I’m not sure what I was thinking when my mother-in-law asked if it was still alright for her and our two nieces, to come visit over spring break (after I told them we in the midst of packing and getting our house ready to sell) and I said SURE! We welcomed them into our very small, two bedroom/one bath home last night and I’m already dreading the fact I’ve got to go back and touch-up all the walls and baseboards that I just touched-up with paint this week.

I thought that today we’d get out of the house and destroy someone else’s property. So off to the children’s museum we headed. Great plan considering every child in the tri-state area is out of school and every mom on their last frazzled nerve headed there too!

It was fun and the kids did enjoy the exhibits and a special dinosaur presentation, but it only lasted a few hours before we were back home and bouncing off our own walls again. Really it isn’t the fact that they make messes and seem to go through drinks like small camels. My issue is the yelling. And the door slamming. And the whining. I can’t handle those three things for very long without losing it entirely.

You know how it is with disciplining someone else’s child. I’m stern and not afraid to tell either of them to stop jumping on the bed or to pick up their toys, but I feel out of place telling them to knock it off or else - over and over again.

Ethan’s been a little upset with the fact that he gets in trouble for doing the same things his cousins don’t get in trouble for. We don’t tolerate a lot of the behaviors that they are allowed to display. At the museum today I had packed snacks and drinks for everyone. When we sat down to eat, one of my nieces threw a fit about getting a snack from the vending machine and not eating one of the 3 things I packed. My MIL quickly gave in and then offered to get Ethan something as well. I refused stating that he could eat what I brought or do without. He didn’t protest, because he knew that is how we roll.

It’s the little differences like that which make things hard. But he is enjoying spending time with them, even if they are bouncing all over 1,000 square feet of our home. My husband worked today leaving me to provide the entertainment, but tomorrow night I’m headed here to watch my friend try not to break anything.

I spent all day Saturday cleaning our basement - packing, organizing and separating the trash from the donation pile. During that time my husband was upstairs putting crown molding and trying to install a new bathroom sink. We really know how to live it up around here on the weekends. This week my to-do list includes painting and more painting.

All this work is in preparation for moving to a new home in a few months. That’s right, we have found a place just outside the city and not very far from our work. It isn’t exactly where we thought we’d end up, but something about it makes us feel at home.

What I love about this new house most is the location. There is nothing down the road. Just a few homes on our street and hardly any traffic. This means the only sounds we will hear are crickets and toads at night. It will take some time to get used to, but I feel like I’ve spent the last 3 years in tune with the noises that city-life brings. Mostly the sirens that travel out street and the helicopters that fly over our house several times a day. Each time I hear those sounds my world stops and I relive a moment in my life that doesn’t seem to ever fully disappear.

I know moving away will not make it go away, but it will give me more than a few hours at a time where I forget. Maybe if I forget for long enough, the next time I hear a firetruck my mind won’t automatically take me to that place where my life and time stood still.

One of the things I painted today was Ethan’s closet door. Nate had stenciled a growth chart on there before he was born and every so often we’d measure him, and write it on the door. Obviously, whoever buys our house will probably not care to have our scribblings on their closet door, so we decided to paint over it now.

I had to take pictures before I did that of course. What I noticed was that the day before the car accident (7-8-04) that caused all these anxieties, we measured Ethan at just under 3 feet tall. Last night (3-24-08) when we had him stand up to the closet door for the last time he was just over 4 feet.

What makes my heart stop is wondering what would have happened if 3 feet was all I got to know of him. When I think of what has occurred between those dates I realize that hearing a daily reminder of why I’m here isn’t as bad as it truly sounds.

We got over 6 inches of rain yesterday and it’s still raining. School was even canceled today and is on a 2 hour delay for tomorrow as of right now. The weather has been unbelievable around here this winter. One day it’s 60 and sunny, and the next day is freezing rain.

As I was driving home today I was stopped behind a vehicle at a stoplight and saw that the driver was holding something out his window. I couldn’t really tell what he was doing, but then the light turned green and as he drove through the intersection it was clear.

He was driving and hanging half out the window cleaning, the rain off his windshield with a squeegee like this. I am assuming his windshield wipers were not working and he could not see where he was going, because why else would someone do this? (Which makes me glad I was behind him and not in front of him.)

The New 2008 Windshield Wipers - Manual Labor Required

Can you imagine driving and trying to clean your windows like this when it is pouring down outside? He had to be soaked. Not only that but it looked absolutely ridiculous. It is moments like this that I wish I had a camera to document the craziness I often seem to observe. Maybe I will start carrying one in my car.

It has taken Nate over 8 years to get used to my language. We grew up only 6 1/2 hours away from each other in the same state, yet you would think we are from different planets from the way we describe things. His city was much larger than my town, but very similar in economic make-up. The way we communicate is very different though.

He is direct and to the point. He doesn’t tell stories. And he certainly doesn’t jump from subject to subject. There are definite pauses in his speaking style.

On the other hand, I randomly discuss whatever is on my mind. I may be in the middle of one story and remember that I ran into our old neighbor at the grocery store today. In my world it is important to tell him right there in the middle of the story about the old neighbor. In Nate’s world it is distracting and annoying.

I also use words that make no sense to him. Of course they make perfect sense to me. When I ask him to bring me the doohickie, he should know what I’m talking about right?

Please tell me that these words are part of your everyday language:

Comeapart
Comeupins’
Thingamajig
Thingamabob
Doohickie
Tarnation
Upheaval

In other news, you should go visit Props & Pans. We’ve been giving away some fabulous things lately and I recently reviewed ThinkBlocks, which is a unique educational game that stimulates young minds in a creative manner. We are giving away a set worth $79, but you must leave a comment before Tuesday, March 18th. Hurry!

Also check out the Must Have Monday’s DVD giveaway and our new Announcement page. All good information.

Today my feet are worth $240. I wrote a check for my portion of the deductible at physical therapy today for $140. They sent me home with new orthotics (insoles custom made to fit my feet and support my arch) and a heavy brown paper bag that contained these.

I will admit to you that I wear a size 11 shoe. You know what they say about women with big feet don’t you? They can never find shoes!

What is funny is that the therapy guy who made these molds of my feet a few weeks ago, told me he had to find a larger sack for them to fit in. As if I didn’t know my feet were big, he had to reaffirm that knowledge. In front of other people of course!

It was kind of interesting seeing the differences between my two feet. See how my second toe is longer than my big toe? My grandma always told me that means you are smart. She said this before I failed college algebra 9 times. You can also see that my right ankle is obviously the bad one. See how the ankle area bulges out. That is how it is normally with no swelling.

I wasn’t even sure why they were sending those molds home with me, but I have a pretty good idea of what to do with them. I’m thinking Ethan might want to paint and decorate them, and then we can make bookends with them. What do you think?