reason #863 (and #864)

Every day I find new reasons to love my husband. Today I found a piece of crumpled paper behind the drawer in our desk, the one that Andy's dad used as a child to do his homework. This is what I found:

Do you have pets? Just call and ask for Andy! Andy has always been a hard worker, from the time he was given a broken lawnmower, fixed it and started to mow lawns in his neighborhood. The summer after his senior year in high school, he took a summer job working in an real office and wearing button down shirts, like a grown up or something. He works so hard at his job now, but works just as hard to maintain a good work-life balance. 

Oh, and reason #864 why I love my husband... he loves dogs so much that he only charges 1$ to walk one. Best business plan? Maybe not, but I'm alright with that.

(probably) the last paint job

Andy and I just finished what we think will be the last paint job in our current home. Ta da!

We first painted this living room in October 2006, shortly after we bought the house. It was originally a lovely mint and hunter green...

So we have put four coats of paint in this room since 2006. It was the first painting project, and the last. It was also the first time we've painted since Levi came into our lives, so that changed the game a little. We prepped during nap times and painted after bedtime, officially finishing the project at 3 a.m. on a Saturday night. Our conversations went something like this:

J: How long do you want to paint tonight? Should we just see how we feel at 11?

A: That sounds good.

20 minutes later...

A: I think we can finish this tonight!

J: Yes! Wouldn't that be great?

Another 20 minutes later...

A: I'm so tired. I think my feet are going to fall off.

J: I can't feel my knees anymore. My hands are cramping up. Oopsies...

A: What?

J: I just dropped the paint brush.

Another 20 minutes and a few cookies later...

A: I'm riding a cookie wave! I think we can do this!

J: Yes! We're almost done! I need another cookie!

Yes, it was a long night, but I will forever cherish the time I spent working side by side with Andy, listening to music that reminded us of different points in our relationship, strategizing how we'd tackle the wall (you take the high road, and I'll take the low road...), dabbing paint on Andy's nose as payback for him moving my chair while I was standing on it. I also spent a lot of time thinking of the people who would hopefully buy our house, whoever they are, that they too would feel love and happiness in this home.

you never know

There are some things we can predict or at least imagine in our future. Like having a kid or two, or maybe moving to a new house.  I never thought I'd do what I did today...

called my dog over and asked her to lick 

some smashed food crumbs off my child's pant leg. 

Yes, seriously.

Like they say, a dog is a man's best friend. And vacuum.

on the move

When life starts getting easy, that's the time to throw everything up in the air again! Back in early, early spring, a little seed was planted in our minds that we should consider selling our townhouse and move into a single family home with more bedrooms. Andy and I decided to wait until summer was over before we did any real thinking. This week we chose a realtor and have our list of improvement and staging things to do. I love a good list, and this one is a doozy! The main items:

1. Paint. Fortunately, the realtor only wants us to paint our living room. That was one of the first rooms we painted, and we never really loved the color, so I'm ok with this. Goodbye, Winthrop Peach. Hello, Home Sweet Home. (Those are Benjamin Moore colors.)

2. Granite. I hate the idea of sinking money into the house, but we're supposed to get that money back on the sale price. I know I'll be sad to put in a nice countertop and new sink, then leave it all behind.

3. Moving furniture. We have a list of musical furniture items to move from room to room or into the garage for storage. Good thing she isn't telling us to move our piano or our bedroom furniture. Way too heavy.


4. Cleaning. Obviously, we'll polish up the stove, appliances, etc. Give the floor a good steaming. I'd like to think we don't have a crazy overabundance of baby toys laying around, so that should be easy enough to contain in a toy box when we start showing the house.

Deep breaths! I think we can do this! Above all, we are keeping our goals in mind and praying that if this is not the right timing for us, then we will know it.

the germ pit

Levi and I went to the mall play place today, what I lovingly refer to as the germ pit. I'm not a hyper germaphobe, but I still cringe when I see a snotty kid running around in shared spaced like that. But I digress...


Today at the germ pit, this is what we learned:


1. Levi likes his personal space. Whenever a kid would get in his bubble, he'd put his arms out and sometimes make a monster face.


2. You don't have to be perfect to be happy. This lovely looking mother joined the pit with her three kids, 3.5 years, 17 months and 6 weeks. She had her infant strapped to her chest and kept having to pick up the runaway 17-month-old by his overalls, but she looked so put together and calm, smiling at her adorable kiddos. I thought to myself "wow, she really has it together!" even as she nursed her little baby under a cover while walking around, patrolling her kids. Then I realized her oldest daughter was wearing her jeans backwards. Perfect doesn't necessarily mean your clothes are on straight!


3. I am a mama bear. When some older (and should-have-known-better) kid started tromping on Levi and practically sitting on him, smushing him into a corner, it took all my restraint to not give that kid a real talking to. 


4. My son is part boy, part Swiss clock. He's playing, having fun, enjoying the commotion, then precisely at 3:00 he crawls to me, whines and starts digging at the diaper bag. Snack time! You'd think he'd forget about it with all the fun going on, but nope. We take a 15-minute break for strawberries and a graham cracker, then he's back in the game. "I'm ready for round two, coach."

up, up and away

My little guy Levi, now almost 14 months old, has flown with me 7 times. (Once was a one-way back from a family Christmas road-trip, thus the odd number.) The longest trip was from D.C. to Oregon, with a stop in Chicago, and it's amazing how easy a 2-hour flight now seems! This -- in list form, because I love lists and you will be reading many lists from me -- is how we survived, maybe even thrived, on our most recent trip.


1. Check in. This is the least graceful part, with me lugging the car seat (giant, convertible carseat) in its carrier bag with strap, pushing the wheely suitcase and pushing the stroller. I'd scooch Levi and the carseat up a few steps, then drag the suitcase behind me. I figured the line wasn't going anywhere fast, so if I took my time and looked calm, I'd look competent.


2. Security. Somehow I managed to score the special line for wheely people, which had no line and no harried business people breathing down your neck. Excellent. I'm able to keep Levi on my hip while I collapse the stroller and hoist it onto the belt. I collect my stuff, strap the boy back in his seat and I'm on my way before the guy in front of me has finished putting his belt back on!


3. Waiting to board. This is the worst part, I think. Levi just wants to get out of the stroller and push it (which I won't allow because I don't want him running over people or things). He settles for just being able to squat near the wheels and inspect the brakes. A nice lady talks to me a little, tells me about her grandkids and generally makes the world seems like a more friendly place.


4. Boarding. So much for pre-boarding! By the time they announce that, they've already called for the first group of passengers. I collapse the stroller for gate check and tie it up with a bungee cord since it pops open sometimes and I don't want it to be mangled. 


5. Getting settled. I stash the diaper bag (filled with toys), lunch box (attached to diaper bag, filled with food) and my bag (filled with my wallet, etc. and the magical iPad) all under the seat in front of me. I wait patiently for my seat neighbor to join. Phew, it's a nice, narrow man who actually says hello when I say hello! Much better than the business men who pretend you don't exist in hopes that it'll keep your kid quiet.


6. Take-off. Levi has his binky (usually only for car and nap), and he alternates that with some sweet potato baby puffs. All of a sudden, I notice the puff eating has slowed down and he's closing his little eyes. What?! He's going to sleep in my lap? A rare occurrence that I do not take for granted. That lasts the first 45 minutes while he does that twitchy thing people do when they are in a deep sleep. I watch HGTV without headphones.


7. Mid-air. Once he wakes from his power-nap, I immediately get out the lunch. I've cut up Levi's sandwich (hummus and turkey on whole wheat bread) and smushed it into a little lunch container. Not an attractive presentation, but he goes with the flow. Follows that with a bag of strawberries. Cries when all the food is gone. I distract with books/toys/etc., but really he just wants more food and then somehow we're almost ready to land!


8. Landing. Uneventful, but I realize I didn't even have to break out the iPad. Levi doesn't understand the concept of headphones yet, but he can be entertained with it anyway if necessary.


9. Daddy! Daddy parked the car and waited for us at baggage claim, even though I thought he'd just pull around like normal. That was a nice surprise. Made me feel special. ;)


No one is handing out medals for successful air travel with a baby or toddler, but it sure does feel good when it all works!

why pancakes?

Two years ago, my husband and I had a meeting as we often do when we have something important to discuss. It was a celebration of sorts. We were ready to Start Trying (for a baby). And because I love lists, we created a list of rules for our journey to parenthood. The very last item on the list was:

Remember the pancakes.

Honestly, we did not know what lay ahead. This could be the most crazy, the most challenging, sleep deprived ride, that we ever boarded. I had a vision of us crying out “Oh why are we doing this?!” as we attempted to soothe a red-faced baby in the middle of the night. So we decided to just remember this: Someday soon, there will be a lazy Saturday when the house is a calm mess, little shoes are scattered underfoot, and our family – however big it gets – will be munching on pancakes, reading the comics together. That’s why, in the good and the bad, we remember the pancakes.