Did I tell you that while we were moving Kolby was traveling for weeks? To really horrible places like Manhattan and Honolulu and Venice Beach? He was. (Oh yeah, I did tell you. Remember the talent show story?) Well he was racking up all those frequent flyer miles chasing Rosa around the country as she met her Facebook friends:
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
A peek
Just a quick glimpse of the new rug. I think I like it. We're struggling with this room, so I need to see if it works itself out...
And I can't find the cords for my camera, so my phone camera is the best you get.
And I can't find the cords for my camera, so my phone camera is the best you get.
Now means now
There is something you should know about me. It is both a strength and a weakness. I have absolutely no patience. None. When I decide I'm going to do something, it needs to be done now. Right now. As in no, you can't go to the bathroom first, I need to do this RIGHT. NOW.
This might seem like one of those "greatest weaknesses" that you bring up in a job interview, the kind that you can't really find anything wrong with because it's not a weakness at all. But it really does have it's downside (Kolby would agree.) For example, I become obsessed with that thing and cannot think of anything else until it is done. Can't sleep. Can't finish up whatever I was doing first. And I don't necessarily have the patience to learn how to do it correctly, so if it doesn't start turning out the way I envisioned it, I might just abandon it.
But it also can serve me well. Like last week when Kolby was traveling I decided I wanted the new kitchen faucet installed right then. And so I figured it out. It took 4 trips to ACE Hardware and a couple of phone calls to my dad, as well as a few towels to sop up the water that sprayed all over because I didn't tighten things up enough, but I did it. And now I have a lovely new faucet.
This is not about the kitchen sink though. Today I found a screaming deal on a shag rug for my living room. It's all rolled up in my car right now, and try as I may, I cannot carry it from the car to my house by myself. Which means I have to wait another 90 minutes for Kolby to get home from work. You have no idea how much pain this causes me. No patience.
This might seem like one of those "greatest weaknesses" that you bring up in a job interview, the kind that you can't really find anything wrong with because it's not a weakness at all. But it really does have it's downside (Kolby would agree.) For example, I become obsessed with that thing and cannot think of anything else until it is done. Can't sleep. Can't finish up whatever I was doing first. And I don't necessarily have the patience to learn how to do it correctly, so if it doesn't start turning out the way I envisioned it, I might just abandon it.
But it also can serve me well. Like last week when Kolby was traveling I decided I wanted the new kitchen faucet installed right then. And so I figured it out. It took 4 trips to ACE Hardware and a couple of phone calls to my dad, as well as a few towels to sop up the water that sprayed all over because I didn't tighten things up enough, but I did it. And now I have a lovely new faucet.
This is not about the kitchen sink though. Today I found a screaming deal on a shag rug for my living room. It's all rolled up in my car right now, and try as I may, I cannot carry it from the car to my house by myself. Which means I have to wait another 90 minutes for Kolby to get home from work. You have no idea how much pain this causes me. No patience.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Mr. Right
I really am going to post pics of the new house soon. It's just that I still have unpacked boxes in corners, and pictures on the floor propped against walls, and no baseboards, and various paint samples all over the walls, and doors off the hinges and tools everywhere. I think the tools make babies at night because every morning I swear there are more screwdrivers and hammers and drill bits spread across the fireplace hearth.
My spring quarter begins tomorrow, so I'm not too confident I'll make sense of this mess anytime soon. But maybe I can get one room complete enough to take photos by next weekend.
I will tell ya'll though, that you really let me down choosing Kolby's floor plan. I'd follow through on my threat to defriend you all, except then I'd be friendless. So here is my public statement: Kolby was right. He really did have a better idea for laying out the room. It works, and it looks good, and it is far superior to my floor plan. And the TV is in an ideal location--the kids have no excuse for eating on the couch since they can see Spongebob from the dining room table, and Madeline can no longer sneak out and watch TV at night from the hall.
My spring quarter begins tomorrow, so I'm not too confident I'll make sense of this mess anytime soon. But maybe I can get one room complete enough to take photos by next weekend.
I will tell ya'll though, that you really let me down choosing Kolby's floor plan. I'd follow through on my threat to defriend you all, except then I'd be friendless. So here is my public statement: Kolby was right. He really did have a better idea for laying out the room. It works, and it looks good, and it is far superior to my floor plan. And the TV is in an ideal location--the kids have no excuse for eating on the couch since they can see Spongebob from the dining room table, and Madeline can no longer sneak out and watch TV at night from the hall.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Hobo Chic
It's that time of year when the kids' closets need overhauls because their jeans are either too small, or have holes in the knees, or both. (And it's a frustrating time of year to buy new jeans, because they're going to start wearing shorts soon, and the jeans I buy now will probably be floods in the Fall.)
Anyway, Madeline's pants were in bad, bad shape, so a couple weeks ago I bought her all new jeans. I kept the old hole-y, too short jeans for camping, but put them on the top shelf in her closet. And for some reason, at least twice a week I have to tell her to go put them back on the top shelf and put on the new jeans.
So today, once again, she comes out wearing jeans with big blow-outs in the knees that are also 2" too short. I told her she looked like a little orphan child.
Amelia said, "Yeah, you look like a little hobo. You're a hobosexual."
Anyway, Madeline's pants were in bad, bad shape, so a couple weeks ago I bought her all new jeans. I kept the old hole-y, too short jeans for camping, but put them on the top shelf in her closet. And for some reason, at least twice a week I have to tell her to go put them back on the top shelf and put on the new jeans.
So today, once again, she comes out wearing jeans with big blow-outs in the knees that are also 2" too short. I told her she looked like a little orphan child.
Amelia said, "Yeah, you look like a little hobo. You're a hobosexual."
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Act 3: The cross country flight and frantic car ride from the aiport
So we moved this week. Did I tell you that?
Well we did. And Kolby was in NYC. There's plenty of stories to tell about all that, but really the climax of the week was Amelia's much anticipated (as well as much dreaded) talent show performance. She was sick about it for days, yet excited at the same time. If any of you remember Amelia as a preschooler, you'll know what a feat this is for her to willingly sign up for the talent show. The girl couldn't answer a question from me about lunch preferences without getting stage fright. They've been rehearsing for about two months now, and of course, Kolby has a very important business trip the week of the performance (and the week of The Move. It's important to remind you of that detail too, since this was the third move in a row he had to travel.)
Early in the morning on the day of the performance, Kolby calls me. He's missed his flight. And he's lost his phone. He bursts into tears. He knows I'll forgive him for missing the unpacking day, and luckily we have insurance on his cell phone, but the talent show? Big stuff. The parent performance begins at 6:00, and the next flight out arrives in Seattle at 5:30. Did you know that Seattle has worse traffic than L.A.? It does. It's taken us 3 hours to make the 30 minute drive from Bellevue to the airport on a Friday afternoon. But when Kolby tells me he'll make it to the performance, I don't burst his bubble. (He's crying, afterall).
I go to the school assembly and see the performance for the kids at 2:00. I did have to buy new shoes for Amelia beforehand because all of her shoes, except a pair of rain boots, somehow ended up in vaguely marked moving boxes. Amelia, does great. (I'm sure the new shoes had something to do with it.)
Madeline and I go at 6:00 (my lovely friends--mothers of Amelia's friends--stepped in as her stage mom(s) for me because I was buried in boxes) and still no Kolby. He's not answering his phone. (I know, I know. He lost it. He actually had a back-up phone. That's also another story. ) The show begins, and because I've seen it before, I know we're getting close to Amelia's performance. And no Kolby. I see Amelia move into the line up. No Kolby. The act before Amelia's begins, so I get up to find a better position for filming, just as Kolby comes thru the gym doors, sweat beads on his forehead, rumpled shirt, frantic expression like he'd just raced across the country for his daughter's first talent show...which he had. When I told him he hadn't missed her, I thought he was going to fall over. And when she began singing her incredibly charming song, he burst into tears (again).
And so I forgave him for missing moving day. But it doesn't mean he was off the hook for putting together beds and reinstalling the dishwasher on Saturday.
So....back to the real story. May I present Miss Amelia, and her fabulous backup singers Andrea and Martina!!!! (I should probably tell you that Martina's mom made the costumes because I totally forgot that was something that should be done. And she also shot this video because although I brought my Flip to record the show, I forgot to double-check that it had space. Which it did not. So go ahead and judge me. I'm really fine with that. I've decided that nursing school has been a wonderful lesson for me in letting go. I'm pretty mediocre at everything now, and we're all alive, so I guess that's okay.)
(I should also tell you, not because it's important, but because it is interesting: Martina's parents are from the little town in Chile where Kolby served his mission. Cuh-razy. And I wonder who Martina's dad is going to sue?)
Well we did. And Kolby was in NYC. There's plenty of stories to tell about all that, but really the climax of the week was Amelia's much anticipated (as well as much dreaded) talent show performance. She was sick about it for days, yet excited at the same time. If any of you remember Amelia as a preschooler, you'll know what a feat this is for her to willingly sign up for the talent show. The girl couldn't answer a question from me about lunch preferences without getting stage fright. They've been rehearsing for about two months now, and of course, Kolby has a very important business trip the week of the performance (and the week of The Move. It's important to remind you of that detail too, since this was the third move in a row he had to travel.)
Early in the morning on the day of the performance, Kolby calls me. He's missed his flight. And he's lost his phone. He bursts into tears. He knows I'll forgive him for missing the unpacking day, and luckily we have insurance on his cell phone, but the talent show? Big stuff. The parent performance begins at 6:00, and the next flight out arrives in Seattle at 5:30. Did you know that Seattle has worse traffic than L.A.? It does. It's taken us 3 hours to make the 30 minute drive from Bellevue to the airport on a Friday afternoon. But when Kolby tells me he'll make it to the performance, I don't burst his bubble. (He's crying, afterall).
I go to the school assembly and see the performance for the kids at 2:00. I did have to buy new shoes for Amelia beforehand because all of her shoes, except a pair of rain boots, somehow ended up in vaguely marked moving boxes. Amelia, does great. (I'm sure the new shoes had something to do with it.)
Madeline and I go at 6:00 (my lovely friends--mothers of Amelia's friends--stepped in as her stage mom(s) for me because I was buried in boxes) and still no Kolby. He's not answering his phone. (I know, I know. He lost it. He actually had a back-up phone. That's also another story. ) The show begins, and because I've seen it before, I know we're getting close to Amelia's performance. And no Kolby. I see Amelia move into the line up. No Kolby. The act before Amelia's begins, so I get up to find a better position for filming, just as Kolby comes thru the gym doors, sweat beads on his forehead, rumpled shirt, frantic expression like he'd just raced across the country for his daughter's first talent show...which he had. When I told him he hadn't missed her, I thought he was going to fall over. And when she began singing her incredibly charming song, he burst into tears (again).
And so I forgave him for missing moving day. But it doesn't mean he was off the hook for putting together beds and reinstalling the dishwasher on Saturday.
So....back to the real story. May I present Miss Amelia, and her fabulous backup singers Andrea and Martina!!!! (I should probably tell you that Martina's mom made the costumes because I totally forgot that was something that should be done. And she also shot this video because although I brought my Flip to record the show, I forgot to double-check that it had space. Which it did not. So go ahead and judge me. I'm really fine with that. I've decided that nursing school has been a wonderful lesson for me in letting go. I'm pretty mediocre at everything now, and we're all alive, so I guess that's okay.)
(I should also tell you, not because it's important, but because it is interesting: Martina's parents are from the little town in Chile where Kolby served his mission. Cuh-razy. And I wonder who Martina's dad is going to sue?)
Monday, March 15, 2010
It's all how you sell it.
Yesterday I was buried in books studying for my finals. Kolby was buried in #$@! packing Madeline's bedroom. Madeline was busy trying to convince Kolby that everything he thought was trash was really part of an art installation.
And Amelia was hungry.
She saw that I was going to be no help, so she made herself a ham sandwich for dinner. And then she put everything away. But then Madeline saw her sandwich and asked Amelia to make her one. So Amelia made Maddie a sandwich and put everything back in the fridge. Then Kolby saw Maddie's sandwich and he wanted one for dinner too. So Amelia got it all out again, with the addition of brown mustard because she knows he likes mustard. After making it, she again put everything away. I know all this because she narrated for me. She also let me know we were out of ham, so there would be no ham sandwich for me for dinner.
She took Kolby's sandwich in to him, and he said thanks, but then asked why he only got one piece of ham. And Amelia, already a brilliant marketer, told him, "Because you're lucky! You got the last piece."
And Amelia was hungry.
She saw that I was going to be no help, so she made herself a ham sandwich for dinner. And then she put everything away. But then Madeline saw her sandwich and asked Amelia to make her one. So Amelia made Maddie a sandwich and put everything back in the fridge. Then Kolby saw Maddie's sandwich and he wanted one for dinner too. So Amelia got it all out again, with the addition of brown mustard because she knows he likes mustard. After making it, she again put everything away. I know all this because she narrated for me. She also let me know we were out of ham, so there would be no ham sandwich for me for dinner.
She took Kolby's sandwich in to him, and he said thanks, but then asked why he only got one piece of ham. And Amelia, already a brilliant marketer, told him, "Because you're lucky! You got the last piece."
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