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?