house for sale! cheap!

Well this homeownership stuff has been an absolute blast, but we’ve had enough. Its been… what… about 7 months now? We’re done.

I walked into the laundry room/mud room at 5:30 and there was at least a half inch of water on the floor. I had just finished laundry around 4:45 – thats why I came into the room, to check if the dryer was done and I stepped into a puddle. The floor was bone dry when I was in there earlier. (What utterly and completely boggles my mind is that Husband had just walked through the flood — and didn’t notice!! MEN!!) 
Anyway, many towels and hours later, we are pretty dry, but rain is in the forecast for the next 4 days. Meanwhile, words like “regrating,” “french drains,” and “thousands of dollars” are floating through my head.  I guess we’ll have to focus on soccer and teach the girls to say, “scholarship.”

So, back to the beginning, we have had enough of this homeownership crap and will be selling our house and moving in to a nice, rented apartment. Then when something goes wrong we can just dial a number and have someone else take care of it. That sounds really, really nice…..

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“get out of our way!!”

said G3 at the slow car in front of us, after hearing a very frustrated me mutter, "MOVE!"

Humm… Methinks I need to be paying more attention to what comes out of my mouth…

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whose crap is this? and why is it in my house?

I'm up in the attic today searching for a shower curtain for my in-laws to use. (One that we registered for and used for exactly one year in our first apartment. It has been sitting in a closet ever since. Like so many other necessities I registered for. Sigh.) When it hit me like a ton of bricks.

We have too much crap stuff. Really.

I am not a pack rat. Far from it. I am always tossing things out.  I have ended up picking through the garbage a few times after an overambitious purge, but that's for another day.  Clutter seriously stresses me out. I absolutely cannot relax if I see things laying on the floor of the TV room or *gasp* piles on the dining room table. I can ignore dirt. I can not ignore clutter. Inherited this from Mom. (Thanks, Mom!)

I found wedding gifts that are still in their boxes – after six years next week. (Go us!) A set of dishes that I hate missing all the bowls, which broke in our first move. (Ironically the only one done by professionals is the only one where things broke.) A electronic foot-bath-massaging thingy, which I have used once. About 3 gazillion various knick-knacky-type-thingys that have been given to us as gifts. I hate knick-knacks. (I'm sorry, but cute clutter is still clutter!)

So why is my attic full of useless things? Wait, let me qualify "useless." Yes, we have too many baby clothes, baby swings, baby car seats, baby accessories, etc. But since we are probably not quite done reproducing, we will keep all of that. Because – however big it is, however cumbersome to store – that baby swing preserved my sanity with a newborn and eighteen-month-old in the house and I will be forever grateful. I will probably have a funeral complete with finger sandwiches when it finally dies. By "useless" things, I mean the box the printer came in, the box the Playstation came in, the box the car seat came in, and the box to an old phone that is broken that has the broken phone inside of it. By "useless" things I mean my husband's high school textbooks. Yup, that's right. Not grad school (although we have those too). High school. Textbooks.

You've guessed it!! Husband is a pack rat. The worst kind of pack rat. One who is in complete denial of being one. I have some serious work to do. I will have this attic/closets/husband cleaned out by December 31. This is my New Years Resolution. Made almost in July but whatever. It will be my Half-Year Resolution. I will do this. I will conquer the sly pack rat who has a secret hold on Husband. I will beat that pack rat with empty computer boxes and broken telephones, throw him in a trash bag with cds from the early 90s that haven't been touched in a decade and send him to the curb. Or maybe I will knock him out with a dusty high school textbook and send him to the recycling center along with the old school notebooks. I will win. Oh, yes. I will win.

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“dark”

"Don't shut your sister up in a cardboard box. Hear her crying? She is not enjoying it."

"But, Mom, we're playing dark! See? Its dark in there?"

"Then you go in the box."

"No way! Its dark in there."

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mommymobile

My in-laws are staying with us this week as they move. Last time they moved, I was pregnant so I got out of that one. Phew! And this time I have kids to watch, so I'm out again! Anyway, they are using my minivan this week and I'm using Daddy's car.

Now, I love my van. I have a 2005 Toyota Sienna. Not the top of the line, but it does have some nice features like an automatic door (love that!) But I have to say, I am really enjoying driving around in Husband's Jetta.  I feel so… sporty. Hip. Young. Unlike the Mommymobile. While it is a pretty cool minivan, it remains…. a minivan. Just screams words like "soccer-mom!" and "old fart!" and "I'm-no-longer-hip-and-cool-and-instead-of-U2-I-am-now-listening-to-Veggietales."

Between driving around my little car and seeing my in-laws nice, new 2BR apartment, I am longing for the simple life. Wouldn't it be great to rent an little apartment? No worries. Furnace breaks? Pipes leak? No problem! Call the super! And kissing the big gas-guzzling minivan goodbye. No lawn to mow. No house with 3 bathrooms that a newly potty-trained 3-year-old is still trying to figure out to clean. Sigh.

Of course, last year around this time, we were smooched in a 1 1/2 bedroom rental (yes, that second room was not quite a bedroom) with two kids. And I remember grumbling as I tried to fit car seats, strollers, and various baby paraphernalia into the Jetta. And I remember dreaming about having a yard for the kids to play in and drooling over the real estate pages.

Grass is always greener, I guess. I think I need to be more thankful.

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seriously

What highly paid stylist has Mariah Carey thinking she can get away with wearing things like this? This would be too small for my three-year-old. If she sneezes, she is going to be have a major wardrobe malfunction. Gag.

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sisterly love

Took the girls to Ikea tonight — one of the girls favorite outings because of all the opportunities to run away, hide and freak out Mommy, lots of things to climb and – most of all – the "balls."  One of those ball pits that I'm sure is simply teeming with germs, disease, Bird Flu, etc and I'm a terrible mom for even considering letting them play in there, blah, blah, Purell, blah, Lysol, blah. Whatever.

Anyway, there was this little boy in there (maybe 3?) who was kind-of rough. He kept diving at G1 and trying to scare her. Little did he know that G1 is completely fearless and has the hospital records to prove it.  His mom sat on the bench and kept saying, "Annoying-Rowdy-Boy, stop that. Annoying-Rowdy-Boy, you really need to stop that. Annoying-Rowdy-Boy, you will have to sit in time out," etc which had zero effect on Annoying-Rowdy-Boy. (It actually seemed to encourage him to be more annoyingly rowdy. Hum.) Anyway, he kept throwing balls right at G3's face. But did G3cry? No! She just gave a little annoyed smile as they bounced off her nose while subtly skooching away from the boy. I was very impressed. Thinking much of my own spectacular parenting skills, especially compared to Annoying-Rowdy-Boy's mom.  But then G1 threw a ball that bounced off G3's head. "MOM!! She hit me!! WAHHHHH!!!" 

Sisters. Can't wait until their both teenagers!! Then the fun will really begin!

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brazil v australia

Me: "So, how was the game?"

Husband, currently in Germany who had tickets to above game: "Oh, Babe. It was soooooooo awesome. Wow. Just soooooo awesome."

Guess that about sums it up!

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“the real glass ceiling is at home”

I read this blip in Newsweek. It made me soooooo angry. This woman just wrote a book called “Get to Work: A Manifesto for Women of the World.” This noble work argues that “women should stop wasting their expensive degrees in the nursery.”

As I read about how I am wasting my education, not being fulfilled and hurting all of society in general by staying at home to raise children, my first thought was, “Who is this lady?” So I Googled her. 

She wrote a fascinating article in American Prospect entitled: “Homeward Bound.” She begins with the startling statistic that half of the most-privileged and best-educated women in America are staying at home to (gasp) raise children. She basically argues that ‘true’ feminists need to tell ‘traditional’ women that this choice to stay home is bad for society and bad for them because the lives they’re leading allow too few opportunities for ‘full human flourishing’ and that “the real glass ceiling is at home.”  What is this glass ceiling? Why the degrading roles that are forced upon women in the home.
One of my favorite quotes: “The family — with its repetitious, socially invisible, physical tasks — is a necessary part of life, but it allows fewer opportunities for full human flourishing than public spheres like the market or the government. This less-flourishing sphere is not the natural or moral responsibility only of women. Therefore, assigning it to women is unjust. Women assigning it to themselves is equally unjust. To paraphrase, as Mark Twain said, ‘A man who chooses not to read is just as ignorant as a man who cannot read.’”
This was my very, very favorite quote: “these daughters of the upper classes will be bearing most of the burden of the work always associated with the lowest caste: sweeping and cleaning bodily waste….they have voluntarily become untouchables.”

As much as I would like to intellectually refute all of this, my reaction is simply, “Ex-cuse me??” I am wasting my life and hurting society my raising my children? Lady, you are the one who is damaging society with your mixed-up values.  Money is not the only measure of power and status in a society. Yes, it is a shame that the important, difficult job of “Mother” is unpaid. It is an even bigger shame that the people who care for children professionally (teachers, day care & preschool workers) are paid disgustingly low wages.  But you can never convince me that my time at home with my kids is wasted simply because I am not paid for it. 

According to the article, I am degrading myself by cleaning my house. Hum. I wonder who cleans the author’s house? Perhaps her husband? Or maybe her manservant? Because she certainly couldn’t have hired a woman to do such degrading work. Or maybe she just doesn’t clean. There’s an option. She argues that women should never get a liberal arts degree (because there is not a lot of money to be made there) and we should marry someone poorer, younger or much older to keep our ‘power’ in the relationship and that we should never have more than one child (because women with more than one kid often leave the workforce. So, I’ve done everything opposite than she advises. Good. I also think its hilarious that the author is a philosophy professor (very marketable – snort!) and has three kids.  Do as I say, not as I do, huh?

I’m not sure what her goal was in this article, but she didn’t even make me look seriously at my life. She made me more proud of my choice to invest my time and energy directly into my children and made me ashamed to call myself a feminist.
I could only think about her children. How would I feel if my mother was writing something like this? Telling other women not to waste their time with families and such. Poor kids. This poor author! I feel very sorry for her — that her home life was so terrible that she is trying to get other women to question theirs. That her children are of less value than her career and income.  That the home itself is of such little value to her. Very sad.

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acme adventures

I took both kids to the grocery store today. I realized once I was pulling them out of the car that I haven't done this in awhile. I've been going at night after they are in bed or on Saturday during naps. Hummm…So we get out of the car and walk up to the store.  G3 asks for a 'car' cart. I say, "We have to see if there are any left." Of course, there are not. Sadness over having to use a regular cart. Fight ensues over who gets to ride in what part of the non-car cart. (G1 always wins and gets the seat, after she threw herself out of the back of the cart at Target and ended up in the er with a concussion.)
So we start in the produce section. G3 wants watermelon. Objects to my putting spinach in the cart because she thinks it’s icky.  Catch G3 licking out a little sample bowl that was left in the cart by previous shopper. Gag.  Have to walk past bakery to get to deli. ("Cookie? Cookie? Cookie?" says G1) Get to deli. I am number 67. They are serving number 12. (Okay, really number 58) I wait for my turn while G1 yells, "Carry, Mommy! Carry!!" and tries to stand up in the cart. G3 asks for "Cheese? Mommy, I want a piece of cheese? Can I have one, please?" Every 12.7 seconds until it is finally our turn.
Move on to aisles. Pick up a steak for in-law visit. Buy milk – but naturally Acme does not have organic 2% for G3. Only 1 carton of organic 1%. They have five brands of organic, but no cartons of 2%. So I settle for 1% and keep moving. Kids are getting whiny and begging to open up carton of crackers.
Head for checkout. G3 very helpfully offers to help me unload everything onto the checkout.  While testing my patience helping, she steps on the steak, tears the package of hot dogs, smashed the bread and drops several things on the ground. Our checkout has no bagger, so I'm bagging while G1 goes through my purse dropping useless junk (like credit cards) on the ground.
Go to sign for credit card and G3 gets mad because she wants to color too. Head out to the car, kids being very loud at this point. Get to car and load everything in while kids complain loudly that they are hot, the car is hot, car seats are hot, etc.  Finally — in the car driving home. Ahhhh. Then realize I forgot something on my list. Can't imagine why I wasn't more focused. I will be leaving them at home next time. 

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