As Sam was going to sleep tonight he was telling me about all the people he likes (he has a thing where he says he loves me and also he likes me).  So he went through the list:  “I like you…and Daddy…and Wobby…and Papa…and Meme…and Nanna…and Poppy…and…myself.  I also like myself vewy much.”

Wow.  Now if only I could make sure he feels that way for the rest of his life.

Labels: Talking, The Big One

We made it in. The move went without a hitch. The house is great. Now we are doing the whole UNpacking thing and trying to keep the kids alive while doing so.

The dishwasher holds more than my old one.

The rooms are painted the colors we chose.

The bathroom fixtures are not far from what I would have chosen myself.

The kids now have their own rooms.

Our living room is not overwhelmed by both a TV and a computer (each are in their own separate rooms).

But the best part, you ask? The best part is that at approximately 3:15 school lets out, and at that time ALL of the school buses go by our house heading to the school parking lot and back out again. And at that time, you can find Sam, sitting joyfully in the living room window eating his snack and yelling, “Look! Look! ANOTHER one!” And that, my friends, is a great investment.

I will say, however, we have not a window dressing to speak of, and no intention of doing anything about that until the weekend. The neighbors are getting to know us quite well.

And sorry for the comments being down over the weekend - my brother was moving us to another server and, of course, I didn’t know there was a problem because our computer wasn’t hooked up. Hope all are well. I’ll read blogs again soon, I hope, once we are functioning. I think I have like over 200 posts on bloglines . . . heh, heh.

Labels: House, Pictures, The Big One

All right - about to sign off and pack up the computer. Move is tomorrow. I leave you with a little reminder of how ridiculously horrendous our move from Chicago was two years ago. As long as we don’t get anywhere near that, I think we’ll be ok.

Labels: House

Today was your last day of being two.

(birth)

We went to the zoo, and you helped me push the stroller around.

(Halloween - 5 months)

We rode the train.

(crawling, first vehicle obsession)

You ran around with your friend and chased the geese.

(sick day)

You told me about nine times that tomorrow you wanted “chockat cake . . . with FWOSTING! And Thomas!”

(your sense of humor)

You had a tantrum about eating at the dinner table. I explained that we eat at tables.

(playing in the pool at Mimi and Poppy’s)

You pointed out that the train table is also a table, and that it also has two little chairs . . .

(your first steps)

Dinner was at the train table tonight.

(walking on your own)

As I put you to bed you told me you loved me “so much.”

(my favorite picture of you)

I told you I loved you so much too.

(Christmas - 19 months)

I told you that you were my big boy. You said Yes.

(second birthday)

And I asked you how you got so big, how it had happened so fast.

(Halloween - train engineer, of course)

You wanted to sleep with your “favorite cars: owange O twuck, bwue wace car, and big wed wace car,” as you have every night for the past three weeks. You always list them for me, despite the fact that I have known which are you favorites this whole time.

(first day of school)

I told you that “tomorrow when you wake up, you’ll be three.” How did this happen?

(last week at the carnival)

You fell asleep, snoring and exhausted from your last day as a two year old, with my hand rubbing your head, your arm slung over your eyes, and telling me that you really like cake . . . and pudding too.

Labels: Birthdays, Pictures, The Big One

Ugh, you guys, moving suuuucks. I always forget how bad it is. I hate packing and taking care of all the stuff that goes along with a move, and I get overwhelmed really early on and know that it is something I loathe. But somehow it always ends up being worse than I expect or remember. See that house down below? I hate that house! I want to live in this lame apartment under my especially lame neighbors forever, just so long as I don’t have to pack one more single thing. Ok, I don’t hate it. I’m just ready to be in it.

It was around this time two years ago that we were doing exactly the same thing as we prepared to leave Chicago. It was hard packing with a mobile baby - he got into everything imaginable. A few of you may remember Sam eating the zipper. I thought we’d learned our lesson from that incident but nooooooo. Today Hubby and I were dealing with files and paper shredding, and when I went over to check on Robby he had that exact same expression on his face, causing me to open his mouth and sweep out a tiny piece of plastic that was working its way toward the back of his throat. It was something that had no business being on the floor to begin with ( I think it was a broken piece from the cord to our blinds or something), but of course the whole apartment is covered in packing material and crap right now so everything just kind of blends together. Packing with one baby and one toddler is, well, it’s ridiculous. And now I’ll stop complaining because it will all be over in a week.

And on a really, REALLY good note, I’m going to be writing for Mama Speaks, which I am so happy about. Mama Speaks is an awesome review blog that showcases mom-designed products, eco-friendly tips and merchandise, lesser known charity organizations, and generally very cool stuff for moms. It’s a great place to check out for new products and to get a mom’s opinion on whether or not something is a good purchase for you and your family. I’m sure I’ll be biting my nails when it’s time for my first reviews, but I’m totally excited.

Labels: House, The Little One

****Edited below****

Nothing quite so disconcerting as handing over pretty much ALL of your money in one tidy cashiers check, is there? We closed on the house. All went well. I think my stomach is finally settling down. And, well, I guess we’re home owners now. So I suppose one of us had better get around to mowing that unattended lawn . . . and moving. That would be good too. We move a week from Saturday because we wanted to have work done to it before we brought the kids in. Now I wish we could just get it over with.

You know, this was a very different post when I put it up two hours ago, but it felt wrong (and I apologize for any confusion for the few of you that may have seen it in its original form).  It was sort of a downer, which is not indicative of how my husband and I feel about the purchase of our new home - it felt dishonest and forced.   And most of all, it told details of a story that is not mine to tell, so I’m taking a lot of it out.

What I really want to say is this:

That’s our house.  Those trees? Those are our trees.  That’s where my family is going to live and play and settle.  And we’re so excited about it we can’t stand it.  We can’t wait to be there and wake up for the first time in our new home.

Labels: Bodily functions, House, Pictures