The good part

Everyone knows that it is an amazing feeling to rock a newborn to sleep and that nothing smells better than a baby fresh out of a bath. It goes without saying that as a parent, every age has nuances that you will miss someday. It goes without saying, but I said it anyway because I don't want you to think I'm a bad mom when I say that I am totally getting to the good part.

You know, the part where you can really start to enjoy the fruits of your labor (pun absolutely intended). Like how you spent hours talking to a baby who just looked at you with a blank face, or that smile that even you knew was patronizing and you imagined your baby thinking "oh that's so sweet, she's talking to me. I'll just smile to make her feel better because she really is spending a lot of time, and she might as well be speaking German." You kept reading 'Goodnight Moon' to a three month old even though you felt a little silly, because you just knew that someday he would be stalling at bedtime saying "Moon book again mommy?" Well that day has come, and I am in parenting heaven.

I imagine that it has a little something to do with having been raised by a teacher and lover of the communication arts, but I can not get enough of this kid's vocabulary. I love that he can tell me what he wants (it really saves me a lot of time in wrong guesses). I love that he asks me questions, and tells me about the things he finds exciting (usually bugs and puddles, but I'll take it), and I especially love hearing "good morning!" when I get him out of bed.

Stay at home parenting is a job without performance reviews (well unless you count your significant other waking you up to say he has no clean socks and adds oh-so-cutely "you're fired") and I am a person that thrives on seeing my hard work come to fruition. So yes, I know that it is about the journey, but once in awhile it's nice to hear "Thank you mommy." Sometimes it's just what I needed to hear.

This is why I procreated. OK , this and a couple of other reasons.

I fell in love with the Yoda costume the second I laid eyes on it, it was just to cute and weird to pass up.

Kelan last year on Halloween

He enjoyed helping give candy away almost as much as he enjoyed walking up to houses and saying "bye" instead of "trick or treat"

Seriously, it is going to be a sad day for me when he picks out his own costume, but it will be nice when he decides to hoard his candy- those peanut butter cups keep calling my name.

He's going to be an awesome big brother

Well it looks like someone's ready for baby number two- Sean and I, not so much. Sorry kid, it's going to be awhile.

The life lessons just keep coming

"Vacation" is another word that takes on an entirely different definition once you have a child. Before you have kids, vacation means "a relaxing trip away from home." After you have kids, vacation means "A nerve-wracking car/plane ride to yet another place where you will have to make sure your child doesn't seriously injure himself, others, or property. Oh, and if he does happen to mistake that decorative ostrich egg for a ball, promptly super glue it back together and pray that the owner never finds out."

So yeah, this year there was a little less reading by the water and a little more making sure kid doesn't drown in said water, but it was fun nonetheless. At least with a kid there are more photo ops.

Why I probably still have that book you lent me

Netflix's business model is ingenious. Sean and I joke that we are their favorite type of customer; the kind that gets excited enough about it to sign up for Three movies unlimited!, and then keeps those same three movies for almost a year. At some point we just need to accept that if we haven't watched Running with Scissors yet, we probably won't get around to it any time soon - but I'm getting off topic.

In an effort to not feel like I am throwing twelve dollars a month out the window, I decided to peruse their new releases and spice up the queue. I came across a romantic comedy called He's Just Not That Into You. It looked like a OK rental. Then I saw that it was based on a book. Well, I have to read the book before I watch the movie I told myself. When I went to the library to pick up the book, I was surprised to discover that it was actually a non-fiction dating self help book. Huh, I thought.

To make a long story unnecessarily long, I have this personal rule that I have to finish every book that I start (insert bible joke here). He's Just Not That Into You is a rather short book, but was actually pretty hard to get through. First of all, while I was reading it, all I could think about is how depressing this movie is going to be. It's basically a description of the million ways you can tell that the guy you like doesn't like you back. Secondly, reading the book made me realize apparently there have been a number of guys who were just not that "into me" (who wants to think about that?) and lastly, it appeared that even the writers were not super-confident in the probability of ever finding a guy that is "into you". Really, if I were single, reading this book would probably have sent me to the pet store to buy a plethora of cats.

So here we are, two weeks later. We still haven't watched Running with Scissors, but I just came across a new release called Marley and Me...

Square one and such

So, the sale fell through. I was devastated on Friday, because Thursday we had found a place, but now I've settled into mild disappointment. I guess what it comes down to is that I can't justify mourning an apartment we never actually had. Even if it was so close we could taste it...

Sometimes this whole house sale thing feels like that nightmare where you really need to get somewhere and for whatever reason you are moving in slow motion. Usually when I have that nightmare, I am in a pet store and somehow all of the fish have gotten out of the tanks. They are all flopping around on the floor and I have to help them get back into the water except all I have is a metal spatula. Then I look down and I am wearing these really big heavy boots and I have to also try not to step on the fish.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that we need to sell this house, so that I can take these boots off.

Sean is learning how to start a fire in a garbage can, just in case

I'm not really fluent in realtor speak, but I'm pretty sure hearing that the buyers are "just dragging their feet a bit" in terms of getting info to their lender is not a positive thing. Hearing that they are "still getting their ducks in a row" with 31 days until closing also does not instill a lot of confidence.

We were flat out told not to sign a lease "quite yet" and I am more than hesitant to pack a single box, but really-- crazy me, I'm starting to have this nagging where the heck are we going to live next month if this sale does go through? voice in my head.

So this is where I'm at... pretending that it isn't happening. House, what house? ahhh that feels better.

I'm more than positive that the buyers are living their lives and simply have no idea what it is like to be in limbo with a toddler and a house full of things that may have no place to go in a month. I'm certain that they have no idea that we would like to either secure a place to go, or keep showing the house to others. They can have no way of knowing that we are going on vacation this month, leaving us less time to get things ready. But all of this doesn't stop me from fantasizing about knocking on their door and politely asking, "um, would you mind just speeding things along a bit? We would prefer to not be homeless, thanks."

The practical side of me is pretty sure we will be living here this winter.