It's coming up fast now. 10 days until we take possession of the new place. 10 days to pack.
Whew, I think I just hyperventilated a little bit there.
Mostly I am feeling strangely unstressed about it all, actually. Sure, I'm laying awake until the wee hours every night, remembering all the THINGS I NEED TO REMEMBER TO DO, ON PAIN OF DEATH (lawyers, realtors, documents, handing over vast sums of money boo hoo, blah blah blah), but honestly? I am handling it all very well. No hives, even!
Today I packed up the kids and we drove downtown to drop off some paperwork. I found a great parking spot, had juuuuust enough change to plug the meter, we found the correct address semi-quickly (why don't all those buildings have their addresses more prominently displayed? We had to walk halfway down the wrong street before I could find a building number anywhere), everyone kept their pants dry--even me! ha, couldn't resist a cheap shot, even at myself--and once in the correct office we were served quickly and pleasantly.
The kids were relatively awesome about it all, and I only had to get a little ominous while enforcing the handholding-while-crossing-street rule, so to demonstrate my resultant joie de vivre I took the kids to the museum where we stayed for HOURS. At least two of those hours were spent repeatedly shuttling J and his tiny, tiny bladder to the bathroom, where I had to inform my dismayed Big Boys that they had to come in the ladies' room with me. Who knew a 7 year old could do bershon so well?
After the museum kicked us out we swam upstream through stat-holiday-eve (Happy Birfday, Canada!) rush hour traffic, and got home just as the clock struck Dinnertime. I managed to pull together a meal in 15 minutes, because I rock. Or maybe because I took the easy way out and heated something up. I'll never tell.
Once we'd filled our faces, I took G out on a date, as reward/reinforcement for his suddenly agreeing with his parents, grandparents, and pretty much everyone else in the world that consistently using the toilet, no nagging or hovering necessary, is a good idea. And oh man, it is SUCH a good idea. I only wish he'd agreed with me about 2.5 years ago when we started the toileting process. But who's counting? To celebrate achieving what was beginning to look unachievable, we took ourselves to yonder cinema, donned the geeky glasses and watched "Up" in 3D. It was a great show. Except for that bit where they made me cry.
I do enjoy Pixar's films. But why oh why do they suckerpunch me every time? You'd think I'd have learned by now, it's not like they stray from the formula. They give you five minutes of happy and cute, sweetness and light, and then BAM someone is dead. Remember "Finding Nemo?" I still can't watch the first bit where--spoiler alert!--Mom and a hundred or so of Nemo's siblings get munched up. I'm going to start arriving 10 minutes late, so the downer bit is out of the way before I begin watching. I'm pretty sure I can pick up the storyline, no problem. Or maybe I'll bring the laptop and watch something uplifting until the weepy part has passed. Nobody would mind, right? It wouldn't be hard to concentrate on a feature film with, say, this playing quietly in the theatre, am I right?
God, that video makes me happy. If the next 10 days--10 days!!-- start to bring me down, I will put it on continuous loop.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Can't Hardly Wait
We have been busy like beavers here. Our house is on the market as of today, and there is a big, lovely house awaiting us (we take possession in three weeks!!) in my dream neighbourhood. The past few weeks have been spent clearing five years' worth of clutter from this house, and making what was left look as nice as possible. Now we just have to keep it all looking perfect in case anyone wants to come look and shower us with money for the privelege of living here. No pressure.
Actually, the kids have been quite great about humouring their uptight mother. "Don't touch that!" "Put that back!" "You're not going to play with those toys, are you?" "Stop having fun! It's too messy!" We are just going to find as much to do away from the house as we can, outings galore.
We were housebound this week, as the kids all fell ill again. This time was pretty rough--many, many days (and nights) of fever, a bit of barf, and a dash of diarrhea for good measure. G was the first to fall, and then N and J soon after. Poor G slept away a couple of days, and looks a bit skinnier now than he did a week ago. Upon our return to school today (which I wasn't entirely sure was a good idea, since he's still coughing so much), the teachers handed me a notice from the public health board stating that there has been a confirmed case of swine flu at the school. Hmm. I had been thinking about taking G to the doc, but just when I got to the "if he's not better by tomorrow" point, he got better. J is still fevery, and now I'm getting The Sick. I wonder if he and I should swing by a walk-in clinic tomorrow? I hate to drag my germy children through a waiting room full of people who are already not well. I also hate to be branded with the leperous swine flu tag. Perhaps if I call our regular doc ahead of time, they could meet us at the door with hazmat suits, or usher us inside via a secret, underground corridor. Then they can draw blood and marvel at its greenish hue before plastering a flourescent warning sticker on us and shoving us out into the cold. Wait, it's really hot out--before shoving us out into the blistering heat.
Gee, I hope we get a ton of interest in the house this week so I can drag my fevered, sweating carcass, cats and children in tow, to find Something Fun to occupy a couple of hours.
Okay, the new house--I feel like it's too awesome for us. Should we be allowed to live somewhere so awesome? Have we exceeded our awesome allowance? Firstly, it's big. It's really big. It's bigger than we need. Second, it's updated. We don't need to redo floors or rip out a kitchen or anything. Alright, so there's a few fixy bits to take care of, but it looks all purty inside. Finally, and most importantly, it's in an amazing location. There are places to walk to! The streets are lined with trees! The neighbouring yards are well-kept!
I have been so preoccupied with making this place look like a lovely, inviting home that I have given little thought to the lovely, inviting home waiting for us. I'm starting to get excited now.
Actually, the kids have been quite great about humouring their uptight mother. "Don't touch that!" "Put that back!" "You're not going to play with those toys, are you?" "Stop having fun! It's too messy!" We are just going to find as much to do away from the house as we can, outings galore.
We were housebound this week, as the kids all fell ill again. This time was pretty rough--many, many days (and nights) of fever, a bit of barf, and a dash of diarrhea for good measure. G was the first to fall, and then N and J soon after. Poor G slept away a couple of days, and looks a bit skinnier now than he did a week ago. Upon our return to school today (which I wasn't entirely sure was a good idea, since he's still coughing so much), the teachers handed me a notice from the public health board stating that there has been a confirmed case of swine flu at the school. Hmm. I had been thinking about taking G to the doc, but just when I got to the "if he's not better by tomorrow" point, he got better. J is still fevery, and now I'm getting The Sick. I wonder if he and I should swing by a walk-in clinic tomorrow? I hate to drag my germy children through a waiting room full of people who are already not well. I also hate to be branded with the leperous swine flu tag. Perhaps if I call our regular doc ahead of time, they could meet us at the door with hazmat suits, or usher us inside via a secret, underground corridor. Then they can draw blood and marvel at its greenish hue before plastering a flourescent warning sticker on us and shoving us out into the cold. Wait, it's really hot out--before shoving us out into the blistering heat.
Gee, I hope we get a ton of interest in the house this week so I can drag my fevered, sweating carcass, cats and children in tow, to find Something Fun to occupy a couple of hours.
Okay, the new house--I feel like it's too awesome for us. Should we be allowed to live somewhere so awesome? Have we exceeded our awesome allowance? Firstly, it's big. It's really big. It's bigger than we need. Second, it's updated. We don't need to redo floors or rip out a kitchen or anything. Alright, so there's a few fixy bits to take care of, but it looks all purty inside. Finally, and most importantly, it's in an amazing location. There are places to walk to! The streets are lined with trees! The neighbouring yards are well-kept!
I have been so preoccupied with making this place look like a lovely, inviting home that I have given little thought to the lovely, inviting home waiting for us. I'm starting to get excited now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)