant thing about that library.) Anyhow, that was surprisingly refreshing!

Does anybody know how to pronounce the "Mma" abbreviation in the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency books? Is that "Mama"? The rest of the pronunciations I've been able to figure out, but that one keeps stumping me. I like to make the right sounds in my head as I read.

Picked up the next three Aubrey books, too. *sigh* *happy sigh*

****

School:

Yesterday the boys both actually begged me to keep reading from Story of the World. They have enjoyed hearing about King Cyrus, the Medes and the Persians. That's a good feeling.

The new schedule is really quite nice, and I have found that we are accomplishing more in less time with the new twist to the morning.

That is about it. Supper tomorrow with some folks from church. We're pretty sure it's a trap, but that's okay. We can always pinch the baby if we need to make a quick get-away. And if it's not, then it should be a lovely evening. :-)

Have a wonderful evening, all!
And Kiss those babies!
~Dy