Zombie Proofing The House

In today's installment of "My Kids Are Weird" I'm going to tell you my boys' first reaction to their new home which was, "We'd never survive a zombie attack in this house. There are way too many doors and windows!!" They then spent the next 10 minutes scouting out appropriate shelter/hiding spots in case the zombies converged even before we managed to get the moving trucks unloaded. I had no idea my kids were so worried about zombies.

Of course, it has been made clear to me in the past few days (while being trapped in the car with the boys for hours and hours and hours) that I have zero understanding of how their brains work. Even 8 year old Havoc thinks bizarre thoughts that I would never, ever just happen to think. As Havoc floated dreamily in the hotel pool the other afternoon he said, "You know what would really suck? Drowning in your own blood." Uh, yeah. Ok. And ick!

I'd worry more except they are all in great moods. I keep checking in with them, making sure they know we're not to busy to talk. I've cut each one of them out of the herd a couple of times to see if the good mood is a mob mentality kind of phenomenon - but it doesn't seem to be. They all have healthy appetites and have been kinder with each other than normal. They are having fun puttering in their rooms, arranging miniatures and computer parts. Bug and Chaos do want to paint their room black. Mayhem and Havoc want the airplane decals off their walls. Joey and Thaxton want to stay. The biggest thing on their wants and needs list? All of them want me to hurry up and find a different place for the old table. Currently it's blocking their only access to the best zombie proof closet.
Boys!
Peace.

Landing

Goodbye old house! This is the crew we traveled with (minus my mom, second from the right - next to Chaos in the back row - she and VBGF's mom were there to see us off.) Who's Who - (L-->R) Thaxton*, Bug, Joey*, Mayhem, Uncle Richard, Marmie (my mom), Chaos - then SH, Wasabi, Havoc above him, Me, VBGF. Is now a good time to say that I'm tired of using initials? Names are so much easier. Will it confuse you terribly to switch to Linus and Bet instead of SH and VBGF? I'll write a new thing for the sidebar soon, really my poor blog is long overdue for it, but it will have to wait. First I must deforest the cardboard jungle that is currently growing in my new home. See?
Bikes. In the library. Hmmmm. Not a good long-term plan I think. Upside down couch. Difficult to sit upon. Must. Rethink. Library.

Cook? Can you even see the fridge? Not sure we'll be making home-cooked meals anytime soon. Yet, I can't believe we brought even more cardboard into the house by ordering pizza!

Here we are! Homeowners! Bet, Linus, and Lilymane (me). Do you see our one key? One. key. For a family of eight - in a house that has FOUR doors. (I will not say bad things about the previous owners. I will not say bad things about the previous owners. I will not ...)
This is a bumper sticker we saw in the parking lot of the closing attorney's office. I had already decided I liked these people when I saw "Coexist" on one car, something funny and anti-Bush on another, and two HRC stickers, but when Linus saw the one above, he said he was never living anywhere else. (And if you don't understand it, it's ok - it's a Dungeons and Dragons (or general d20 RPG) reference.)

I suppose I'd best get up and dig into some of those boxes!
Peace.

*Thaxton and Joey are both only children who have been friends with my kids for years (five years? four?) They are part of the junior troll boy contingent who game(d) at the house every Wednesday night. When we moved I told both of their mothers that I wanted visitation rights. They are such good sports! They agreed to let their boys move with us for the first week. We have to send them back on Sunday but it has been such an incredible help to have them with us. Aside from the fact that they have hauled more than their fair share of stuff in and out of U-haul trucks, they are helping my boys set up their rooms, explore the new neighborhood, and adjust without losing their friends. They are more precious than gold to me.

It's The Little Things That Get You

Despite the fact that I have been fixing to move for well nigh three months now, it's a whole different thing to actually BE MOVING. There is a part of me that just hasn't caught up. (This is the exact same part of me that opened the skinny middle desk drawer into my pregnant tummy twelve times a day while I was carrying Chaos. It didn't matter that 99.999% of my brain was obsessed with being pregnant, having a baby, thinking about the baby, etc. That .001% was not only not obsessed with my pregnancy but it actively refused to make any allowances whatsoever.)

Yesterday morning VBGF and I went to the convenience store next to the hotel to buy some Dramamine for Havoc. (Havoc, bless his heart, had puked the minute he got out of the car the night before.) The chewable Dramamine comes in small, one dose packets. I picked one up and then said to VBGF, "I know he only needs the one dose for today since we'll only be in the car for a couple of hours, but do you think I should get another one to have on hand for the drive back?" She gave me a funny look and said, "Drive back? This is a move." RIGHT. Move. Not vacation. Not a visit. A permanent move. To another state.

The slow fraction of my brain hates being caught out. For a moment all was shaky and a little teary. Then there was some mental wagon circling and some internal cluckings of "There, there" and "It'll be alright." The rest of me got back in the driver's seat. I think we're all onboard now - slow bits and all. I'm hoping we're even all buckled up, because this next part is a doozie. Closing. In an hour. With crazy* people involved. Cross those fingers!!
Peace.

*I know, I know. Pot, kettle and all that. But really, these folks (<-- our sellers) are a piece of work. I would avoid all of Chicago if I were you because that's where they live now! Travel to the Windy City at your own risk.

Mid Point

Greetings from East Asheville! We're a traveling circus - we have four adults, six mostly teenage boys, a dog, two U-Haul trucks (one of them towing my 12 year old Rodeo), and two VW's all trekking east on I-40. Our closing took about 10 minutes (and most of that was chat!) Our realtor gave us a huge canvas bag stuffed with goodies. She laughed and said she tried to put some healthy stuff in there. Her ratio? 40 lbs of junk topped with a two peanut butter crackers and a token bag of trail mix. I think we'd gone about thirty miles before all of the cookies, the M&M's, the jelly beans, and one of the peanut butter crackers were gone. The trail mix and the vitamin fortified water bottles were all that was left. Yep - Lindy the listing agent rocks the house!! Smartest gal on the planet! What else can I say about someone who sells my house in two days and then gives me the perfect present to appease a car full of teenage stomachs??

Poor Robbie the Realtor on the other side. She is working probably four times as hard for not nearly so much joy. We will all breathe a huge sigh of relief when we get through the closing on the new house. The people selling us our new house are ... crazy. Like ape shit crazy. From the first week of weird negotiations with them where they ended up not even being able to accept their own offered price, we've known they weren't right. The house is perfect for us or we would have walked away at about the third obstacle. I no longer buy the excuse that they are young, don't know what they're doing, and have stressful jobs in Chicago. Normal people, even young, inexperienced ones with stressful jobs in Chicago can figure this stuff out. I would add that they have their own realtor to help them through the process but I don't know if she's speaking to them anymore.

We knew they wouldn't do any repairs. They have no money. Integrity seems to be in short supply with them too. Emotions, however, they have in spades. They have bitched and whined about how we're taking advantage of them by buying their house at the list price. We have received more than one letter accusing us of "taking advantage of a marketing strategy" by purchasing the home they've been trying to sell for months and months (with several agents and more than one agency). Ok fine. They are crazy, but we can work with crazy for a limited time. Let's just get through this!

We say to them - we hear you, no repairs, but please provide us with the building permits for the work you had done as the inspection shows that there are some code violations which we will need to address. They refused. Not only did they refuse but their response was a "how dare you ask for such a thing" type of letter. They blathered on about how they'd had licensed professionals do the work - NOT day laborers (a strange defense since we'd not even thought of that - we just wanted the papers to cover our butts about the permits). According to our sellers, they'd paid good money (here we were treated to yet another digression about how we had NO IDEA what kind of deal we were getting on the house) and the work was done flawlessly (despite our evil inspector's malicious observations to the contrary). They will not be providing documentation of any description - not even the name of the (supposedly licensed) contractor who did the (provably not flawless) work.

Sometimes I really don't understand how people work. Do they expect us to believe what they say even when it makes no sense? Do they have friends who listen sympathetically to their woes and say, "There, there. Your buyers are just whacked. It will all be over soon"? That's all neither here nor there. We have in writing what we need legally to cover ourselves. Our inspector gave us detailed instructions on what needs to be done to make everything right. We're ready to close and be done with these jokers.

Then on Friday our realtor lets us know that there's a teeny, tiny little problem that affects them, not us, and as far as she knows we are still set to close on Wednesday morning. This infitesimally small issue turns out to be nothing other than a LIEN against the house, a dispute with the neighbors, and a pending court case. Poor Robbie had to tell us (yet again) that she's never had anything like this happen in her 20+ years in real estate. It's the third never-before-seen thing these people have achieved. I think it is a remarkable act of faith that we launched ourselves out on this journey with so little assurance of a successful end. Granted, we hadn't many options considering our homelessness as of 8:30 a.m. yesterday. Might as well launch and hope for the best, eh? Of course it wouldn't hurt if all of you out there, my lovely internet friends, would hope for the best for us too! Maybe that will tip the cosmic scales and the universe will allow Wednesday to proceed without a hitch. A girl can dream, can't she?
Peace.

In The Midst

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear SH, happy birthday to you.
Nothing like getting lost in the moving shuffle! We did celebrate - and mostly his present is the PS3 he's had since December - but it was a bit "Oh, hey, it's your birthday. Have some cookie and let's talk about moving some more!"

Monday. We leave Monday morning. It might not seem quite so overwhelming if I didn't have a wedding to go to on Saturday. And not just any wedding - it's one of those where the save the date cards went out last summer. It's in South Carolina. I know! I leave tomorrow to drive 10 hours to South Carolina, go to the wedding on Saturday, drive 10 hours back on Sunday - help finish the packing up, sell the house, and drive 500 miles back to NORTH Carolina on Monday. C-R-A-Z-Y! But that's the way we're going to do it.

Recently I saw the PODS commercial where the people stand by and all their stuff marches itself into the storage container. I made some comment about how wouldn't that be nice if it would all just load itself - and the response I got was that from my perspective that's exactly what will happen. Right! Lucky me! Only I'm OCD enough that the thought that people will be moving my stuff around while I'm gone completely stresses me out!!!! Oh well!

Likely I won't blog from the wedding or from the in transit portion of the move! Next you hear from me I hope to be able to thrill you with fascinating accounts of ...unpacking. Woo hoo!
Peace.

Trust

I'm not sure if it came through clearly in my catch-up post, but SH has not seen the new house. That's right. Him no see house. He had just returned to TN when we found it. Blithely he had said as he was leaving, "Let's put an offer on [the house we'd seen three times] unless you find one that trumps it. We've seen enough houses together that I'd trust you on that." I'm pretty sure he did not think we'd find a clear trump. After all, we'd looked at 20 something houses already. No other even close contenders. We talked a little bit about the feasibility of him dashing back for a look see. It went like this: "Feasible? Not so much." No more time off from work to drive, no more money for plane tickets, no reassurance that waiting wouldn't lose us the house because the price reduction might bring in competing offers, etc. So this amazing man said, "Go ahead." He is buying a home sight unseen - incidentally committing to a 30 year mortgage in the process - based on what VBGF and I could tell him (and show him through pictures). That is a boatload of trust and love. It is humbling and wonderful and I just had to point it out. I'd like to think that I could have done the same thing if our positions had been reversed. My love for him is boundless and my trust in him is immense. It's just never been put to the test. I'm trying not to feel too pressured by it, but damn - I hope he likes the house when we get there!
Peace.

A Month Of Sundays

Happy Fathers' Day to all the dads out there! Here at Lilymania, we are going to play catch up while the man of the house snoozes. (He and Bug - his first born and also the only child at home this weekend- stayed up until the wee sma's playing PS3, so it may be quite some time before they awaken.) The plan was to make the Dad Of The House a lovely breakfast - until we realized we'd packed up the kitchen and the oven won't be fixed until Wednesday! Plan B: IHOP.

News:
Who knew that selling the house would be the EASY part??
Turns out that buying a house is an adventure in crazymaking. We have been looking at houses, online and in person, since April. We have seen dozens of houses. We have learned a LOT about each other - and about our realtor. We found a house that would work. We went to see it three times. Sweet Hubby left with the kids to get back home. I stayed with VBGF to help close up her classroom and get her grades in. Robbie the Realtor said she had two more houses for us to see. The plan was that unless either of these two houses trumped it, we'd put an offer on the one we'd seen three times. Wouldn't you know that both houses trumped it? There was a clear top choice though. This house - oh man! We loved it. LOVED it. Naturally, the list price was 30K above our upper limit. Here is where the fun came in.

We spent the better part of the week (=Tuesday morning through Friday afternoon) "negotiating". The first step was to offer 20K less than list price. They countered by going down 2K and wanting both triple the earnest money we offered and triple the cost of repairs contingency. That was weird. They wanted a LOT of our money and they wanted us locked into the contract even if there were repairs of ten grand. Danger Will Robinson! The house was built in '56. We said back - meet you half way on the price but that's ALL the earnest money we've got and we'll up the cost of repair contingency a little bit (NOT to ten grand!) Mind you - these people are in Chicago, Sweet Hubby is back in TN, and the realtors, VBGF, and I are all in NC. Getting answers and signatures and initials is not the smoothest of processes. We went back and forth and back and forth - and finally arrived at a verbal deal. Yay! Minor celebration ensued. Robbie the Realtor told us we couldn't really celebrate until it was all signed. We waited for the signatures. Signatures were not forthcoming. Major sadness and anger ensued. Turns out the young couple could not "afford" to sell their house at the price they verbally agreed to. Note - they were already getting a discounted commission rate. Their realtor said she was in shock and this had never happened to her and she was so sorry - but she could only relay what her clients said. We thought about it. We all decided that this was the right house for us. We raised our offer up to their original counter offer. They still couldn't afford it. Our realtor was irked and said that the sellers were not acting in good faith during the whole of this process. Their realtor agreed! What to do? Walk away? Make an offer on one of the two other houses that would work (just barely) for our family? We decided that we'd make one final effort and offer the list price. [There were other weird contingencies this couple tried to throw in, but all of those details are too tiresome to go into. At one point it truly seemed like the sellers were not hip with the whole concept of what selling entails (i.e. releasing ownership of the house for an agreed upon price).] At long last, however, all documents were signed and faxed (we made them sign first before we wasted time faxing again) and celebration recommenced. (Robbie the Realtor told us we could celebrate 75% - that there was still the home inspection to get through.)

More of the story -
We saw that the house had been listed in April for 90K more than the list price for which we bought it. Somewhere near the end of all the negotiating, our realtor turns up the fact that before that it was listed for 75K more with a different realty company. I guess we should feel like we got a deal, but really? I think they were smoking crack if they thought they'd get their original list price. Yes they did updates (oh, wait until you see the pictures in a minute!) - but the house is still 50 years old and has very little curb appeal (according to R the R.) We did get a deal because we got a house we love, that suits us all, that is close (walking distance on sidewalks!) to the schools and public library and community center, AND that we could afford (even if it's a bit of a stretch!) Keep your fingers crossed for us until July 18th!!

Here are a few of the previously promised pictures!
First, Mayhem and the Princessa as they tested for their black belts. This picture was taken at the beginning - about a half an hour into the three and a half hour test. They are both still so nervous they look like they're about to hurl. The posters on the walls behind them are lists and lists of the techniques they are being tested on.

I have fantastic movies of their freestyle sparring match and grappling match. They are not usually paired in class because they are siblings so it was surprising to have them fight each other during the belt test. The sensei was both amused and impressed. The Princessa didn't slow down one bit when Mayhem sent her earrings flying and Mayhem didn't let up even when the Princessa snagged and ripped out the ties on his gi (you can see them dangling in the pictures.) This is a picture of their final test element: to hold their belts straight armed, out in frontof them (not below their chins or above their foreheads) for 3 full (and very long) minutes.
Here is their first formal bowing out as black belts. Yay!!!!


Next - Chaos is 15! We celebrate with decorated birthday cookies instead of cakes and everyone gets to pick their own theme. Chaos likes skulls.

He also likes the two new holes in his head. One of his closest friends (Nate) got Chaos a scholarship to go to camp. Nate is super excited that Chaos gets to go. Me? Not so much. It's a Baptist summer camp - away for a week. I talked to the youth minister and explained that my son was Catholic and I did NOT want to send him if he was going to be told that his baptism didn't count or that he wasn't a real Christian. The nice youth minister said that didn't happen. ("Since when?!!!" was my sister's response to that.) We'll see. I've explained to Chaos that by choosing to go, he has accepted responsibility to modify his behavior, dress, and attitude to fit within the boundaries of a much more conservative group. He says he still wants to go. I think it will be good for him to follow through on a choice like that, but I'm also a little worried about it. (Can you tell?)

And finally - I have to show off my new kitchen (squeals with delight!) Look at the skylight! Do you see the coolie, cool purple, lavender, and lilac glass mosaic above the range? Have you ever seen an island that big? It's either 9 or 10 feet long!
This is the other end of the kitchen. The black is chalkboard. Painted right onto the wall. Ok - it's weird and not really well done - but it's the only thing I don't just love, love, love about the kitchen. Havoc, however, thinks it's perfect! He can't wait to write out his menus.
Give you one guess as to what he now wants to be when he grows up!
Peace (and keep those fingers crossed for us, please!)

One For The Money, Two For The Show

I have half a dozen half-written posts languishing. I've discovered that the surest way to show my house is to sit down to blog! We've had six showings in four days and we had an offer which is now a contract from the second one. YAY!!! The home inspection is Friday afternoon - and with a 30-year old house that part is a bit worrying! However, I am keeping the faith and I know that it will be smooth sailing. It has to be because, quite honestly, I can't handle many more showings.

We have all worked like fiends getting the house ready and keeping it that way - but oi! I charged Chaos to clean the fans - and he did a lovely job - but he left grimy handprints on the ceiling. I had to show Mayhem that it was, indeed, possible to vacuum the carpets without gouging the baseboards. We pressure washed the house only to have the kids water the baby grass and spray dirt and water up onto the clean windows. Wasabi "helped" by brushing his furry butt against new paint and then sitting on the leather couch. I really thought I'd scream. Actually I did scream a little. I was completely exasperated and explained (in an overly loud voice) several things, including (but not limited to) the pointlessness of creating even more work for ourselves, the financial reality that our house being in better shape meant it selling for better money which in turn meant being able to buy a better house in NC - and importantly that spending money on stupid stuff here (e.g. new green paint to cover up the sparkly red "I love you" mark left by window clings that had been adhered to the wall not the window) meant lowering the budget for fun stuff there (e.g. food, clothing, shelter). Mayhem turned to the Princessa and in a funny, mock sad, little voice said, "See what you did? You made the good Mama go away." The other kids held their breath and waited to see whether my head would start whipping around and around on my neck or whether I'd laugh. I laughed. I hugged them each and sent them off to work - and immediately had to call them back for remedial walking down the hall lessons. Who knew that there were five children in the world who could not for love or money walk down the (need I mention newly painted?) hallway without bumping into the walls with some part of their pointy, grungy little bodies?!!!

Once I'd gotten the kids on board I thought things would fall into place. And they did. Light bulbs fell out of sockets into hard to reach places. Wooden slats in the library unglued themselves and fell to the floor. Clearly, somewhere along the way I have managed to piss off a household god (or three). The lamp we'd moved from the library to Bug and Chaos' room ignited and spewed toxic fumes. Unky Dunky (who was babysitting while SH and I were out to dinner with my father) had the boys put it outside and then they all went back to their video games. In the middle of baking a casserole one night, the oven went "Phht" and died. The stove top still works but the oven won't heat. Is this an old oven? Why no, it is not. (The library lamp was ancient in appliance years and perhaps had an excuse for self immolation even if the timing was uncanny - but the oven was only old enough not to be under warranty!!!) To add insult to injury, for a year and a half we had a spare oven in the garage (along with a spare washer and dryer and at one point a semi-dead refrigerator). Our garage - a half way house for appliances. We looked around a few months ago and said to ourselves, "This is silly. The new appliances in the house are fine. We don't need these other ones even if they aren't all that old and they all work. Sure, it would be great to have another washer and dryer available, but there's not room for a second set to be hooked up. It's wasteful to have these perfectly good appliances sitting here benefitting no one. Let's give them all away!" And we did. We gave them to a needy family through a friend's church.

I don't regret that. I do regret having to spend hundreds of dollars either fixing this oven or buying another one. Grrr. I had no idea that selling a house was so expensive! For the first showing, I got a call at about 5 pm asking if the house could be shown between 6:15 and 7:15. As I hadn't started cooking supper, I took the kids out to eat. $75. The next day the house was shown from 1 to 2. I took the kids to the bookstore. $75. The next day we got three calls in the space of 15 minutes scheduling showings for the next two days. I told the kids we could not spend $75 a pop on these showings. They agreed. The next showing we went into town and bought the boys running shoes - which had been in the budget for a couple of weeks even though we hadn't had time to get there . Three pairs of running shoes ($311.85) and ice cream at Maggie Moo's ($19.61) totals $331.46 which (as Mayhem pointed out) is waaaaaaay more than $75.

Here's today's mantra: Contract. Done deal. Closing on July 16th. No need for any more showings! No more spending money! (We'll stick to all that just as soon as we get back from our trip to Wal-Mart to replace bathing suits we had but can't find ANYWHERE!)
Peace.

Connection

I've been completely self-absorbed for the last week. Lilycentric. There has been so much to do, so very much to do. My poor friends. All they've heard is a frantic whine from me. I'm excited. I'm exhausted. I'm exhausting!

Last night and this morning I decided to go traipsing around the blogosphere. I hadn't been doing much visiting recently. I realized how nice it felt to be connected again to people I don't know! Isn't that weird? But it's true - it felt good to be reacquainted with the details of familiar strangers' lives. I lurk a lot. I follow the progress of new quilts and new babies. I sympathize with other folks who are training or selling their houses too. I read about travels and drool over gorgeous pictures of Australia and Japan. I get inspired by the books people are reading and make mental notes to add to my "Read Next" list. And this morning I went to see Neilochka at Citizen of the Month and found out that Sophia's next surgery is today. Perhaps right now (although since they're West Coast, that would be very early.) He is funny and odd and I love his blog. I immediately sent my thoughts and prayers and then almost as immediately worried that I shouldn't have said anything because they don't know me. But then I think, that's the point! He blogs - he puts it all out there and most of the people that read his blog were strangers until they started reading and commenting. I have to keep reminding myself that that is how blogging works. It makes total sense until I apply it to me. Then I feel like my comment of good wishes might be seen as strange and unwelcome. What is that about?? Anywaaaaaay...prayers, good vibes, and general lurking have gone on this morning. I feel connected. I love being connected. I think it is a good and joyful thing (always and evermore) to be connected in kind and random ways. If you don't have your morning's quota of brain/heart power already allocated, please spend a moment or two thinking healing thoughts for Sophia. Then we'll all be doubly connected.

Now I have to go paint some more [curse word, curse word] trim. Not so joyful. Yet, if you are reading this, then you're connected to me as I paint (and curse). And that's pretty darn cool. What would be cooler is if you could pick up that brush right there ...
Oh well - I guess there are limits on this here ether connection.

Peace.

Peace.

Kids Out, Carpet In, House On, Mayhem Down

The kids are out of school (last week already!) The carpet is in the house (finally yesterday!) The house is on the market (tomorrow really.) Mayhem is down and out, sick as a dog - a feverish dog (right this very minute.) It's been a crazy week. Here's what you missed because I wasn't able to blog. (There are pictures. They are on the camera, which is in a box, which is in a stack, which may be in the garage or even in storage - but which I'm hoping is in the back of the car. I'll post 'em when my head stops spinning enough to locate the camera.)

Brag Time:
Chaos won a presidential achievement in education award.
Mayhem won tenth in the regional math contest and received a library award (a plaque - not just a paper certificate he wants everyone to know.)
The Ninja Princessa received an award at school honoring her state literacy contest win.
Havoc placed first in math and second in science in the gifted program's contests.

Mayhem and The Princessa both received their black belts in karate after THREE AND A HALF HOURS of testing. They had two five minute water breaks but the rest of the time they were marching up and down the floor demonstrating their striking techniques, grappling, doing reversals and take downs (there were some twenty of each!), freestyle sparring, shouting out creeds and last of all holding their belts straight arm out in front of them - not above their heads and not below their chins - for three minutes. It doesn't sound as hard as it is. Had their hands dropped even the slightest bit he would have plucked that black belt out of their hands and tied their provisional belts back on them. It was so nerve wracking to watch them get that far and then watch their arms shake, sweat pouring down their faces. I don't know that I breathed for those last three minutes. Their instructor put on a good show, but she was, if anything, more nervous than us parents. Her sensei was doing the testing and he kept telling the kids how he had had to test and re-test to get his black belt. It took him seven years. I was so relieved and proud of them when they got their belts on their first test. They were proud of themselves - but worn out!

Other Random News:
The house! We (ALL of us - kids, SH, me, VBGF - the whole village!) have painted and weeded and packed and sorted and scrubbed and buffed and dusted and vacuumed and cleaned and fixed and replaced every freaking thing in this house. This sucker better sell IMMEDIATELY!

Did I mention Bug (my stepson) is here? Yay! We get him for three months.

Chaos? Did I tell you what Chaos' birthday present was? Is? He wanted another piercing. (His dad did the first one for him by piercing his earlobe in February.) He had to wait until after school was out but then VBGF and I (and Unky Dunky) took him to the world's cutest piercer and got him an industrial. He agreed to hold off on any more piercings until he's 18. He's very pleased with it. I think it looks great. I also think that it's plenty. If he wants to do any other bod mod for the next couple of years, he's going to have to hit the gym and lift weights or something else innocuous.

Plans:
We are moving no later than mid July. Even if the house hasn't sold (oh, please God - I want the house to sell quickly), we are moving and getting the kids registered for school. From '86 to '92, I lived in Florida, California, Texas, Maryland, and DC. Then from '92 to now (FIFTEEN YEARS!) I've been here. It is more exciting than I thought it would be now that the process has truly begun. I can't wait to be in a new place - a place I've never lived. I can't wait to drive around and explore. I look forward to training rides and runs through the new neighborhood. I wonder about the new people we'll meet.

Whine:
I want to go now!

Peace.

I Heart My Power Washer

I washed most of the roof with the power washer yesterday. VBGF did the courtyard and the side of the house and the windows. (Sweet Hubby was weed eating the gimongous hill we have. Poor guy - we hogged all the pressure washing fun!) The only reason I stopped cleaning the roof was because it was 8:15 p.m. and almost completely dark. I had grand visions of pressuring washing again this morning bright and early. The only obstacle? My right hand is curled into a claw hand - a sore claw hand. To the point that I dreamed (and this won't make any sense to non-Harry Potter fans) that I went to pick VBGF from the Dursleys with my hand all twisted up and blackened. I magicked up everyone a few drinks which they refused to drink so the glasses hovered in the air and clonked them in the head trying to get their attention. VBGF howled with laughter at the Dursleys getting knocked about the head by glassware and was finally ready to leave. My hand was still shriveled. THAT'S how sore my hand is today.

Peace.

The Anti-Prometheus

Apparently I am a fire hoarder. In the sorting, cleaning, and purging process I have come across a crap load of fire starting implements I had squirrelled away. (For a rainy day? For an emergency? In case we needed to start a bonfire the size of Pluto?) I'm not sure what Freud would have made of my tendencies. I have unearthed no fewer than four huge boxes of kitchen matches, three smaller boxes of "strike anywhere" matches, two boxes of camping matches (windproof! waterproof!), and nine (NINE!) lighters in various colors (blue, yellow, orange, pink, purple, and black). Oh! And one (still packaged) camping firestarter kit with a flint/sparking contraption. It's very odd. Most of what I found was tucked away in emergency backpacks, in baskets in the closet, and at the back of drawers in every room in my house.) I don't carry matches (or lighters) in my purse, so clearly I'm not that worried about being able to start a fire anywhere, anytime. Yet...I obviously have a subconscious obsession with having the capacity to start a fire in an "emergency" (provided that emergency happened in the comfort of my home.) Come to think of it though, I'm not sure I'd be a big help in a situation requiring immediate fire. I am historically unable to find implements to light birthday candles or the fireplace!

I'm not at all sure what to do with this pile o'fire potential that I've amassed. I'm not comfortable packing it up and putting it in storage with everything I own. I know Sweet Hubby would say something reasonable like, "Well, if hasn't all caught fire in the house over the years, why would it spontaneously combust the minute we put it in storage?" He may have a point. But I still can't do it. It seems like tempting fate just a leetle too much.

I woke up in the middle of the night worried about those camping matches. I'm not sure it's a good idea to make windproof and waterproof matches. What do you do if you can't blow the match out or douse it in water? I suppose it would be ok for a campfire where you can just toss the match in, but what if you tried to light a candle with that sucker?

I know the Goodwill won't take computers. What do you think their policy is on matches/lighters/flint?

Something Old, Something New

Remember how I was all "Behold! I am doing something new!"? Apparently the newness wore off yesterday and we were back to the old. I could NOT get myself on track with packing and painting and purging. Instead I threw an internal temper tantrum and went for a pedicure. It was lovely to pamper myself. It was part of my Mother's Day present. (As much fun as it was, it was not my favorite part of my Mother's Day present. My favorite part is the handmade card and weird little wind up Carmen Miranda-like bunny thing the kids gave me.)

What was not part of my original Mother's Day present at all was a trip to the bookstore. Yet, on the phone with me as I left the nail shop yesterday, Sweet Hubby said, "Go buy a book! Take yourself to lunch! Re-rax." See why I love that man?

I hied me hither to yon book shoppe. Did I buy a book? No, I did not. I tried. I tried real hard. In the end, though, I could not bring myself to buy a single book. Not me. I, addict that I am, bought books. Plural. As in multiple. More than two. (More than three, if you must know. And you must. That is the point of me being all confessiony on the internet here.) I did save the receipt so that I could take some of them back if need be. (Which is a complete joke really. If I had the willpower to take them back, then I would have had the willpower (in spades!) to resist buying them in the first place. I mean, I suck at returns I HAVE to make. I cannot for the life of me imagine that I would be better at returns I don't want to make. Still. That receipt is emotional insurance.)

I about panicked on the way home as I realized I had no where to "hide" my books. (I mentioned the addiction part of all this, right?) It's not that I hide books from Sweet Hubby. I promise you, he's not judgmental like that. He won't lecture me about $ or natter on about someone giving inches and someone else taking miles. He won't wonder where I'm going to find the time to read them all while still getting done what needs to be done. He's a prince. (Or a really cute enabler. You decide.) He might be slightly disappointed that my book binge is all chick lit. He likes sci-fi. No, my pattern of hiding books is all about hiding them from myself. The old me would squirrel them away, a few here on this bookshelf, a few on that. I would pick one to gobble up right away and the rest would be scattered to be re-discovered later. That way I didn't have a pile of books beside the bed demanding attention all at the same time. The hiding process keeps a book buying binge from turning into an all out book reading binge. Only it is quite a bit harder to tuck books away on this shelf and that when you have no shelves! Or if the few built in ones you have are absolutely bare except for your new books. You know what I did? I put the new books under my bed. Do you think that helped? No, it did not.

I read my allotted one book of immediate gratification last night: Watermelon by Marian Keys. Now I must spend all of today and the rest of this week resisting the rest of the stack even though I know exactly where it is. I've never done that before. Behold! I am doing something new! (I hope.)
Peace.

Where Did Monday Go?

We are in whirlwind mode here. I'm planning on Sweet Hubby's job contract being signed by the end of the week and having the house on the market by a week from today. We have packed all of the books in our house (some 2,000 of them). My studio is packed away. We are moving non-essential furniture, dishes, and clothes to storage, too. Pretty much all we have left are beds, the PS3 (with HD monitor), table and chairs, some food, and random things (like NFL band-aids, bowls of keys, and a headless dragon statue that is awaiting gluing). Makes it easier to paint and put in new carpet. The kids are vacillating at school between last minute fun (field trips, pizza parties, movies in class) and academic cram (National Math League contests, test review, final exams). We had a fantastic time this past weekend. We had all the kids and one party segued right into the next as we celebrated birthdays, and going aways, and mothers. I'm saying goodbye's to my stuff (for a while), to my friends (for a longer while), and to my house (forever). It is a bit drawn out but it feels safe and anchoring. I'm doing everything in stages. Even though it feels like we're doing so much so quickly, it also feels like we have enough time to do it all the right way. I am in a better groove than I've ever been in my life! I am getting better and better at transitions. Who knew that all I needed was more practice?
Peace.

Purging

I spent yesterday throwing away "treasures". Do you want to know what I considered "treasure" in high school? (Yes, I said high school. Remember my reunion - my TWENTIETH reunion LAST May? Twenty-one years. THAT's how long I've been lugging this junk, excuse me - these treasures, around.) The box marked "treasures" was filled with dessicated roses, newspaper clippings of my boyfriend's track achievements, bubble gum wrappers, beer bottle tops, movie ticket stubs, mylar balloon carcasses, construction paper valentines and love letters.

I dated the same boy for three years (=an eternity) in high school so all of that crap was surely connected to him - balloons and bouquets of roses he sent. I can't explain the bubble gum wrappers. My parents HATED gum and you'd get kicked off campus if you got caught with it at school so I never chewed bubble gum. Beer (obviously) was just as forbidden but what worked for keeping me away from gum did not work for alcohol. We drank like fish. Like alcoholic fish. I don't know why I saved a measly three bottle caps as reminders from the squillions of bottles we polished off. I don't even think I want to know. And for the love of God, why would anyone EVER think that a twenty year old movie ticket to "Top Gun" was valuable? Why, why, why have I carted this box around all these years?

It might possibly be cute if I had married that boyfriend and had his children. But I don't know. Another thing I threw away was a Martha Stewart wedding planner stuffed with receipts and magazine clippings and sketches and guest lists from my wedding in '91 to Mr. Tapioca Head. I did marry him, I did have his kids - and I still don't know what possible worth those momentos could have. I asked the boys if they had any interest in it. They looked up from the PS3 and looked horrified. A book full of wedding stuff - no thank you!

Trash! I have bags and bags of trash. It feels incredible to move through the world so much more lightly. It's not that I want to do away with all the reminders of my past. I kept letters from my grandparents and notes from my high school buddies. Books and letters - I re-read those. The other stuff, though, has got to go. I need room in my life for newness, for change, for clarity. I've decided this move is the best thing that could possibly have happened.
Peace.

The Talk

This post may be incomprehensible because my nephew Thrasher is staying with me for the day. You'd think with the herd of children I have that I'd remember how impossible it is to complete anything - even a thought - with a toddler around. Apparently I have the long term memory of a gnat, because I keep looking at the clock wondering how another hour has passed when I've still only managed to write half of an email! For a little guy who spent his entire day yesterday flying from Paris to Boston to Philadelphia to here - Thrasher's remarkably well behaved. Very snuggly. I may not have gotten caught up on my email but I'm making progress on getting caught up on hugs and kisses!

So...Monday night...The Talk
Have you ever tried to wedge a family talk into a schedule of karate and cub scouts and chorus concerts and math contests? There was no "good" night for it. Once we decided that sooner was better for the kids than later, we realized that the only relatively free night in the next two weeks was Monday. Maybe it's good we didn't have more than a few hours to stress about it. I had a hurried, but helpful and encouraging phone conversation with VBGF and then took a walk around the block with Sweet Hubby. Mr. Tapioca Head and I had talked twice already and he said he'd be available for the kids to call him after we finished talking. All set.

We took the kids out for ice cream after the concert to celebrate the Princessa's solo and Mayhem's making the math team. We got home and instead of chasing them off to bed, sat them around the table. We said we had big news we needed to talk to them about.
"You're pregnant?!" asked the Princessa.
Er, no. We explained we were moving. Chaos immediately asked, "Will I still get to go to HHS?"
"No, we're moving to North Carolina."
"Oh man!" he said and put his head down on his arms. The Princessa burst into tears. She sobbed. She was almost hysterical for a while. It was not going particularly well. We reminded them about the job situation here and told them about the job opportunities there. We told them we had weighed many factors once we knew that we needed to move. We told them there were other opportunities in other places, but we'd decided on North Carolina because we already had some family and friends there and that all the kids had liked it when we'd visited. We told them that we were making the best choice for our family that we could. Of course they wanted to know where else. I said, "There are some great opportunities in places like San Francisco and Dallas and Atlanta." Chaos cracked me up when he said, "Dallas? Dallas, Texas? Gee, what else is in Texas? Cowboys, prickly cactuses, and, oh the Bush family. No thank you!" I assured him there was a lot more in Texas but that I agreed with him, it would NOT be a good place for us.

We told them about the schools and some of the activities that were available. We assured the boys they wouldn't miss time with their dad because he was going to move close by. We told the Princessa that it wouldn't affect her time with her mom. The only change would be that she'd fly from RDU instead of from BNA. Havoc tried first to find the bright side and started listing the people we knew there. But then it hit him that he'd be leaving his Grandmothers and friends and he got a little tearful. His response was pretty amazing for an 8 year old. He said, "I feel worried and stressed and a little bit angry and excited, too. Would it be alright if I got a piece of paper and a bright red crayon and scribbled while you keep talking?" I praised him for being able to name all of his feelings and told him of course he could scribble if that made him feel better. Mayhem was completely cool with it all. He wanted to call his best friend - but since they see each other more on Runescape than they do in real life, I don't think he sees it as impacting his friendships too much. Mayhem is also easily the most outgoing of the kids. He makes new friends everywhere.

Mayhem, never one to be still for very long - and being more upset by the Princessa's sadness than the actual news, I think - had to get up and move around. He started practicing his karate moves. Chaos was quiet. He also got up but he started wandering around the table and pacing. Havoc snuggled and the Princessa leaned against me as she continued to sniffle. Havoc wanted to know if he could go talk to the guidance counselor at school. Isn't that great?! I love that he thought of other resources to help him deal. We let the kids ask all of their questions and then let them up to go figure things out the way they wanted to. The Ninja Princessa immediately texted all of her friends and Havoc called his dad. Chaos wanted to go sit in the driveway and look at the moon and think. Mayhem and Wasabi went around checking on everyone. Once the big talk broke up, we got to have smaller conversations with the kids in shifting groups. I went to talk to Chaos in the driveway and Mayhem joined us. SH and the NP cuddled on our bed and talked and pretty soon Havoc and Mayhem and Wasabi joined them. Later I had all the boys in the studio. Chaos said he was "fine" with it. I asked him what he felt. "Nothing." I told them that everyone would have a different pattern for processing and a different time schedule. The boys were worried about the Princessa. The Princessa was worried about the boys - especially because she couldn't understand how Chaos could feel nothing. I told her that it was hard for some people to know what they were feeling immediately. I told all of them that there would be more and different feelings everyday for a while. We emphasized that everyone's reactions were valid. There isn't just one way to do big transitions. We tried to make them understand that there were many, many healthy patterns for dealing with things like this. We did talk about some of the unhealthy ways that we wanted to avoid - but mostly we talked about the positives.

It was hard but such a good process! The kids all had to go away to cope for a bit - but they all came back! Each of them came back and added more to the discussion. They each came back to ask more and to talk more about how they felt. Even Chaos, in his own way. He came in and wanted to snuggle and have me scratch his back. I told him I could only scratch his back for a minute and he said, "After what you just did, you better scratch my back for TEN minutes." He also let me know that part of the price for his cooperation with the move is to get his ear pierced the minute school is out. It was sweet bargaining. It was, "This sucks and I'm trying to be a good sport." I know that Monday was only the first stage but it was a great first step. The kids were all honest and present and turned in towards the family. I had been sure Chaos' first reaction would be a huge surge of anger. I hadn't anticipated the Ninja Princessa's intense sadness. I think it likely that there will be more anger from Chaos and less sadness and more resignation from the Princessa as the days move on. I know that everyone is going to cycle up and down through all kinds of feelings. It is a grieving process. It just felt so good to be doing all of that together. It's been hard to try to be juggling details and worry about slipping up and having the kids find out in a backwards way. I like the directness and clarity and I want to keep moving in that direction.

We've already started packing up our books. Remember our beautiful library? Now it looks like this!

There is so much to do in such a short time but now I'm enjoying the process more.
Naptime is over! Thrasher and I are going to have some lunch and pack some more boxes.
Peace.