Monday, February 22, 2010

House thoughts (not the TV show)

We will be closing on our first home in about 60 hours. We will be moving into said house in about 118 hours.*


* * * * *

ShankRabbit and I spent this past weekend packing, sorting, organizing, packing, laughing, packing. This state of "half-moving" that we are living in has made for one emotionally-fragile Peanut and mama. Throw in some serious teething and you've got a barrel of fun.

Not really.

Our daughter has made it known that in this time of boxed-up chaos, any teeny tiny change in her routine will send her into meltdown mode.
(see: Bedtime routine. ShankRabbit skipped over the short game of tag they play every night and went straight to story time. The world ended.)

* * * * *

I've had my issues with this house we are currently renting, (you can get an idea here) but I'm sure going to miss it. Every time I feel the least bit emotional about moving (this is the only home our daughter has ever known WAAAAHHHH...) I think of all the positives of the new place (um, hello FINISHED BASEMENT!).

So far, it's working.

* * * * *

Confession time: 95% of our bathroom items are packed up. This includes replacement cartridges for my razor (and the scary Cheapo Razors of Death. I'll tell you all about that another time). The one that is currently on my razor has seen better days. I'd probably get a closer shave with a spork.

Thank goodness it's winter. No one** has to be subjected to my hirsute chicken legs.

* * * * *

And with those pleasant thoughts, I bid you good night.

* - please don't hold me to those numbers. My math is not the greatest.
** - aside from my poor husband.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Crazy is normal for me

Lots of stuff floating around in my head recently - some of those items, in no particular order:

1. A House of Our Own: we put an offer on a house. Offer was accepted. Loan application well on its way. Closing date set.

2. My cousin's send-off party is Saturday. He's going to join the ranks of the United States Marine Corps. Military service is common in our family, but hasn't come up in our generation. He's the first. My little cousin...well, not so little anymore. I don't think my brain can process this properly. He's old enough? Seriously?! It seems like just yesterday we were watching Barney together.

Here he is with his sister in '96 or so. I'd show you a pic of him now, but he'd probably stop speaking to me if he knew I posted it on my blog. So, I'm using my favorite one of them as kids. Muhahahaha!

3. I had a very rare snowball of anxiety clobber me a couple weeks ago that I couldn't shake before bed (oddly, not related to either of the items mentioned above).


* * * * *

I have this weird thing going on with a few of my toes. After ruling out poor shoe choice and bug bites, I turned to my trusty intarwebz to see what this could be. It left me with more questions than answers. ShankRabbit is convinced I have "the gout" (said in a very crotchety, old-man voice). Thanks for making me feel SO much younger, dear husband.

I'm convinced my second toes are protesting any and all shoes. They are the longest of the bunch - why do they have to be scrunched while the other toes get ample space to move around? Equal rights for ALL TOES!



Wow. I started this post talking about my moments of crazy and end with anthropomorphizing my toes.

This would be a good place to stop before any more crazy comes out.

(Let's hope the next month brings better topics of discussion)