I do it myself. Or why I need to get up 30 minutes earlier these days

Ah, 2. What an age.
The vocabulary skills are blossoming. The fine motor skills are improving. The independence is rearing is ugly lovely head. And yet the full mastery isn't quite there yet. But the knowledge to TRY is.

Practically every other sentence I hear from G these days is, "I do it myself". Okay kiddo. Go for it. And about 95% of the time he gets it. The other 5% when there is a portion of the task that he's still just too little to get done himself? Armagedon! Holy terror attack batman! The wailing, the screaming, the extra 30 minutes just to TRY until I finally hear a "You hep mama".

You can't tell a 2 year old I told you so.

They don't remember what you told them anyway.

I had to start getting up earlier in the mornings to make up for the extra time it takes to get G to walk to the car, climb up into the car, climb up into the carseat. And that doesn't even take into consideration that it's getting into coat season and he wants to put that on by himself now too.

I love it though.
Every extra minute of sleep I have to lose to see him gain and grow and learn.
Each time I make a comment about what a little person he is, he gets bigger and becomes more of a little person. He's my baby, but boy is he a little boy.

Continue Reading...

The real perfect house

It's not that I was trying to lie to myself about the other house.
It wasn't perfect, but it was pretty nice. I could have lived there.
I just turned out to have some issues.
Big issues.
Issues I can't afford to fix.

Two days before the inspections my dad's friend stopped by to tell him they were ready to sell their house. I had known it was a possibility when I started my search, but sort of forgot about it because they didn't know when it was going to happen. And it happened then. Two days before the inspections. My dad mentioned it in passing, and I didn't give it too much thought. I had my offer in. I was getting inspections.

Saturday when my (incredibly awesome, I will totally refer her to anyone in the area needing a) realtor stopped by our campsite (yes, I'll say that again, she drove out to our campsite while camping in a local state park) to have me sign my response to the inspection findings (i.e. please fix all the big stuff) she asked what my thoughts were if he didn't want to fix things, would I up my offer? Pay for half? I told her we'd wait to see what the seller's response was first. I didn't want to increase my offer, and it had nothing to do with the suspician that the house wouldn't appraise for what I had as my current offer. And I don't have the spare money to split big repairs. My mom mentioned their friends house again, and I think I sort of half-heartedly acknowledged the remark, but was still under the assumption the seller would certainly pay for the big stuff and I'd buy this house. My mom wanted to know if I wanted to go look at their house anyway, just to see it. I said probably.

Monday when we got back from camping I had a message from my realtor. I didn't listen, I just called her back. The seller wouldn't pay for anything really. She asked what I wanted to do. I told her I needed to think about it. I got off the phone and asked my mom to call her friend and see if we could come look at her house. That afternoon.

So we did. After G's nap, we headed down. My first thought upon walking into the house and seeing just the kitchen was that it was going to be out of my price range. But I kept looking. And I asked what they wanted for it. And not only was it in my price range but it was on the low end of my price range! I finished looking through the house. The three bedrooms, real bedrooms with closets and heaters. The two full bathrooms, one off the kitchen on the first floor and one on the second floor. The very spacious dining room and living room. The bright sunny eat-in kitchen. Oh and the real honest to goodness wooden doors to every room. Throw in a usable basement, a nice yard, and negotiable appliances and I was sold. SOLD.

I called the next night to set up a time to come talk price with them and last night we sat down and talked price with the appliances and now my realtor has that price and is working backwards to create the offer. She hasn't seen it yet, but I know even my realtor is going to flip over this house.

I fell in love after talking price. I walked through the house again and really looked at all the details and the work put into it. I fell in love. THIS really is the house. THIS is the perfect house for me and G. And I didn't need to convince myself of it, I just know. I won't be in by Halloween, but I will be in before Thanksgiving and settled and ready to decorate by Christmas! I can't wait to have my own Christmas. The last time I really got to celebrate was 2004. And while last year I celebrated with G at my parents house, this year he and I will have a real Christmas house of our own.

And if there was ever an example of another door opening when one door closes this is it.

Continue Reading...

The name plate

You know how you see on houses those cool name plates?

"The So-and-So's
Established 1995"

Well, being that I'm finally buying a house (yes, offer placed, offer accepted, more on that later I promise!) I thought it might be fun to get one of those for my new house.

Problem?

Who am I?

Am I my current last name? Because that was given to me by my soon to be ex. And I'm not entirely sure I want to be that anymore.

Am I my maiden name? Because then I won't have the same last name as G! And my sign will only reflect me, and not HIM, and the house, the HOME is most certainly his too. It's not just me.

Am I someone who has yet to be determined? Because I do plan to be part of a larger group. More kids. Loving doting partner. Maybe a kitten.

Screw it, I think I'll just get one of those signs that says something like "Live Laugh Love" and call it a day. Because really, I'm getting a house and I get to make a home and I don't care what name you put on it, it's going to be full of LOVE and Laughter and I plan to really LIVE there.

Also? House warming party at my new place some time early November! I can't wait to show it off.

Continue Reading...

North on I-79

Tuesday I drove off for another business trip. Up to Cleveland. A portion of my drive was the same drive to would make to and from school while at PSU in Erie. Tuesday's drive was uneventful, and I'll admit the part that should have been familiar wasn't at all.

On my way home though, as I approached I-79 from the other side I thought to myself, "What would I do, if I could hop on 79 from this side, and head back into my college days?"

There were so many choices I made back then, over 1o years ago. What if I made different choices? I started dating and eventually decided to marry my soon to be ex husband there. I lost my connection with a guy friend who I had once thought I would end up with. I choose to switch from an education major to a psych major.

What if I headed back up 79 from this side and made some different choices? Would I still have my G? Would he be the same light of my life? Would be older then 2? Would he still have that determined personality and give the same wonderful hugs? Would he even exist? Would I change those decisions if I knew he wouldn't exist? That's the hardest question to answer. I could answer it either way, and depending on the day be totally confident in my answer.

I didn't head up 79, I drove right past it. Another 2 hours to my house instead 2 hours into my past. When I got home I was greeted by a great big "Mama!" and G took my hand and led me to the toy box to show me the puzzle he put together with Bubba. I shared a piece of pizza with G, and was beyond the moon excited to be back with him.

I'm not going to feel guilty that some days I wish I had taken a different path, even if it would have led me away from my G man. I can't really change my path anyway, and thinking about what if's are fleeting anyway. It was just that sign for 79 that took me back a bit more, for a bit longer than I've let myself go. Blame it on the drive, the long and boring drive.

Continue Reading...