Beach Therapy

Well, long time, nothing new.

Kind of.

This week, Matt was able to take some much-needed leave from work. He had gone straight from one super busy job to another, and I think part of my overwhelmed feelings upon arrival here were due to the fact that besides having sick kids the first week, I was running around trying to do all the little errands that come with moving in. Plus, having Matt around to explore this new place we're calling home... Well, it's been much better.

But, we're still looking for a house, and base housing is still saying, "How does waiting forever sound?" (Me: "So tempting. NOT!")

And the thing that's killing me is that you might be sitting there, thinking, But you're in Hawaii... whiner.  Until you have experienced having six people in one tiny hotel space, while on Mission: Impossible a.k.a. finding a house that will fit/ allow four kids and two dogs, I beg you not to judge.  We have been able to incrementally extend our stay at the Navy Lodge, (thank You, Lord!) but the prospect of living in our cars once we can't extend here, or staying in an expensive hotel, or taking one of the not-so-nice places that are available as temp rentals is as (read: un-)appealing in Hawaii as it would be anywhere else.  Believe me.

 I can only describe house-hunting here as some crazy mix of HGTV's House Hunters, The Bachelor/ette, American Idol, and a little bit of Hunger Games thrown in.  It goes like this: I wake up, scan the listings, first checking for "pets ok" then moving on to other issues like number of bedrooms or square footage or price, then I call.  Nine out of ten times (and it has definitely been that many times, a few times over), voicemail answers.  I leave my name and number, trying to sound positive, peppy, and upbeat, but not desperate.  Because Jayna said yesterday I'm starting to sound desperate.  But it's just because I really liked the looks of the place.

I try to decide how many times I should call this number/ e-mail this individual.  I eat and feed the kids.  I check the ads again.  If anything has popped up, I repeat the steps listed above.  By this time, I have at least had my cup of tea, so peppiness isn't so challenging.  I work out.  Repeat.  Do homeschool.  Repeat.  Go out to scope a neighborhood.  Repeat.  Meanwhile... waiting for those people to call me back.  All.  Day.  Long.  And I would say only three out of four do.  Then half of those seem to have some reason not to want to rent to us (already rented, don't want to rent to someone with a 50-lb dog, don't want to rent to someone with that many kids -- yeah, seriously, it happened).

So if you're doing the math, this results in a very small number of houses we can actually see.  To date, we have viewed the inside of four.  In three weeks.  Three of those, we realized upon viewing, would not work for us (i.e., no yard, weird fake grass in the "lawn", too short of a lease, etc.).  One of those was so awful, I'm still literally shuddering at the thought.  And I'm pretty pragmatic about this whole thing -- I mean, if I actually get to see the inside of a place, I try to figure out how we could make it work.  It was only when we were back out of it that I realized there is no -- no, absoutely not ever! -- NO WAY I would rent that place.  I think the only way the girl who is renting it can get away with asking what she is for it ($3300!!!) is that she lives in a nice town.

So when Jayna told me I was starting to sound desperate, well, I asked her to take over for me.  I feel like God has given me this experience so I can understand how my friends who were older when they got married or may not be married yet (in their mid- to late-thirties) feel about dating.  Because I keep hearing myself say things like, "Why aren't they calling back yet?  When will they call?  Do you think I should call them again?  What if they lost my number?  Maybe I should just text them.  Do you really think I sounded desperate?  Did they not like me?  Why wouldn't they like me?"

Okay, okay, God, I get it!  Dating sucks!!!  Thank You for giving me my husband at such a young age!!!

One woman I called actually answered her phone and said I could come see the house that day around four!   Fine, I said, I'd do it!  At 2:30, she called to say that something had come up and she couldn't show it that day, would the next day work?  I said fine again, even though this would take a bit of shuffling (which I didn't mention).  She called me at 7 a.m, people, to say that she had already rented the place!  Say wha-a-a...?  And this wasn't even one of the nice places!  I'm telling you, house-hunting here is cutthroat.

Matt keeps telling me not to worry, something will work-out.  But here's the thing.  My "job" right now could be described as a "homemaker."  I'm trying to make a home for my family, a place where they can all feel safe and happy, where they know they belong, even if we're strangers here.  And I guess I feel like until we have that, I'm kind of failing at my job.  It's hard.  Yes, even in Hawaii.

Anyway, after doing that all last week, and seeing the awful house yesterday afternoon... we headed for the beach for a bit of therapy.  I waded through the waves for a little while, shaking my head to the older kids and Matt when they said I should try boogie-boarding.  But then my hair got wet anyway, and the water was so warm and tempting, so I figured, Why not?

me, prior to getting 50 gallons of saltwater up my nose

I got out there, and the waves were so big, they made my heart pound.  Suddenly, the whole silly house-hunting thing seemed to shrink.  I started to believe what Matt was telling me all week, that somehow, this will work out. I and all my worries were small again, and the ocean was so big.  I got tumbled around in the waves, and about 50 gallons of saltwater blasted up my nose, and the bottom of my swimsuit was pulled off and Jayna, who saw the whole thing, laughed until she couldn't stand up.

It was so much fun.

And then we got some pizza from Boston's Pizza in Aiea which is super yummy and reasonably priced.  We took it to this quiet spot and ate together.  It was great.

So I guess what I'm saying is, maybe I need to listen to those well-meaning individuals who keep saying, "But you're in Hawaii!"  Maybe I need to remember when things get a little to crazy, I need to hit the beach.  And hopefully one of these days... we'll get a house.

Home is Where...

Did you know today is Military Spouse Appreciation Day?  I didn't either until I was reminded on Facebook.  And since I'm smack in the middle of yet another crazy-hectic-whatever move courtesy of the ol' USN, I thought I'd pull out this essay I wrote for our squadron spouses' newsletter a couple years ago.  The feelings that prompted me to write this are stronger than ever now.  Love ya, military spouses!

Home Is Where…

By

Joy Nicholas (originally written in August 2011)

            You look at the shiny key in your hand, the one that opens the door to yet another house.  How many is it now?  You’ve lost count. 

You remember an essay contest in eighth grade, where the theme was to complete the phrase, “Home is where…”  At the time, you didn’t know what to say, and though you are older and supposedly wiser, you sure as heck don’t know now.  Back then, you made up some cutesy pat answer, but it didn’t win the contest anyway. 

You sigh and open the front door, and the kids immediately start crashing around the house, exploring the rooms and looking for hiding places in the new closets.

            “Home is where…” 

The phrase hangs in the empty room that will soon be overflowing with boxes to unpack.  Home is where… what?  Where the heart is?  Something about that just doesn’t ring true.   In the past decade or so, there have been dozens of times when it felt like your heart was nowhere near you, certainly not within the walls that enclosed you.  Sometimes it was on a plane somewhere, flying through the dark night away from you, or stationed on another continent for months, or on a ship in the middle of the ocean.  Or when your grandmother died or your dad was sick or your sister lost a baby, but you couldn’t be there, your heart couldn’t have felt further away.

            And what about those little signs so many have hung in their houses? “Home is where the Navy sends us.”  Again, it seems too trite to be true.  What about the times, months after moving, when you came into your house at the end of a long day, and your kids asked, “When will this feel like home?”  And you mustered a laugh and told them, “When we have to move again.”  Or the times (like yesterday) they asked, “When can we stop moving?” 

            The coming days bring the flurry of unpacking boxes and “settling” in, taking account of what made it through yet another move (hooray!) and what didn’t.  You make a new set of routines, find new favorite places to eat… and, after nights of indigestion, the places that should be avoided at all costs.

             You go through various stages of culture shock that come with a new place:

“I love the food here!” then, “Is that pick-up actually towing that car with an extension cord?!” then, “Ugh.  I hate the traffic here!  And the weather!  And the people!!  They are so weird!” then,  “This… just might… be okay.” 

            You celebrate victories and disappointments with your kids: “Yay!  You made a friend!” sometimes followed by, “Annnnd, that one's a psycho.” 

            You pray and try to trust that all this crazy moving isn’t scarring your kids for life.  The next day you pray that you’re saving enough to pay for all the years of therapy ahead – your own included.

           But in the midst of it all, there are moments of clarity and gratitude, where you know that thanks to being a military spouse, you’ve become part of something… well, silly though it might sound, precious.  If you reach out in desperation, someone will be there to pull you up.  Through teary phone calls, social faux pas, Bunco nights, play dates, dinners out, girls’ nights in, and countless belly laughs, you have grown a group of friends so close that you’re being completely honest when you refer to them as family.  These are the people that understand best the heartache you feel when your spouse is gone, and the levels of happiness when he returns, as well as the reality of adjusting to being together again.  They know your kids better than many of your blood relations do; they remember when you went into labor and have actually been there, with you, to celebrate birthdays since.  The tides of military life might pull you apart from each other – even for years at a time – but when they draw you together again, you pick right up where you left off.

            So maybe you don’t know how to finish the sentence “Home is where…”  Maybe it will take you the rest of your life to figure it out.  But at least you can rest assured that you’re not alone.  You’re a military spouse, for once and for always, and that means you can reach out even in the dark and confusing times, and know there will be a hand to hold.

Treasure Hunting

Despite my best intentions, the week didn't get off to the greatest start. Monday there was school work to do, more errands... and then I had signed the kids up for a tumbling class on base, per their begging, and it was fairly disastrous. They had wanted to learn something beyond cartwheels and round-offs that I can teach (understandable), but were worried about being the worst in the class. So I put them (as recommended by the people who run it) in the beginning class. Well, it was just fine for Lilly, but the class Jayna and Skyler were in was not only WAY too easy, Skyler was a whole head taller than everyone else.  It was totally one of those "Which one of these does not belong?" situations. Which, of course, does not sit well with my newbie kids. Jayna took one look at the class and decided to sit it out.

The good news is, Lilly had a blast. I guess I should be grateful about a 25% success rate.

But chasing after Wyatt in a hot, not-air conditioned gym for an hour, trying to get him to "tumble" in the right places and not run like crazy for the wrong ones, and then to face the very disappointed tears of the older two at the end of it, well, all I could think was, And I paid for this?!

Anyway. Tuesday didn't start much better. Matt was saying he didn't feel so hot, which is usually a precursor to me getting sick. The kids were fighting about, oh I don't know, doing geometry when music was playing, who was so messy and whose mess it was, who was so super annoying and who wasn't, that kind of thing.

There were tears. I told Matt. He said we were strictly ordered to leave the room and not come back for at least three hours.  Preferably six.

Well, ok, I said, and we headed out. Unfortunately my first stop (a necessary one) was the housing office where the entire experience can be summed up with three words: no good news. Actually four. Add "whatsoever." We aren't even technically on a waitlist yet until after sixty days. We've been looking off base of course, but it's SO hard to find something big enough for four kids to love and homeschool in, plus have two dogs. And be affordable.

So anyway. I kept a smile on my face, but when I got to the car and was telling the kids the "news," I felt this big shuddery sigh in my chest and something wet and awfully close to tears in my eyes.

But then I said, "Hey, we're in Hawaii. It's a gorgeous day. We are going to be HAPPY, DARN IT!!!!"

So that's what we did. I didn't go back to the room for a cheapy lunch, no siree. We went to a shopping center with Jamba Juice and this really cool all-vegetarian grocery store called Down to Earth.  Then we took our picnic to a nice park on base that had some really cool trees and a playground.  There was also this guy mowing the grass on his ride-on lawnmower, which was too scary for my little man, who clung to my neck instead of playing. But then after about twenty minutes, he moved on and Wyatt went to work playing/ trying to get into the pool which was right next door.

Then there was some necessary shopping/ errands while Wyatt catnapped and his sisters fought some more. But I did feel oh-so-much better when, after four hours, we returned to the room. I even rallied everyone to put on swimsuits and head to the pool. Wyatt's screams of delight as we booked it for the stairs, while maybe not appreciated by everyone, put a big, fat, ridiculously happy smile on my face.

And then I even found an almost-perfect plumeria flower just lying on the ground. I put it behind my ear.

Isn't this life, whether or not you live in Hawaii? Saying "It might not be perfect, not ideal, but it's okay." Even "good." Sometimes good stuff just falls kerplunk into your lap. But most of the time, you have to look a little harder for it -- scrounge under the couch cushions where old pens and forgotten Christmas ornaments are hiding, maybe even dig through the trash can, so to speak. 

I held up that plumeria up to Mt nose and sniffed it's heavenly scent. Then I held it out to Wyatt, said, "Flower. Mmmm. Can you say 'flower'?"  His skin was all wet from the pool and covered in tiny goosebumps, but he smiled his funny smile with so many gaps still and said, "Fow!"

"Yeah," I said, "now sniff it!" I made exaggerated sniffing sounds.

He copied me... sniffing in the same exaggerated way. 

Except that he got a bunch of boogers all over my pretty plumeria and then tore three petals off. 

And it was a happy day. :-)

So. Much. Better. (sort of)

Well, we woke up Saturday feeling much, MUCH better, and by that I mean, people were saying they were hungry again and not sleeping in the bathroom as close to the toilet as possible.  We needed to go somewhere, but not somewhere that would risk getting other people sick. So the healthy among us headed to Target (oh, glorious beacon of all that is familiar and pleasant!) loaded up the car with an umbrella, towels, and lots of snacks and water and headed back to the beach.

By the way, I'm still praying that Matt, Skyler, and I are exempt from this nasty bug, because I have this rather horrifying mental image of the three of us who haven't been sick yet fighting over the one toilet, and it's scarier than Hunger Games. 

But I can't help but think this -- the sand, the saltwater, the funny Hawaiian cocktail of sunshine and warm rain -- is just what the doctor ordered! At least for me to preserve a tiny bit of my sanity. 

It looked like the whole beach was in my car when we got back to where we are staying. I mean there was sand EVERYWHERE. Hurray for rental cars.  But I had a smile on my face because I really love the drive to Kailua on the H3. You come out of the tunnel and see that incredible view of turquoise lagoons and beaches and sailboats resting on beds of sunshine-sparkled water, and, for me at least, it just plain takes my breath away.

I really needed that yesterday.

I could use it today too. Because last night Lilly got sick again!!!! Ugh!!!! And Wyatt still isn't 100%!!! I tell you, it's enough to make me crazy.

But at least I can look at these pics and remember that for a few hours yesterday my cheeks hurt from smiling. And one of these days, Lord willing (and please, PLEASE, Lord, be willing!!!) one of these days we really will be back to normal and hitting the beach again. And again and again!

In the meantime, we will just keep stepping over Lilly, who is curled up on the bathroom floor...

Ummm... Aloha?

Well, we're here in Hawaii! We arrived last Sunday, and it has been quite a week. A few people (hubs included) have said something to the effect of, oh, isn't it a bummer that we came here for our vacation last year and then ended up moving here? We could have saved so much money, etc., etc.

No. Let me tell you, if we hadn't had that vacation and all the happy memories associated with it, I might be thumbing it back to the mainland at this point. Jumping in a rowboat and rowing Easy.

Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But this week has definitely not gone the way I wanted it to. Sunday was all right. We made it through the airport and plane ride okay. Wyatt did scream, but only in the airport. In the plane, he was quiet, but a little crazy from sleep-deprivation. He kept hitting the screen on the back of the seat and wanting to push every button in sight. Finally he fell asleep, and I tell you the truth, I did not move from the position I was in for three-and-a-half hours. He woke up just before we landed.

Side note. It's been a few years since I flew Delta, and I have to say, it was great. The flight attendants were friendly, and I know it was a trans-oceanic flight so it was a bit different from a regular domestic flight, but the inflight entertainment was fantastic. There were so many movies to choose from (for free!!!). As I sat there frozen for lo the many hours, I got to watch most of Breakfast at Tiffany's. *happy sigh*

Any, the rest of Sunday was great, though we were super tired from our early morning and prior Disney shenanigans. (More on that in another post). Shannon, the Shannon of the Hummus and Veggie Dip post (can't link but see February or March '11) lives here and lei'ed us at the airport! And it was so great to be with Matt and be a family again. It was only two weeks, but our family works best all together.

But Monday through Thursday were crazy. Matt was at work, we were (trying to be) doing school in the mornings, then racing around to do errands in the afternoon. And there are so many errands when you move. One of them involved picking up our insurance cards from an office in downtown Honolulu by four o'clock. I left an hour early and barely got there in time. By that I mean I arrived at the office at 3:59. The office was less than ten miles from where we are staying. Traffic is HORRIBLE!!! And it stresses me out because it looks like most of the dance schools are down there. I am praying that there is one I just haven't seen/ considered yet.

But the worst part of the week wasn't the busyness. Wyatt started running a fever Monday night. I thought maybe he had an ear infection because he'd had the sniffles last week. He had some pretty funky diapers, and threw up but only when I had tried giving him medicine -- which is normal for him. But then Thursday night (after a brief but MUCH needed getaway to the beach in Kailua), Lilly started saying she felt like she might throw up. She was sick all night... And at three a.m., Jayna decided she'd join the fun. She was sick all day yesterday. Ugh, ugh, ugh. Considering we *just* had the stomach flu less than two months ago.... And considering we are staying in a hotel room, sharing one bathroom (read: one toilet!!), and I have to go out to do my laundry, well, I was about at the screaming-and-pulling-my-hair-out stage. Stomach flus are like taxes. Maybe they are necessary (for what reason, I cannot tell you), but they should not happen more than once a year.

Anyway, hopefully I can bring you much better posts soon. For one thing, I have to tell you about Disneyland. In the meantime, here are some pics. They are below the post because that is the Blogger app's way of doing things.
Me, frozen in baby-napping position. The flight map. The view from our room. Some pretty pics that I keep looking at to mind myself, Hey! You live inHawaii now!!. Me and Shannon. The sand and my freakishly long toes. (Decorated with Essie Geranium)

I really am happy to be here. I just want/ need everyone to be healthy and things to settle down a bit so we can breathe and relax. Sorry for the venting... Aloha!

Serenity Now

Okay, now I am trying blogger for my phone. Bear with me, especially if there ends up being completely inappropriate typos in here. My phone has a special knack for that! Also, it means photos show up at the end of the post. Urge.

So! I'm in California!  Looong ways from where I was this time a week ago! We left our home last Monday, and all I have to say about that is it's over. The last hours of cleaning stretched on forever.

And then we loaded the car. Yikes. We managed to squeeze it all in, but it was sort of nothing short of a small miracle. After staying the night near SeaTac, we saw Matt off and started driving south.

That was a great day.

We stopped in Silverton, OR to see my best-friend-in-7th-grade/ former boarding school roommate and partner-in-crime (most of which were minor and involved toothpaste, peanut butter, and/or or water), who is still one of the world's most wonderful people. And she just recently had a sweet baby boy.  It was kind of surreal sitting together remembering our antics from back then as we nursed our babies!

We drove on to Salem and spent the night with another wonderful couple, the woman who was the nurse at the boarding school I went to and her husband. Wyatt tried to rearrange their entire house for them, but they were so sweet.  It was hard to leave the next day.

It was even harder to drive the 500 -- yes, you read that right -- miles between Salem and my aunt and uncle's house in northern California in one day. With only two stops.

I am not a saint, so don't go thinking that's what got us through. No way. There were threats, bribery, tearful begging (mine and theirs), more yelling than is healthy, screaming (mostly Wyatt's), often all within thirty seconds. I felt just like George's dad in that Seinfeld episode, yelling "Serenity now!!!"

BUT, we made it. In some ways, it was helpful that my car started making this horrible metallic scraping sound over a hundred miles before our destination. We spent that final stretch mostly just praying nervously.

After a very exhausted and sound sleep, I took my car to the Honda dealership there. Then made arrangements to take it to the one in Santa Rosa (where my sister-in-law lives) the next day as they had the part I needed. Of course, it turned out that wasn't the right part, but they were really helpful and got me the right part so that now my car is finally, hopefully, fingers triple crossed, getting fixed.

SERENITY NOW!!!!!!!!

Ahem. Excuse me. Sorry, I hate car trouble. Especially when my husband's not with me.

But truth be told, I am having a great time in California. We've spent time with family and friends. Remember when you were little and playing tag, running as fast as you could, and you got to where your cheeks were burning and your lungs gasping for air and you just knew if you got to base you'd be fine? Well, that's been us and this is base. So much in our lives changes, and we don't have -- well, hardly anything that stays constant. But coming here, finding the way back to grandparents' houses, doing favorite California things, catching our breath before another round of craziness begins.

Ah, yes. Serenity... Now.

We Like to Move It! (7QT's)

Well, any week is a good week to do a 7 Quick Takes post.  But this seems like an extra good week to do a 7 Quick Takes since we're in the middle of a move, and there are lots of little things I want to say.  So here goes:

1.  The plan for the next three weeks is as follows.  Get through this weekend in a mostly-empty house, get carpets cleaned on Monday and leave that afternoon for Seattle.  Stay the night there, put Matt on his flight early the next day, then drive to California.  There I will go down the state, visiting friends and family along the way, and wrap it up with a week that hopefully includes Disneyland with my sisters- and mother-in-law, and lots of chill time with my parents and sisters. At the end of that week (i.e. about 3 weeks from now), I will ship my car and head to Hawaii to join Matt in our new home.  Simple enough, no?  Haha... yeah right.  I am really looking forward to time with all my loved ones, but I'm kind of nervous about driving a long ways (from Seattle to SoCal) by myself.  Plus it always seems like someone gets sick when we travel!  Always!  Needless to say, prayers are appreciated!

2.  Okay, let me bust out my little violin for a minute.  (What?!  No sympathy allowed when someone is moving to Hawaii???)  This has been a really emotional week for all of us.  I think the first week, we were just excited that we were going somewhere we all were happy about.  But this week it's really dawned on everyone that we're leaving.  It's been tough.  Really.  We've spent some special time with friends, and more is planned for the weekend.

But there have been lots of tears.

I expected tears.  But not everyone did.  After I wrote yesterday's post, Matt came home with the kids.  He walked into the living room and said, "Every.  Single.  One.  Of our four kids has cried in the past hour."

Like this was supposed to shock me.

I went, "Yes... and?"

He sat down, and said, "And I need a break.  Your turn."

3.  So we went to one of our favorite beaches here.  It was actually sunny for awhile, though not warm, though not as freezing as today (39 degrees, people!).  I snapped these pictures.  Some are on instagram (you can follow me at joyatcaspara).

It really is heavenly here.

You just need a NorthFace jacket to enjoy it.

4.  So when we first moved here, I mentioned that we'd gone through some kind of bumpy times and there was a lot more that I didn't talk about here, or just mentioned briefly.  But to make a long story short, my older daughters almost quit dance at first.  It was sometimes a battle with Jayna to get her to go to practice that first fall.  By spring, she was adjusting to it, and really started to like her teacher.  She had the same teacher this year, and this woman has turned into a true mentor.  Last night was Jayna's last dance class with her.  We were having dinner with my friend Bethany, and Matt left to go pick her up -- and didn't come back for almost an hour.  Finally he walked in with a red-eyed Jayna.  Her teacher had thrown her a surprise party!!

So then she told me, and I started crying too.

(And Matt sighed deeply and might have put his head on the table.  This was a lot of "woman emotions" to deal with in a day -- even for him.)

5.  When we get to Hawaii, we might have to wait a loooooong time to find a house.  The waitlist for base housing is 6-12 months (according to the lady who works there anyway), and while I would like to think that's not true, one of my friends told me she waited ten months for it!  Off base doesn't look much better as the rentals we can afford tend to not allow pets.

So I'm kind of freaking out about the stuff that I forgot to leave out of our shipment of household goods.  And can I be embarrassingly completely honest for a second?  I do not have the faintest clue how I will survive without my Xbox Zumba for that long.  I know I could probably take a class, but... it's just not the same.

While I'm mentioning things I'll miss, I might add that Matt did not understand my reasoning for keeping the Vitamix or my electric pressure cooker.  Or even my slow cooker.  If I have to wait 10 months without these appliances that I lived 33 years without... (okay, not in the case of the slow cooker but anyway) I just don't know what I will do with myself.  I'm hoping and praying we get a house soon.

6.  I wish I had created a Pinterest board for Things to Do in a Mostly Empty House.  Every now and then I come across a blog or book that promotes simple, minimalist living, or talks about something dramatic done as a family like living in a RV, and I think, Oh that would be so cool and exciting.  I should try something like that.

And then we have to move again and I go, Oh, yeah.  I do that every 2-3 years. (if not more often)  Only it's what I have to do rather than some kind of personal social science experiment.  So let me tell you, being stuck in an almost empty house on a chilly, rainy weekend... kind of stinks.  (I know, I've mentioned this before.  Sorry for the deja vu, if you've been around since then.)

Some of the fun activities that my youngest has tried so far in an effort to entertain himself include (but are not limited to): Throw the Apples Across the Living Room, Empty the Bag of Cotton Balls (Bonus Round is "In Five Seconds or Less"), Throw the Starbucks Cups Mommy Was Saving Around the Bathroom, Empty the Bread Bag... do you see a pattern here?  He does eat the bread, at least.  Off the floor.  Which is especially great since I haven't mopped in ages.

I was hoping the weather would be awful this weekend so it would be easier for me to leave, but as "they" say, "Be careful what you wish for."  Seriously.

7.  Have you read Sparkly Green Earrings yet?  Okay, as soon as you finish reading this post (if you do), go buy it!!!!  I mean it!!!  It was so great.  It's not like this earth-shattering premise -- just a mom and a memoir of her daughter's childhood so far, so you might wonder, How can it be that good?  But I tell you the truth, it is delightful, funny, insightful.  I don't know why I hadn't heard of the Big Mama blog until I was reading about this book everywhere, but both the blog and the book are so, so wonderful.

And, as an aside, it's really motivated me to work on my own book again!!  Thanks, Melanie!

Anyway, I hope you have a great weekend!  I will be here, cleaning the walls and sinks, and gathering the supplies for another round of Let's Go Fishing in the Toilet.  (Maybe I can convince Wyatt to stick to the apples.  Fingers crossed.)