Nearly 30 days since my last post. Honestly, I thought that maybe I'd stop blogging. I thought that with all the changes, the new set of expectations, and my new "job", I just didn't have time to write. Well, this is my second day home alone, and really, you can only wipe off the counters so many times before you get bored.
So here I am. In my new house. In Georgia. It's pretty damn awesome. Yes, I only have one working bathroom. And yes, it doesn't have a sink. Sure, we're still brushing our teeth in the kitchen sink, but you know what? I don't care. I'm in my own house. Oh, AND...it has a dishwasher! I've never had a dishwasher before, so that's exciting...if getting excited about appliances is your thing. Apparently it's mine. Which is a little bothersome because I'm not the kind of girl who gets all giddy over appliances. For instance, last night I was cooking dinner and I pushed a button on the microwave (it had a picture of a light bulb on it) and what do you know? A light came on! But before you go scoffing and thinking I'm total retard, let me explain. The microwave is over the stove, so when I pushed the button, I thought that the light INSIDE the microwave would come on. Nope, light UNDER the microwave came on, so my stove top was lit up. Ok, I know, this wouldn't excite many people, but it thrilled the hell out of me.
I'm almost done unpacking. It's been a little nerve rattling because the other day I moved a box and the biggest cockroach I've ever seen jumped out and tried to kill me, worse, he brought his brother to help. The kids were sitting on the bed and Davey jumped up and shrieked like a girl, he started jumping up and down on the bed, Kat was waving her arms around screaming, I on the other hand, was very calm. I calmly said, oh my, a large cockroach. I need to kill it. Yeah...not so much. I let out a bloodcurdling Jaime Lee Curtis "Halloween" scream and ran out of the room. Chris was standing in the kitchen laughing. I was like, did you not hear me screaming? He was like, yeah, I heard you. I was like, weren't you going to check to make sure we were ok? Aren't you concerned for the welfare of your wife and children? He was all, no. I figured you saw a bug. I was like, well...I did. But you're a jerk. I finally convinced him to stop laughing at me and come kill it. He found the first one and stomped on it, but the second one ran under the bed and Chris wouldn't go find it. He said if I feel compelled to crawl under the bed and look for a cockroach I should do so, but he wasn't going to. I decided I didn't really want to either. Now, every time I move a box, I expect to see a cockroach. We found a dead one in the bathroom that wasn't there when we first moved in, Chris said it was probably the one that ran under the bed. He said the house has been bug sprayed, so it was just a matter of time before it died. I'm not sure if I believe him, but I haven't seen any more yet, so I hope he's telling the truth and not just waiting for me to amuse him with more screaming and flailing about.
Everyone warned me that there would be big bugs here, I just had to get used to them. I think I'm getting the hang of it. Yesterday morning I was sitting at the table drinking my coffee when I saw this big brown hoppy crawly bug. Some kind of beetle on steroids or something. He was prancing around in his annoying little bug way thinking he's the shit. I calmly put my coffee cup down, picked up a hammer and smashed the crap out of him. I was like, that's right, bitch. Who's the badass now?
Showing posts with label the big move. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the big move. Show all posts
The quick and dirty update
It's been so long since I've written a real post (not that this is a real post, because it's really not), I don't even know where to begin. My head is in a million different places lately. Maine, Georgia and everywhere in between. We closed on the house on November 9. It was this huge relief followed by an overwhelming need to throw up. Are we really doing this? Did we seriously just buy a house? Yeah, we really did.
This past weekend we flew down to do some painting, which totally sucked. At first, it was kind of fun because it was all, yay! Working on OUR house! But that really didn't last long because painting really sucks. The carpets had already been ripped out, so we spent the entire weekend (from 8 am to after midnight every day) walking, crawling and kneeling on concrete floors, which I'd like to add did wonders for my already sore and arthritic knee. Yeah, I know I sound about 87, I don't care. It hurts. Also, just like every other project we work on together, Chris and I bickered almost the entire time. I think he paints like a blind, handless retard, and he thinks I'm too bossy. Clearly, he's wrong and I'm right.
We're leaving here around the 9th of December, which is more than 3 weeks earlier than we'd planned on, so I've really been scrambling to get everything done. The moving truck comes either the 2nd or 3rd (because they need a 2 day window for pick up) and we're all moving in with my parents until we leave. I think after living with me, Chris, the kids and our 3 dogs, by the time the 9th rolls around, she's going to be more than ready for us to leave. I'm looking forward to it though (as crazy as it sounds), she and I have worked really hard to mend fences and turn over a new leaf and all those other nice-sounding metaphors than really mean stop being a jerk to each other.
So that's the quick and dirty update. I promise I'll be back to normal posting again soon, I'm just so overwhelmed with all this right now, I hardly have time to think. Tomorrow I'll tell you all about our air travel adventure from this weekend and Chris' brush with getting arrested by TSA because I'm a spaz.
This past weekend we flew down to do some painting, which totally sucked. At first, it was kind of fun because it was all, yay! Working on OUR house! But that really didn't last long because painting really sucks. The carpets had already been ripped out, so we spent the entire weekend (from 8 am to after midnight every day) walking, crawling and kneeling on concrete floors, which I'd like to add did wonders for my already sore and arthritic knee. Yeah, I know I sound about 87, I don't care. It hurts. Also, just like every other project we work on together, Chris and I bickered almost the entire time. I think he paints like a blind, handless retard, and he thinks I'm too bossy. Clearly, he's wrong and I'm right.
We're leaving here around the 9th of December, which is more than 3 weeks earlier than we'd planned on, so I've really been scrambling to get everything done. The moving truck comes either the 2nd or 3rd (because they need a 2 day window for pick up) and we're all moving in with my parents until we leave. I think after living with me, Chris, the kids and our 3 dogs, by the time the 9th rolls around, she's going to be more than ready for us to leave. I'm looking forward to it though (as crazy as it sounds), she and I have worked really hard to mend fences and turn over a new leaf and all those other nice-sounding metaphors than really mean stop being a jerk to each other.
So that's the quick and dirty update. I promise I'll be back to normal posting again soon, I'm just so overwhelmed with all this right now, I hardly have time to think. Tomorrow I'll tell you all about our air travel adventure from this weekend and Chris' brush with getting arrested by TSA because I'm a spaz.
Oh, the joys of air travel
Hey y'all! I'm practicing my accent because...we have a house!! The offer has been accepted and we close in November! I'm so unbelievably relieved. It would've really sucked to move in January and have no house. We actually flew down this weekend to do a walk through, sign the papers and start the list of stuff that needs to be done, which is why I've been ignoring my blog. And you thought I was just being lazy.
Chris and I left Saturday and it was really cool because we've never flown anywhere without the kids. It was really nice to not have to be paranoid in the airport, looking around frantically for your children who can't seem to grasp what stay right next to me means. Try playing that game in LaGuardia. Super fun. Anyway, it was a pretty big plane, 3 seats on each side. I took the window seat, Chris in the middle and someone else in the aisle seat. On the first flight, that someone else was a very, VERY drunk man. He reeked of liquor. During the takeoff he kept taking his shoes off and playing with his feet, which also smelled. Then as soon as we were in the air, the guy reached in his bag and pulled out a fifth of vodka. I can't even get a Diet Coke through security and this guy has a fifth? Whatever. Maybe he bought it in the airport, which would be even worse because it was almost empty. So anyway, this dude kept getting up and stumbling down the aisle to the bathroom, where the poor stewardesses were like, Sir? Sir, we need you to take your seat. Then he'd stagger back to his seat, drool on Chris a little bit and drink some more. Right before we landed, he wiped the drool off his chin and PULLED OUT HIS TEETH. For real. Then he fell back asleep. Chris was like, next time I'm NOT sitting in the middle. I hate you. I found the whole thing hilarious until we were actually in the terminal. Chris and I were standing in front of one of those big maps looking for the best place to eat, and the guy walks buy and grabs my ass. I was like, that drunk guy just grabbed my ass! Chris says, yeah, try sitting next to him for an hour and half. Sucks doesn't it. Fair enough I suppose.
So after our whole weekend extravaganza, Chris and I were looking forward to going home, sleeping in our own bed, seeing the kids, all that good stuff. Just wanted a nice, restful flight back. I was really tired and wanted to take a nap on the plane, which was a great plan until the big dumb animal sitting next to me spilled Diet Coke all over my leg. He didn't do it once, but twice. Oh and that big dumb animal? Yeah, that was Chris. At first I was really mad because my leg was really cold and I was getting a little travel weary. I was like, what the hell? Would you pay attention to what you're doing? He's like, I'm sorry, I hit it with my arm. I didn't mean to. So I said, well are you going to do anything about it? He's like, what do you want me do? Now all I really meant was that I wanted him to get some napkins so I could mop up the puddle of Diet Coke in my lap, but because I'm a total smartass and kind of a bitch, I said, you want to make it right, why don't pour the rest of that on yourself. And you know what that fool did? He picked up his Diet Coke and dumped it in his lap. He was like, now we can be wet and miserable together. I was like, aww, you're the best travel buddy ever.
So even though we had to brave the crowded seats, drunks and laps full of Diet Coke, we had an awesome weekend. And did I mention we have a house? Hell yeah, y'all.
Chris and I left Saturday and it was really cool because we've never flown anywhere without the kids. It was really nice to not have to be paranoid in the airport, looking around frantically for your children who can't seem to grasp what stay right next to me means. Try playing that game in LaGuardia. Super fun. Anyway, it was a pretty big plane, 3 seats on each side. I took the window seat, Chris in the middle and someone else in the aisle seat. On the first flight, that someone else was a very, VERY drunk man. He reeked of liquor. During the takeoff he kept taking his shoes off and playing with his feet, which also smelled. Then as soon as we were in the air, the guy reached in his bag and pulled out a fifth of vodka. I can't even get a Diet Coke through security and this guy has a fifth? Whatever. Maybe he bought it in the airport, which would be even worse because it was almost empty. So anyway, this dude kept getting up and stumbling down the aisle to the bathroom, where the poor stewardesses were like, Sir? Sir, we need you to take your seat. Then he'd stagger back to his seat, drool on Chris a little bit and drink some more. Right before we landed, he wiped the drool off his chin and PULLED OUT HIS TEETH. For real. Then he fell back asleep. Chris was like, next time I'm NOT sitting in the middle. I hate you. I found the whole thing hilarious until we were actually in the terminal. Chris and I were standing in front of one of those big maps looking for the best place to eat, and the guy walks buy and grabs my ass. I was like, that drunk guy just grabbed my ass! Chris says, yeah, try sitting next to him for an hour and half. Sucks doesn't it. Fair enough I suppose.
So after our whole weekend extravaganza, Chris and I were looking forward to going home, sleeping in our own bed, seeing the kids, all that good stuff. Just wanted a nice, restful flight back. I was really tired and wanted to take a nap on the plane, which was a great plan until the big dumb animal sitting next to me spilled Diet Coke all over my leg. He didn't do it once, but twice. Oh and that big dumb animal? Yeah, that was Chris. At first I was really mad because my leg was really cold and I was getting a little travel weary. I was like, what the hell? Would you pay attention to what you're doing? He's like, I'm sorry, I hit it with my arm. I didn't mean to. So I said, well are you going to do anything about it? He's like, what do you want me do? Now all I really meant was that I wanted him to get some napkins so I could mop up the puddle of Diet Coke in my lap, but because I'm a total smartass and kind of a bitch, I said, you want to make it right, why don't pour the rest of that on yourself. And you know what that fool did? He picked up his Diet Coke and dumped it in his lap. He was like, now we can be wet and miserable together. I was like, aww, you're the best travel buddy ever.
So even though we had to brave the crowded seats, drunks and laps full of Diet Coke, we had an awesome weekend. And did I mention we have a house? Hell yeah, y'all.
Where's Dr. Phil when you really need him?
The last couple of days have been crazy. We decided that we were done messing around, that June was too far away and that we REALLY hate being cold. We want to move in January. I think we're really close to finding the right house. I hesitate to say too much, because I don't want to jinx it. If I believed in jinxes, which I don't, but you know what I mean. I promise, as soon as I know anything for sure, I'll share it with you guys.
Anyway, since we're really trying to involve the kids in all this, I talked to them about moving early, which they were both totally fine with. Davey poured over the different listings, scanning each picture, weighing the pros and cons, being very methodical (sounds like anyone you know?), Kat on the other hand was like, which ones have pools? I showed her. She says, Yeah. It should have a pool. As long as it has a pool and I have a pink room, I'm happy. With that she fluttered out of the room in her "I'm a princess way". Everything seemed to be ok, they were excited. Then last night, Davey says, I'm tired. I think I'm just going to go to bed. It was like 7:30. I knew immediately something was up. So I pushed a little bit and was like, c'mon buddy, what's going on? Then he burst into tears and starts talking about how he's scared to move because no one will want to be friends with him, how he's different than the other kids, how sometimes all he wants is to be one of the popular kids, how he doesn't understand why the other boys walk away when he's talking to them...on and on. My heart broke in a million pieces.
Davey has always marched to the beat of his own drummer. He's not like other kids. He's ridiculously smart, he's funny, witty, and in my opinion, pretty damn cool. I think that's a great thing, but for him it's starting to be a problem. His ongoing anxiety issues don't help anything and I really, really don't want to put him on medication again. I told him that he's special the way that he is and that I admire him for not being ashamed of being who he is, but that giving the other kids a chance wouldn't be so bad. I suggested that maybe he try to play kickball or football with them at recess and give them a chance, maybe they'd give him a chance. So what's a mom to do? Do I tell him to let his freak flag fly? Do I tell him that it doesn't matter what other kids think? Can I tell him that his anxiety is holding him back without sending him into an anxiety attack? Do I tell him not to bother trying to play with the other kids because they can be so judgemental and stupid? Do I shelter him or should I be honest? To make matters worse, Kat is pretty popular which only makes David feel worse.
This morning David was better. Still a little hesitant, but said he would try to make more of an effort to be included. Did I do the right thing telling him to try harder? This is my baby we're talking about...help me internet!
Anyway, since we're really trying to involve the kids in all this, I talked to them about moving early, which they were both totally fine with. Davey poured over the different listings, scanning each picture, weighing the pros and cons, being very methodical (sounds like anyone you know?), Kat on the other hand was like, which ones have pools? I showed her. She says, Yeah. It should have a pool. As long as it has a pool and I have a pink room, I'm happy. With that she fluttered out of the room in her "I'm a princess way". Everything seemed to be ok, they were excited. Then last night, Davey says, I'm tired. I think I'm just going to go to bed. It was like 7:30. I knew immediately something was up. So I pushed a little bit and was like, c'mon buddy, what's going on? Then he burst into tears and starts talking about how he's scared to move because no one will want to be friends with him, how he's different than the other kids, how sometimes all he wants is to be one of the popular kids, how he doesn't understand why the other boys walk away when he's talking to them...on and on. My heart broke in a million pieces.
Davey has always marched to the beat of his own drummer. He's not like other kids. He's ridiculously smart, he's funny, witty, and in my opinion, pretty damn cool. I think that's a great thing, but for him it's starting to be a problem. His ongoing anxiety issues don't help anything and I really, really don't want to put him on medication again. I told him that he's special the way that he is and that I admire him for not being ashamed of being who he is, but that giving the other kids a chance wouldn't be so bad. I suggested that maybe he try to play kickball or football with them at recess and give them a chance, maybe they'd give him a chance. So what's a mom to do? Do I tell him to let his freak flag fly? Do I tell him that it doesn't matter what other kids think? Can I tell him that his anxiety is holding him back without sending him into an anxiety attack? Do I tell him not to bother trying to play with the other kids because they can be so judgemental and stupid? Do I shelter him or should I be honest? To make matters worse, Kat is pretty popular which only makes David feel worse.
This morning David was better. Still a little hesitant, but said he would try to make more of an effort to be included. Did I do the right thing telling him to try harder? This is my baby we're talking about...help me internet!
The big move
I've been going crazy this past week, I've really needed to just write, vent, whatever. And now that all the major players know, I can share with everyone else. We're moving. To Georgia.
It's crazy because I've lived in Maine my whole life, hell, I've lived in the same town my whole life, and there is nothing I want more than to get the hell out of here. Don't get me wrong, there are great things about Maine. Leaves changing in the fall,winter sports, snow, shoveling, the happening night life, driving at least an hour to do anything, and Fluff (like peanut butter and Fluff, did you know that's a Northern thing? I was kinda bummed when I found out). Chris and I have wanted to move for a long, long time. We'd always planned on moving when the kids graduated from high school, but we were presented an opportunity that we just couldn't pass up. So by this time next summer, I'll be writing from my new home in Georgia.
This weekend was really brutal. Kat did her last performance with the gym that she cheers at. She's decided that with the move happening in the spring/early summer, it would just be too much to be 100% committed to all-star cheering. I don't really disagree with her. It's a lot of commitment for all of us (her gym is an hour away), not mention the money. I'm really hoping that when we move I'll be able to stay home for a while with the kids to help them get adjusted. I'd love to be able to find a job that I could just work from home (suggestions, anyone?), but either way, this move is going to be expensive, and by her not cheering, we're going to save a ton of money.
When we weren't doing the cheering thing with Kat, we were putting away all the stuff that my parents brought back from my grandparents house in New York. They brought back beds, dressers, a ton of tools for Chris, and it's all dusty and dirty because it hasn't been taken care of in the year since they both passed away. We still have stuff to put away, but we're so tired and sweaty, we just gave up for today. We did get the kids' rooms all done. I have no counter or dining room table to speak of because there are tools all over it, but we'll try to tackle it again tomorrow. I think I'm also just emotionally spent.
I spent the whole week freaking out about telling my mom, afraid she wouldn't react well. We told her Saturday night. Pretty much my worst fears about it were confirmed. I'm hoping that she can get to a place where she can be happy for us, but that time just isn't now.
I'm so torn in a million different directions. It's like, I know this is the best thing for me, Chris and especially the kids, but I don't want to hurt my mom. I want desperately to leave, but I don't want to piss anyone off or burn my bridges. Gah, it all makes my head hurt.
It's crazy because I've lived in Maine my whole life, hell, I've lived in the same town my whole life, and there is nothing I want more than to get the hell out of here. Don't get me wrong, there are great things about Maine. Leaves changing in the fall,
This weekend was really brutal. Kat did her last performance with the gym that she cheers at. She's decided that with the move happening in the spring/early summer, it would just be too much to be 100% committed to all-star cheering. I don't really disagree with her. It's a lot of commitment for all of us (her gym is an hour away), not mention the money. I'm really hoping that when we move I'll be able to stay home for a while with the kids to help them get adjusted. I'd love to be able to find a job that I could just work from home (suggestions, anyone?), but either way, this move is going to be expensive, and by her not cheering, we're going to save a ton of money.
When we weren't doing the cheering thing with Kat, we were putting away all the stuff that my parents brought back from my grandparents house in New York. They brought back beds, dressers, a ton of tools for Chris, and it's all dusty and dirty because it hasn't been taken care of in the year since they both passed away. We still have stuff to put away, but we're so tired and sweaty, we just gave up for today. We did get the kids' rooms all done. I have no counter or dining room table to speak of because there are tools all over it, but we'll try to tackle it again tomorrow. I think I'm also just emotionally spent.
I spent the whole week freaking out about telling my mom, afraid she wouldn't react well. We told her Saturday night. Pretty much my worst fears about it were confirmed. I'm hoping that she can get to a place where she can be happy for us, but that time just isn't now.
I'm so torn in a million different directions. It's like, I know this is the best thing for me, Chris and especially the kids, but I don't want to hurt my mom. I want desperately to leave, but I don't want to piss anyone off or burn my bridges. Gah, it all makes my head hurt.
