Bullets!

- Blogging in bullet form feels rather apropos for a Friday. I shouldn't be expected to neatly craft a whole masterpeice theatre (ha- as if that is what I do around here anyway) right before a weekend. That, and my brain is fried... like my toaster oven.

- A toaster oven? Top 5 must-have appliance, in my opinion. Especially if you have kids, but we used it constantly as a childless couple. I don't know why others insist on plain ol' toasters. I can toast a whole sandwich, melting the cheese and making a regular turkey blah sandwich into a mound of melty deliciousness. Can you shove a heap of coldcuts and cheese down your slicey-toaster? No. That would be messy- and probably end in a small house fire.
Never mind the fact that when you're making chicken nuggets for wee ones, you only need to bake a small tray- a four year old isn't hoarking down twenty nuggets- why heat up the whole oven (and the rest of the house, mind you) for ten nuggets? Toaster oven: the only way to go. We've had our current toaster oven for... eight years? It is begging to be send to the happy toaster heaven in the sky for some time now. Surprisingly, it is really difficult to find a decent toaster oven! I am determined to have a new toaster oven by the time we move into New House. (TM)  How much do I want this sweet baby? Sooo much. Can I justify a nearly $300 toaster oven to The Husband? Negative, Goose.

- I trimmed the girls' hair this morning. I've had too many "Super Cuts" experiences in which the "stylist" has simply butchered the kids' locks. I could have done a better job- and I did not attend the Fantastic Sam's 6 week course for beauty school drop outs. I've decided to save twenty bucks and branch out on my own. I can at least get the same to better results hacking it at home. It's not the best job, but it is most certainly free. Hopefully the four year old aesthetic will not mind. The chances are high that at some point- probably in the midst of awkward middle school years- the girls will insist I retire my scissors for good.

It has apparently been dubbed "silly face" day. 

- I am currently restraining myself from using my fantastical hair snipping skills on my own hair. (Bad idea, right? The Husband argues yes. But he isn't exactly volunteering his time to watch the girls while I go to the salon, either) Either way- I am getting a haircut. (this needs to happen more often that once a year) I'm pretty set on bangs. I haven't had bangs since gradeschool. I am 50% sure I will hate them. I just need a change. And I still have my post-pregnancy chipmunk cheeks, so short hair is out of the question. I'm going for the Kelle Hampton look:

image from Enjoying the Smal Things

Cute, right? Love the piggy braids. And the sunglasses. The belt/hat combo? LOVING! And I would kill to have her figure! After two kids? Life is totally not fair, I tells ya! 

- This is turning out to be a little... lengthy. 

- I am currently rocking Army of Freshmen Beg, Borrow, Steal on the ipod. Little Man is waving his chunky little arms to the beat. The girls are upset it isn't Yo Gabba Gabba, and have retreated to the backyard where they can poke potato bugs with sticks. Ah, Army of Freshmen... It takes me back. Oh, the crazy college days when electric keyboards were "making a comeback." ...Or maybe it was just me; that sentence just doesn't sound right. 

- Starting on Monday, I will be in the last and furious days of packing up all our accumulated crap and saying goodbye to our home. It will be bittersweet- there may be a photo montage in the works. Then again, a road construction project has begun recently. It's one of those special middle-of-the-night-so-we-don't-muck-up-traffic jobs. Our house is positively vibrating... the shutters bang and make this loud ruckus... due to the jackhammers at 1am. So I may not be too sad to leave this house after all. 

- I ONLY HAVE ONE WEEK! How are all the drawers and cupboards filled to the brim again? The clutter has got to be multiplying like bunnies. Conversely- I ONLY HAVE ONE MORE WEEK of relative camping in my own home! Wheee! I can wear clothes again! (never pack your clothes and leave yourself with three outfits- mostly comprised of yoga capris and baggy tshirts- before you actually move) 

- In less exciting news: I am at war with the water company. Upon calling to transfer all the utilities to New House, they informed me that I would have to put down a deposit of three hundred big ones (meh, ok)... that they would hold for TWO WHOLE YEARS. (Whaaa?) Apparently my Pay-Bills-Once-A-Month strategy has a downside. The water company has their panties in a bunch because the payments (of like, $10-$20) are not "on-time." Now I have a "bad credit rating" with the annoying water company. And they are going to make me pay big time... to have my water turned on. Communists! I'm taking my business elsewhere! (Except that my family has become... accustomed... to indoor plumbing- drat)

Amnesia for Sanity

In those early days, the vast majority of questions I would get as the mother of twin wee ones was a variation on "How do you do it?!" To me, this was simply an unanswerable inquiry at the time. HOW do I do it? I dunno! It just... happens! I'm tired. I'm cranky, sometimes. Large scale organization and a type A personality helps- but really, I didn't know anything different. The twins were my first foray into parenting. (talk about jumping in head first!) It wasn't until Little Man came along that I really "got" that question. I find that I ask myself the same thing all the time: How did I get through the rough patches of early childhood... with two?

On days like yesterday when I was confined to an itty bitty exam room with a busy 16 mo. old for almost two whole hours, I wondered how I was able to handle two little monkeys without totally losing it. (ok, so I may have had a few... erm "moments" along the way) Somehow I am here... and I'm still a semi-functioning person/parent/wife!

Little Man didn't want to tinker with toys, play patty cake, or any other "baby" activity I offered up as entertainment. Nope, he insisted on sitting and waiting for the doctor in his own chair... reading one of the lame office magazine. It cracked me UP!

There are plenty of times when I am exhausted, the baby is particularly squirmy, and I just don't know how I handled two toddlers like this! Just the one is a total handful!

The landscape has become so much... I hate to call it... easier? Smoother? Different! Now that the girls are walking on their own, can get in and out of the car "all by self," eat more normal non-baby foods in regular dining room chairs, can be left in a room when I'm in another area of the house, no longer require diapers, (they can even go to the potty unassisted!) in general requiring a lower level of constant supervision... oh, it's just peachy! 

It is a tradeoff, as Bunny called me "stupid" the other night when I put her in timeout. Whatever, I can deal with a little name calling. (more timeout for you, mouthy!)

Remember when I was trying to just contain them so I could take a shower? How did I get anything accomplished when I was worried about the girls not just hurting themselves- but wreaking havoc on the ever so conveniently located innocent twin sister? The new order of raising the twins has changed so dramatically. I'm reminded of just how far we've come as I watch Little Man grow. He's such a great baby/toddler, but still... SO MUCH WORK all by himself. 

I guess this is more of a triumphant tale about how it does get easier- I swear. 

When Things Get Crafty

Of course it is in the chaos of living like hobos that I drool over tutorials for things like a Cut Chenille Blanket. Doesn't it just sound heavenly? It looks just as good, too.

(image from Aesthetic Nest)

I start to daydream about fabrics, swatches, prints, colors, textures... mentally redecorating the kids' rooms... thinking about making each child a very special quilt of their very own... 

AND THEN. Well, then I remember that I can't sew. I don't even own a sewing machine. I have never heard of a chenille cutter. Not to mention the fact that I do not have the kind of time I'm imagining would be required to sew three lines, cut in the middle of them... and so on and so forth. I'm pretty sure I would buy lovely, probably pricey fabric, and fold it away... to gather dust on a back shelf. There is no way I could ever finish a project like that. No matter how gorgeous the pictures may be. WHY CAN'T I BE MORE CRAFTY?! WHY?! 

The Chirping! Oh, the CHIRPING.

I am not so much bright eyed nor bushy tailed today. I feel like a sloth, only capable of slow, overly deliberate movements. At 1am, I was awoken to the death call of a battery nearing it's last hours housed in the smoke detector. I'm pretty sure the evil geniuses who produce smoke detectors intentionally made it so they will go off IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. I pushed the button to "silence" the eardrum searing beeps, then went back to bed. As soon as I reached the twilight of consciousness, I was startled once again with the chirp from hell. Seriously, if Satan had a parakeet- THAT is the sound it would make.
Ok, so where are the 9 volt batteries? Oh, let me guess... packed?! Fine! I will go downstairs and rifle through the boxes to find the one with batteries. Sure. Good. Um, honey? All I can find is AA, AAA, C, and a random pack of D batteries. No 9 volts. Didn't we already change one of the chirpers a while ago? (also a fun middle of the night fiasco) Where are those batteries? The Husband denies changing any batteries. This frustrates me to no end... because I have an irrefutable highlight reel in my head that shows him doing just that.

 So... we can't just live with the sound. It's right outside the twins' door. We're running on borrowed time against having to soothe them back to sleep.

Fine. I will march out to the store... at 2am. To buy a four pack of 9 volts- insurance that we are never caught 9 volt-less ever again. The graveyard shift at our local Smith's is hilarious. The cashiers are always chipper, and everyone else in the joint is wearing pajamas. Yep, I see you there in aisle four wearing your nighties. Well, I raise you a mismatched pair of men's sleep pants combined with a Yo Gabba Gabba tour t-shirt- 2 sizes too big... that's just how I roll.

I get home- ready to end this night of insanity. Mama needs her beauty sleep, biznatches. I slammed a replacement in and stared down the circular appliance. A few moments of tense silence... then, CHIRP!

That's when I burst into tears and begged "Why is this happening?!" The Husband tried to disassemble the detector... note to self: need a handier husband that knows what's what about home repair and maintenance- current husband is useless.

After a while of banging our heads against the wall, we figured out it was not the smoke detector emitting the harrowing alarm. It was the CO2 detector plugged into the wall right next to us. The smoke detector had been FRAMED. The CO2 meter, the appliance charged with keeping us all from dying in our sleep was the culprit! I yanked that darned beeper out of the socket so fast! I'm surprised it is still in one piece, ripped open the back, and shoved a battery in. (cause I had three spares!)

... and then I couldn't go back to sleep! Stupid adrenaline!

Good thing I have this deliciousness to wake up to: 

And it rained today. So that's something... something quite pleasant.

Guess Where It Is!

At the beginning of this moving (then not moving... then moving again) adventure, I packed up all that I deemed a "non-necessity" and stored it away in what was our storage unit- the entire contents of which is now piled in the garage.
My first thoughts? Look at all the stuff we can do without! How pleasingly minimalist of us! Twiddlie Dee! Twiddlie Day! Pack, pack! Vrrrrip! (the sound the tape machine makes)

Now, on week three of living-without-most-of-our-possessions, I am getting a little tired of raining on the twins parade. You see, every day, about a million times, I get asked a question. And the conversation goes something like this:

Sweet Doe Eyed Girls: I wanna play with tutus!

Meanie Monster Mother: Um, no. Those are... packed.


Innnocent Little Children: Can we please color?

Evil Dictator: No. The crayons are... packed.




Adorable Munchkins: I want to watch Harry Potter Movie!

Wicked Witch of the West: Sorry, the Harry Potter movies were... packed.


I have effectively sucked the life out of our house. There is no more joy, no more play. Just... a bunch to endless hours of DVR'd PBS.

Seriously, people! I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS! 

Now I feel quite like an unhappy hipster.

Practically June

It's not June enough for the rental to be ready... (stewing) but it is June enough for the weather to be hovering around a hundred freaking degrees. How I wish I was exaggerating that.. No. Instead this week decided to throw a curve ball, and I woke up to breezy, almost chilly, mid-50's outside my window. (cue the squealing) I even broke my not! opening! any! boxes! mandate. I dug around and pulled out a couple hoodies... then whisked the littles off to the park!

It was time to squeeze every last gleeful moment out of winter.

It was one of those days when things become a little more rose-colored. When I can appreciate my kiddos for the amazing rays of light and awesomeosity they are. 

You know? If living in this infernal desert was more like this all year long, I might even enjoy living here!

Ill Advised

- It's not a good idea to try and write with a migraine. I had a post perculating about the tattoo issue, but my head was throbbing, and the kitchen was swirling around me. Not the best time to try and crank out a masterfully written bit of literature. I apologize. Um... nevermind, then! I can't find that post anywhere now. Man- was I really that out of it?!

- I've been super spacey lately. Lacking any motivation... mostly sluggish. I'm unsure if this is due to some sort of virus? Or perhaps the decision to go off some meds I'd been on. Either way? Feel like crap.

- I got really tired of buying Pull Ups for the girls to sleep in. So I decided we just... wouldn't buy them any more. It has been two days and only one accident between the two girls. I call that a resounding success! It's insanely liberating to know I don't have to worry about the Pull Up count in our house. Now I turn my potty training prowess onto Little Man. A diaperless future? Dare I dream?!

- During a conversation with my Momma, the topic of what I had left to pack came up. Hrm. I think I have everything packed up and ready to go? Except when I open cabinets- cabinets that were once bare? They are filled with STUFF! How did this happen? Where did all this stuff come from? So I guess I need to get packing... again?

- Little Man's eczema has made a couple reappearances. I am stumped. I suppose an allergist is in order. We did find that ironically, Little Man is highly sensitive to the one and only stain remover that really works on the stubborn stains like spaghetti sauce and results of blowout diapers- Oxi Clean Booster Packs. So I have to wash his laundry twice, once with the Oxi Clean, then the other without. If I don't do this? His skin will light on fire.

- We got an offer on the house! Oddly enough the guy who put in the offer did so without seeing the house first. Just decided he wanted it from the pictures! (granted, my pictures were spectacular) His realtor called the other day, just as I was settling into no longer showing the house, and asked if his client could come by and evaluate the condition of the property. (deep breaths!) I sure hope he liked it, cause it's looking like he just bought it!

- I have fallen off my diet and exercise routine. Like jumping off a steep cliff. Instead of cooking- which is nearly impossible anyway without dishes, utensils, and measuring cups- we are eating take out pretty much daily. And I just feel like having a giant chocolate milkshake much more often than is normal- or healthy. Dang it! Welcome back, 15 lbs. I'm sure the other 5 lbs. is on its way!

Have a lovely weekend! I intend on spending mine getting a pedicure... and other girly fun stuff.

If I Ever

Sure, it's probably odd how much thought I have put into a tattoo I will never get. But it's fun to think about! What things have such meaning to me that I would want them permanently scarred into my body, and what sort of symbolism I would use to express these concepts. I love the idea of a tattoo. However, I am none too excited about unnecessary pain- and no matter how lovely the tattoo may be- there is stigmatism attached with those who have them. So I will probably never get a tattoo myself. It's better to just keep it in my little box of things I think about often. If I were to get a tattoo right here, right now...

I would get a DNA helix. Like that up there. Except that helix is also a jungle gym

- how cool is that? 

So cool.

Ok, so why a DNA model? 

Well the DNA structure is a pretty neat image in and of itself. Plus it is a quite literal symbol of connection, family, heritage, etc. AND! The first initial of my kids first names are the same as three of the four bases of the DNA itself: 

brush up on your long forgotten high school biology!

To complete the helix, I would need to have another baby and name it something that starts with a "T." I'm just not that dedicated to the cause. 

If you were to get a tattoo, what would it be of, and what would it represent?

I love watching tattoo shows, like LA Ink and other such nonsense- mostly because I love listening to the stories the images represent to that person. Enough to carry them on their skin forever. It's quite a commitment, one that I respect. (I'm shy of commitment, another reason I am tattoo-free) 

A small visitor... and stop motion bad mothering

The ladybugs have congregated in our backyard to throw their version of Woodstock. The grass is positively brimming with black and red polka dots. This, of course, delights the girls to pieces.

Upon rescuing a little ladybug from being trampled by a scampering toddler, the girls felt it necessary to pull up and chair and chat endlessly with the visiting bug... who I'm sure was having quite a big day.

This soiree in the backyard was the highlight of some parenting moments I am none too proud of: 

After eating a couple handfuls of dirt...

... he decided to try his luck at scaling the planter...

... which was decidedly successful...

... until it wasn't.

Checking on the Limes

I am actually growing something more than flowers! These things are edible! I've always dreamed of growing my own produce, picking my own cilantro from the back porch and sprinkling it over tacos. But then I remember I live in a harsh, unforgiving desert. And well... I'm terrible at remembering to water, trim, or in any way care for a plant. Luckily, The Husband hooked up a dripper to a couple pots. Guess which plants fared well... and which are now just pots with dirt that the kids dig around in? Yes. Luckily, lemons are relatively easy to care for- and I have remembered to feed them the special citrus food for three consecutive months so far!

The girls and I have gotten entirely caught up in lime-fever. We've had the lemon tree for a couple years, but the blooms have never been pollenated properly. (one year I tried to do it myself with a paintbrush- fail)  This year we have an influx in bees for some reason and they loved the lemon tree. Loved it. Pollenated almost all of the flowers, and now we have around ten little limey looking lemons growing.

There is a daily lime watch in effect at our house. And it is freaking magical, yo.

The Husband gets all huffy when I reference them as "limes." They are lemons. That are green. And look suspiciously like limes. 

I have been assured the little sprouts will turn yellow... eventually.

Weekend Recap

Saturday I took The Husband to see the rental house. He approved. Since things were already decided by that point, the opinion was rendered moot. My dear, sweet husband, he lets me make all the big life decisions unilaterally.  This may be why our marriage works at the end of the day; I get my way. (love him!) The Husband tags along. (free marriage advice! What a deal!) So we signed the papers on the new digs, and I went full speed ahead into Space & Decor Planning Mode. (use your ominous announcer voice for that last part) I am sketching out the general floorplan and playing with furniture placement. There are four different scenarios for the downstairs. When we move... you know, in an eternity from now... June, I WILL BE READY to direct the flow of traffic as movers with couches come flooding in. Control freak, much? Yes.

I'm still undecided as to what to do with the downstairs den. It's closed off with double doors, right next to the family room, and we are already establishing a playroom upstairs. So... what do we put in the den? Make it into an office? Perhaps I will store all the power cords there, but I quite like sitting at the kitchen island typing away. The kids have also become accustomed to the appearance of adult supervision as I zone out on the laptop. Do we need two playrooms? I do like the idea of shutting the doors and hiding all the brightly colored plastic playthings when I have company. But really? Two entire rooms dedicated to the storage of toys? Seems a little to generous. There's also the idea to make the den into a TV room. It would be nice, as I'm unsure if our family room furniture will obstruct the flow of the house if actually placed in the family room. (Welcome to our home! Try not to stumble over the coffee table!) But then the kids would be unable to watch Team UmiZoomi over their pancakes in the morning. I'm not sure if that's gonna fly.
What it will most likely turn into is a room full of boxes I have not unpacked. Geez, that's depressing.

There's also the problem with... (a hushed silence descends upon the smoky back room) ALL THE CARPET. I have a rather large, rather expensive, rather gorgeous, wool rug. One of my special finds I picked up for a mere $100, tucked between cheapo rugs at a model home furniture sale. I will never let this rug go; Because it's worth a ton of money- and I got it for a song! I've always been an anti-rug-atop-carpet person. Rugs are for hard surface flooring- like tile- or ideally hardwoods. Should I bend my rigid belief system and put the rug on top of the carpet? OH, THE AGONY.


Then onto Mother's Day: 


Mother's Day kinda sucked around here. Late Saturday evening, I started to suspect that I was succumbing to a cold. My predictions were right. I was sick. As was Bunny, Squirt, and Little Man. Oh joy. The only one left unscathed was The Husband. Poor guy, catering to four whiny zombies. It wasn't a great Mother's Day for him either. So Mother's Day has been rescheduled to next weekend. (go get some discount Mother's Day cards while you still can!)

And Also The Boy:

I may have forgotten to mention! We're paying special attention to Little Man as of late. After his 15 mo. check up, the doctor asked how he was walking and talking. Walking? Check! And double check! More like running in an extremely unstable manner!
Talking? Not so much. Well how much? Um, not at all? He shakes his head "no." And he grunts in slightly different fashions for "can I have this thing I'm pointing at?" along with "you have angered me and must suffer the consequences," and finally: "pick me up... now, woman!"

This bothered the doc. He's apparently supposed to have words coming out of his adorable little mouth by now? Like "Mama," "No," "More," etc? The pediatrician checked his ears and noticed they were inflamed, (I blame the half hour of body quaking screams at being weighed, measured, and examined by a nurse) I was handed a prescription to decided to try antibiotics. The idea is that he can't hear due to a pretty out of control ear infection. I have my doubts on this diagnosis- but I'd like this to be the case anyway. Because it's an easy fix. Other possible culprits? Not so much.

Ok, now I must go back to my living room sketches. Happy Monday to y'all!

Rambling about Real Estate- My Apologies

It's true, I have been avoiding the blog. The events of the past week have rendered me near speechless. (Speechless! Me!) We've been scrambling to find a new rental- a situation that has been in constant flux each day. We've been dealing with a man who had us sign a lease on his house, then have the house auctioned off before we moved in. He took our hefty deposit, and we are still in the process of wrangling it back from him. It may get nasty. On top of this? We got an offer on the house! Remember? We're selling our house at the same time? Yes. Out of twenty scheduled showings, only 6 actually showed up... none of whom were on time. The average length of lateness was about an hour. None of the showings I thought went particularly well. In a lot of instances there was a language barrier. I didn't have much hope that these lukewarm showings would produce an offer- but lo and behold! My realtor is demanding all sorts of paperwork be printed, signed, scanned and emailed back. (a process made harder by the fact that I had already packed our printer) It sounds like the sale might actually happen! Happy sadness.

When we came up with this cockamamie plan to sell our house and move, I kind of expected all the tiles to fall into place. That our house would sell just as we found the perfect rental house, and everything would be flowers and roses... that's not how it's been going. No. It has been fighting a tide current to get anything planned out and in place. The perfect rental? I'm confident in saying- IT DOEN'T EXIST.

At one point I posted a question to my Super Amazing Facebook Friends: Downsize and save a ton of money, or blow the budget on a single story palatial estate of my dreams?

(surprisingly, my friends are pretty level headed- the majority said "save." I would have said "splurge!" I'm always up for other people to spend their money)

It was a hard decision. But the one story with gorgeous hardwoods, granite counters, and a lap pool in the backyard got the boot. We opted instead for a cozy home that will fit our family nicely, is owned by a couple we can trust- a friend of a friend- and it will do just fine.

Except that my inner snob is having a hissy fit. There is no granite. I haven't lived with laminate counters... in years! Hold me- I'm scared. There is also carpet... everywhere. Granted it is nice plushy carpet- But it's even in THE DINING ROOM. Heaven help me.

So why did I go ahead with this house? It's slightly larger than our house now. It has four bedrooms PLUS a den. It is WAAAAY below budget. And, contrary to the rest of the rental market out there, has been well taken care of. (seriously, we looked at one house that appeared to have been wiped down by a dirty rag... and there was something that looked like feces on the walls. No joke)

Really- I should have no qualms with this house. I should be over the moon about finding a good, stable situation. Well, I am. It's just that pesky inner snob doubts how I will fare without my granite and stainless steel. I suppose if these are my only problems on this house- It's the right place for us.

Now we have to hold out until we can move in... in June. Which seems like forever and a day away. I'm pretty firm on NOT unpacking ANY boxes. This is difficult.

You know what else I have to accomplish this week? Yep, you guessed it! Shoe shopping for the twins! The bi-yearly struggle to find cute shoes... and two of the same size which always ends up being impossible. Yep. Doing that again. Never thought I would cringe at the idea of shoe shopping.

Stalled

How long can we survive with all the kids toys, most of their clothes, and my kitchen necessities packed up in the garage? I suppose only time will tell!