The First Practice

March 5, 2009

Getting ready to leave for practice. The boys were getting their cleats on at the front door and making sure they had everything in their baseball bags. Miles couldn’t wait to leave. He opened the door and told us that he would meet us in the car.

Seriously, son? You are four years old. Why are you in such a rush?

Miles had protested that he didn’t want his photo taken. Silly boy.

The other kids all laughed. His 8yr old brother told him that he should just stand there and get it over with.

Why won’t they stop growing up? Stop it already, dammit!

The practice was unbearably cute. Like herding cats. Cats swinging baseball bats and throwing balls with no regard to the presence of others.

It took all my strength not to run out on the field, tackle him to the ground, and eat him up.

But he is a serious baseball guy now.

Miles new thing to say to me is, “I love you like a bag of ________.” Insert something really great in the blank, like donuts, candy, bubblegum.

Yesterday after practice he came running up to me and said, “I love you like a bag of baseballs.”

Just in case I was unclear, he added, “That’s a whole lot!”

Field of Dreams

March 4, 2009

Boxes Can Be Useful

One of the really odd things about this house is how absolutely, ridiculously small the designated eatting area of the kitchen is. (Don’t even get me started on the equally small CARPETTED dining “room”.) It is so small and awkwardly positioned that you could only fit a very small round table that seats a maximum of four people. And that would leave most of us standing.

Considering that this is a six bedroom house you would think that they living areas would be large, but they really aren’t. The bedrooms are all big, but how much time do you really spend there? And wouldn’t you think that if a house had six bedrooms that more than four people might be wanting to sit at a table and eat together?

So we decided to turn the largish downstairs family room that is open to the kitchen into the sole eatting area. It has a tile floor. It is large enough for a big table. Bigger than the one that we had at our old house.

But so far it is an imaginary table.

All the little people, who aren’t big enough to eat standing up at the counter sit on the floor and uses boxes as their individual tables. Or at least they were until I unpacked most of the boxes in this room. Last night I found myself calling the kids in to dinner and setting their plates on the floor. The FLOOR!

I felt like I was feeding a litter of dogs.

My Sweet Long Haired Blonde Boys

March 3, 2009

These are the faces I get when I tell them to smile.

Which is why I usually just take candid shots.

Even though when I look at these faces I can’t help but laugh.

Unrelated, Miles has his first baseball practice tomorrow. Unless I just gobble him up first, because he is just too cute in his tiny little basbeball costume uniform.

And If They Are Very Lucky, Underwear

It seems that some people have forgotten that blogs are not an open window into the life of the people who write them. No one shares everything online. I would guess that most of us don’t share a majority of what goes on in our lives in this type of forum. Yes, that holds true for big things too.

It has been a stressful time. This move has been planned for a long time. Remember this past summer when we flew to TX? That was to buy a house. It was exciting. We found one we liked, signed a contract, and then ended up backing out. The economy sucks right now and we can’t sell our old house.

I lived in CT with the children by myself for 6 months while Rob lived here, in Austin. I didn’t mention it for safety reasons. I really didn’t want anyone showing up at my house while my husband wasn’t there. I would have had to shoot first, then ask questions. And, well, that would have been messy.

I was hoping that eventually there would be a way to tie it up neatly with a bow and share it all by saying, “Hooo-boy you won’t believe how hellish the past months have been!” And it would have been just a footnote to a funny story. Unfortunately there is no way to package it up and make it all pretty.

Supporting two separate houses is difficult. Paying a mortgage and utilities on a house you are no longer living in is depressing. Listing your house for almost ONE THIRD of its value two years ago is so soul suckingly depressing that there are no words. And still having no one want to buy it, or even come LOOK at it, just breaks you.

I know there are going to be people who are going to come out and say, “Yeah but you are lucky.” “You really have nothing to complain about.” “You are a spoiled bitch.” Well maybe all those things are true. I don’t have it bad. What is depressing is all the hard work we put into our old house, not to mention all of the money we spent renovating it, and having nothing to show for it at the end. As a matter of fact, losing money on it.

Yes, we have food to eat. A nice rental house to live in. But it doesn’t compare it any way, shape, or form to my old house, which I loved except for the fact that it was located in the arctic tundra. Nor does it compare in any way, shape, or form to the house we were going to build or the houses we thought we were going buy. But really, why do I care about that? It is just stuff and now I have way less of it to clean. There I am always looking on the bright side.

We aren’t behind on our bills. Our daily day to day living hasn’t changed dramatically. We have money enough that our kids haven’t noticed a real difference in their lives. Though they have complained that this house is too small. “We are like pioneers!” I tell them, “Like the Ingalls family! You know if they had indoor plumbing, electricity, and wifi! Oh and didn’t have to share beds with their siblings.” They look back at me with blank stares.

And in the interest of full disclosure, the house really isn’t THAT small, it is just not a great floorplan.

My son got a basketball for his birthday yesterday. In fairness, we did tell him that we would buy him his real present next week after payday. If he can decide what it is he wants other than a Playstation or XBox or whatever it is, which just isn’t going to happen. The rest of the kids all thought it was a joke and kept asking where the rest of his presents were.

If this keeps up they may be getting oranges in their stockings next Christmas. And liking it.

I Now Have Two Teenagers

March 2, 2009

Though if you look closely he has a 3 on his cake because he was born on February 29th and therefore doesn’t actually have a birthday this year. Something we like to remind him of when he starts listing all the things he wants for his birthday.

Might As Well Jump!

March 1, 2009