Several Things

Life is a tiny bit stressful at the moment, because we have lots of decisions to make about how we accomplish getting ourselves from here to Spain.
It doesn't seem like it should be as complicated as it is, but alas, it is.

Right now it's looking like a drive from here to Vegas, a visit with friends, a flight for the kids and I from Vegas to Michigan, a drive from Vegas to Michigan for Josh, a whole heck of a lotta luggage, and myriad other details that are too minute to go into.

So let's talk of other things.


-- This is a sweaty man.

We had to take a picture to commemorate the final outing of this t-shirt. This was his PT shirt from ROTC field training. Which took place in San Antonio, Texas one hot summer month in 1998. I know because I was there, too.
It was when I started to become interested in Josh in a non-platonic way. But he didn't know that and so he regaled me with stories about the girls he'd been dating that summer.

Jerk.

Anyway, the number thirteen used to be red, but it's been a lot of years since the red peeled away.

But now there are just too many holes, and it's time to let it go.
14 years is a pretty good run for a t-shirt though, don't you think?

Adieu, number 13. Adieu. 

-- Sorry about the glare, but I was afraid to go outside to take this picture.
Did you know that racoons travel in herds?
 

 
Me either. But the fifth one was out of the frame. And I think 5 racoons definitely constitute a herd.

-- Spooky Spaghetti.
It was a fundraiser at the kids school. In which you wear costumes, trick or treat, and eat steak.

Kidding, kidding.
Obviously you eat spaghetti.

 

 The kids had a blast seeing all their classmates in costume.Yesterday I tired of doling out the candy and just let them go to town and eat it all. It's better for your teeth to just knock it all out in one shot and then brush, floss, flouridate, and hope for the best.

I don't think flouridate is a real word.

Mostly because there's a squiggly red line under it as I type it.

-- More Face Painting.
We went to an open house at the local fire department. The same face-painter from the birthday party was there, and since it was free, the kids got their faces painted again.

Yes, I am cheap. No, I would not have paid for it. It has to wash off a couple hours later, you know.

-- I think I totally forgot to blog the entire time that Boppa was in town, so lest I forget to mention it, Boppa came to visit us for a week. Our little tour guides had a fun time showing him around, and it was perfect timing as the kids had their fall break that week.
I don't understand what's going on with the hats in the picture below, but sometimes you just gotta roll with it.

We took Boppa to see a sunset "around the corner."  We actually have to drive to that beach, but don't worry it's just a few miles.

 We live here.

-- There are so many hilarious ways in which I could say this next point.  But, I'm going to try to be mature about it and just say it the normal, albeit non-hilarious, way:

We were in a small car accident last weekend in which a large truck impacted the rear of our car.

Whew. Being mature is harder for me than it should be.

Thankfully, no one was injured, but the poor Carolla Sport isn't looking so sporty from behind anymore. So in addition to the other multitudes of things requiring our attention at this point in time, I've been running the car around getting estimates and Josh has been having uncomfortable conversations with a stranger about money.

So there's that.

-- Today Alex had her palatal expander removed! Yea for her! Only the excitement was short-lived. For we were given a form to take to her regular dentist to arrange for the extraction of 3 more baby teeth. Her regular dentist happens to be in the same complex, so I figured we would just walk over and schedule it right then. Because I hate making phone calls.
Really hate it.
So we get there, and they offer me 4 different appointments. One during a time next week when Alex has a physical that had to be scheduled months in advance, two during our cruise, and one on  a day the movers will be here. But then they told me that they could do it right then.
And before I knew what was happening, Alex had the nitrous hose on and Derek was shoved into a surprisingly well stocked toy corner.
Poor baby girl.
Her dentist was super-nice and even gave her a $5 gift card for Jamba Juice so she could get a special drink on the way home. I had never been to a Jamba Juice before, but that probably doesn't surprise anyone who saw me drive up in a crumpled Carolla.
I'm more of a McCafe girl than a Starbucks girl, after all.

-- Josh's testing for his Spanish course starts next week. It's kind of a big deal.

-- My friend Nicole is getting married in Virginia on Sunday, and I can't be there. This is a no good very bad thing.


I hate to end on a no good very bad thing, but I have to go now.

Goodbye.

A new post. Really.

Is a blogger who never blogs still a blogger?
Let us ponder.

Have you ever had someone show up on your doorstep with the intent on surveying every room in your house? Only they were supposed to show up somewhere between the hours of 9 and 12, and instead they showed up at 8:15?
And you were planning on doing emergency cleaning from 8:15 until 9:00?

That happened to me this morning.
The pre-move surveyer knocked at 8:15 and I debated if I should just ignore it. I mean, I might have been nude.
I wasn't, but I might have been.

I answered the door, and tried to joke it off.

Me, looking ragged and with coffee breath: Hi there. Hmmm, I thought you'd be here between 9 and noon; my house is a disaster! I was just picking up.

Him, Dressed in a suit and looking like he doesn't care:  They're supposed to tell you between 8:30 and 11:30.

Me-- (in my head because I don't want him to break my things) Well it's not even 8:30 yet. And none of the beds are made, the kids' breakfast remnants are still on the table, and we'll be lucky if there are no dirty underwear on bedroom floors.
(out loud)-- Come in.

Oy. That was an embarrassing half-hour, as I walked him around discreetly putting toilet lids down and wiping play-doh crumbs from the table so he could do his paperwork.

But now he's gone, and so is my motivation to clean.

Let's see if I can remember what else is going on these days....

- I hate waking up in the mornings. This is not new.
Last week was particularly difficult for some reason. I woke up every day mumbling worst day ever, because until I wake up completely, every day that I'm forced from my bed feels like the worst day ever.
I was really looking forward to Saturday sleep-in.
Josh had laid out snacks for the kids, and we'd told them to put on a show and leave us the heck alone.

Only we said it nicer.
Maybe.

And to what sound do I wake at 6:45 in the a.m.?
The sound of my son crying. I can tell where the sound is coming from-- the bathroom. And I knew that I knew that I knew what was going on.
Josh beat me out of bed and down the stairs. He thought Derek must have peed in his pull-up and was upset about it.
But I knew better.
He peed down his leg, I just knew it.

He gets up around that time every morning to pee. And sometimes if he's really sleepy, he forgets to check (forgive me in advance) if his penis is stuck to his balls.

It's true. Do you remember the fatherly letter Josh wrote to Derek from Afghanistan covering this very detail?

So I was sure I was going to go downstairs to see a puddle at his feet.

I was more right than Josh, but we were both befuddled to see Derek, facing the opposite direction of the toilet, and standing in a puddle.
His pants were down, but his pull-up was up. And dry.
I was so confused.
I still am; he has been unable to explain exactly how this happened. Did he just aim the wrong direction? Did he think the floor was the toilet?

I don't have the answers. I only know that stinky morning pee ruined my sleep-in day.

Good thing he's cute.

Last night he casually mentioned that when his class "gets the wiggles" at school, they do yoga.

Why, yes, we do live in California.

He showed us some sweet yoga moves. Yoga's not really for the uncoordinated though.

Although, in surprising news, the boy has actually been scoring goals during soccer. He is so proud when that happens that he spends the rest of the game looking at us on the sidelines for approval and misses several more opportunities to score.

Alex is still enjoying school and her friends. She's gotten into reading chapter books, and I'm hoping she'll enjoy reading like me. And not like Josh, who only reads comic books graphic novels.
I don't know how he got so smart with not enjoying reading, but he did.
And it's borderline annoying.

Love you, sweetie! Do you still check my blog? Have you given up on me ever posting again? Sorry I covered me up with the extra quilt last night and left you freezing. But I was warm and toasty, if it makes you feel better.

Where were we?
Alex.
She is sad about our move. She started crying last night thinking about leaving her friends at school. I don't really know how to handle this. We have so many more moves in our future...


So that's us in a nutshell.
Derek pees, Alex cries, We live in filth.

Questions?

aaaaAAHHH Freak Out.

Okay Everyone.
It's time to calm down.

Deep cleansing breaths. In. Out.

There now.

There is no reason for you all to get so worked up over the fact that I'm moving in two months. I appreciate your concern, and the fact that you feel the need to make multitudes of lists in your heads, but never write them down on paper because then you might have to start doing something.

Okay wait.
I think I'm confused.

That would be me.

Two months? For realz? That's like, no time.

We finally got our orders, so the process has officially begun. (For you non-military folks, that just means that the papers that make our assignment official have arrived.)

Josh has already set up our three different moving shipments for the first week in December. We need to divide our belongings into three shipments--
1) Storage-- everything that is not coming to Spain with us. Think useless electronics (voltage differences), lawn equipment (apartment living bonus), furniture that might not fit into smaller bedrooms, etc.

2) Unaccompanied Baggage-- A small shipment of things that in theory arrive faster than your main shipment.
Think things that we might want if we move into an apartment before our main goods arrive. Shower curtain, towels, bedding, pots & pans, etc.

3) Main Shipment-- Furniture and Everything Else.

So now all we have to do is pretend we have some small idea of what our place in Spain will look like, and decide which furniture should go or stay, and what things we need the fastest vs what we can live without for longer. And what things we don't need at all.
So, if one of you can just make those decisions for me, you can e-mail me the results and I'll go back to my couch and bon-bons.

Because I'm finding it a wee bit more complicated than I thought it would. For example. Should we bring our ski pants? After all, we might go skiing once or twice. But on the other hand, storage in an apartment is not plentiful, would we really use it? How about the kids' bikes? Do we bring them and make them part of our living room decor, or do we let them forget how to ride a bike?

In other news.
I've been waging a war in my kitchen.

Two words. One word. A hyphenated word.
Fruit-flies.

I've been smacking the crap out of them left and right. The bodies are everywhere. I leave them there to serve as a witness to their siblings. I will win the battle.
The first step was throwing out the rotting sweet potatoes. 


They are pesky, and persistant, little buggars.


In other, other news. Oooh! Oooh! GuessWhatGuessWhatGuessWhat?

I'm going on a cruise.

Oh, the rest of my family is going too, but that's all secondary. *I* am going on a cruise.
Holla.

We were looking for a vacation for after Josh's graduation in November, and it turns out that cruises the week after a major holiday are discounted. Because who can take a week off the week after Thanksgiving?
We can, yea!
And so we are.

Disney cruise, baby. Do you know that they have kids' clubs on Disney cruises? They do. If you so choose, you can forget you have children between the hours of 9am and 1am.
Not that we would do that, of course.

Ahem.

I mean, we might send them to the club to have a dinner on our own once or twice. Or to go to the adult pool. Or maybe to take a nap. Or go to the gym to make up for the copious amounts of desserts we will eat. Or to walk around Cabo San Lucas. Or to shower in silence. Or...


In other other other news.

Derek had soccer again on Saturday. He still isn't very good, but the important thing is that he doesn't know it.

The kids went to a birthday party this weekend. There was face painting.

Alex decided she wants to be a face painter when she grows up. As well as a ballet instructor, who also designs clothes for her own store.

Derek isn't sure what he wants to do tomorrow.

But that's okay, because he can stay with me forever.

And ever.

As long as he pays rent.