TheMommyBlog

Monday, February 15, 2010 Bad Mood Dude, Family

I’m up again at the crack of six to start the day, hauled ten bins to the POD, swept up an orchid I kicked across the room last night in sheer frustration and exhaustion, and started making coffee.

I’m doing that thousand-yard stare out the window over the sink when this… clown…car? Pulls up in front of the house. Huh, could be lost. No, they are looking right at me, with the water running over the top of the coffee pot in my disbelief. I opened to door because, really, I needed to hear this.

“We’re here to take measurements for the termite company.” He was actually carrying a measuring wheel, so I shrugged and said have at it, and then went back to have another look at the car. It was a mini-compact-wee-car with brightly appliqued side advertising for—I kid you not—Animal petting for parties, a logo for Kiddieworld, and another I didn’t catch before they drove off, but I sure hope it had something to do with termites because that would be the all-time champion side-of-the-car business sticker. I did notice the slogan: “Three businesses to serve your needs!” Well, I now need a drink. Does that thing have a tap of Jaeger in the dash?

Now that I’ve delivered that last up-to-the-ceiling carload of stuff to my cousin, including a life-sized black Spidey-doll and a 40 of Malt Liquor, there are only a few things left that I’ve been storing for people. Mr. X needs to pick up his bike, battery jumper, some art, and a suede jacket I was sorely tempted to “forget” was his. It’s very nice. Trouble is, he’s thrown his back out and my bloody, battered hands can barely close to carry things (and you should see how much correcting I’m doing as I type along) so we have a Mexican standoff. Either he’s got to come get everything or I’m going to have to load up my car again and take it to him.

And I got an email from the Realtor this morning asking if I was ready for our exciting! Week! Ahead! Depending on the definition of “ready” I have sterilized the children’s rooms and most of mine, the other rooms just need a final bulldoze—I was literally using my forearm to sweep things off surfaces into huge rubber bins last night—so we can stage the furniture. I’m beginning to wonder how we’re going to live here. I mean, we still live here, am I right? Only, now it doesn’t feel like it and I’m tempted to go rent another place before this one sells so we can relax. And yes, I’m aware of the added expense, but as long as I have to tent the house and tear out the entire Master Bath, there’s not much point in staying, is there?

So. Checklist. Today: housing inspector and staging. Tuesday: In-house Realtor tour. Wednesday: virtual tour photographer from Sacramento. Thursday and Friday I contemplate my navel. Saturday and Sunday: open house. The following Wednesday: All-out Realtor tour. Must remember to move smelly shoe bin to garage. And sweep up in there.

There had better be a good lump of cash at the end of all this, because I will need it for meds and recovery. And massages. And you know, maybe I should just take everyone away for the summer and rent a vacation house for a couple months until we can come back fresh. And then someone will just give us a new house out of the kindness of their hearts and maybe the rest of my family might even want to know where we’ll be living. Haven’t heard from anyone outside my mom and stepdad about the move, I dunno, maybe it’s not as big a deal as it seems. Or maybe I’m feeling petulant. Probably the latter.

Coffee!

Sunday, February 14, 2010 Family

Andrew is good to go, but looks like he’s getting a little impatient waiting for Lola to finish putting her face on.

Me? Just got back from Target where I dropped another hundred dollars on bins. I’m rockin’ the living room and kitchen tonight. No one should live anywhere longer than three years. Too much STUFF.

Saturday, February 13, 2010 Family

Last night I packed the children up to go to their father’s, where they spent the night before driving to Tahoe to spend the week with my parents and other family. I’m staying behind to pack the house and get it ready for people to start viewing it. They didn’t want to go without me, and I didn’t like it either, but I have too much to do, and my car would never make it through all the places where chains are required.

As Dylan stood hugging me on the sidewalk, he said, “You’re the best mom, ever.”

“And you’re the best son, ever.”

“Okay… but I don’t feel that way.”

“Wait. Honey. Look at me.” I knelt down so I could look right into his eyes. “You are the best son I could hope for. You and your brother both, in different ways, in wonderful ways. I don’t think you know how amazing you are, and how much I need you and love you. I don’t know how I would live without you. Besides, you said you’d take care of me when I’m old!”

He laughed, a little. Then he looked at me with pupils as wide as anything and said, “You know what the worst part of living is?”

“No, baby, what is it?”

“That someday your parents are going to die.”

I hugged him tight, kissing his hair, his ear, his face. “Oh, honey. No. Don’t say that. I can’t imagine. I don’t even want to think about losing my parents. When I lost my grandparents it was awful, and I still miss them. I’ll be here for a long time. I promise. And isn’t better than never knowing each other at all??”

He gave me one last hug. “Thanks, mom, you make everything better.”

He climbed into the car and I wiped my face so I could hug the next child.

Wow.

I’m going to work on feeling that way.

Friday, February 12, 2010 Bad Mood Dude

That’s essentially what the termite inspector said today. Just a teensy bit of fumigation needed, but my shower leaks and, well, some other things, and have to gut the entire bathroom. Whee! I cannot wait for the home inspection on Monday.

In other news, it sure is echoey and cold in here since I took everything off the walls and emptied a lot of square footage.