Welcome, Windows-Open-at-Night Season

Eliza and I have been chatting, and we agree that 

64 degrees is MUCH too cold for little girls and little moms.

 

But, we know the sun will warm up the house in no time and it's going to be a great day!

 

In the meantime, Caveman Soccer throws and fuzzy-warm baby girl blankets to the rescue!

Moving Update

Last week was pretty wild. (As I'm sure was evident by my less-than-composed posts.) But after several drives to Salt Lake County, a few scams (I'm proud that I didn't fall for a few shady offers--I was taught well that if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is!), and many hours on the phone and internet, we at last have somewhere to call home in a few weeks. If all goes well, we'll move on Saturday. Bluffdale or bust!

This is sure to be a busy week. Last night, Blake and I sat down at the laptop and made a rockin' list of things we can get done this week before moving and things we can get done next week after moving out. (Deep cleaning the house and getting it prepped for Grandma and Grandpa to come home.) I love lists! It makes life seem so much more manageable. There are 36 things on the list for this week, so I better get a move on.

Time to get a great playlist going and get to work. It's not even 8:30 and I am fed, showered, Eliza is fed and down for a nap, and I'm raring to hit the ground running. Carpe diem!

Pray for our Prophet

"Life is certainly full of daunting things, isn't it." Which is true. For all of us. But some things are more daunting than others, and they seem to just put life into perspective.

Our prayers are with the Monsons.

Rolling Stones and Hobbit Holes

Life is certainly full of daunting things, isn't it. But I'm not a wuss. (And neither are you, for the record.) I'm handling things well, despite what I may think at times. It's perfectly normal for me that this whole moving business should feel considerably less than comfortable. I'm not a rolling stone; I like moss--lots and LOTS of moss. But I'm not at a stage of life where my stone is allowed to grow very much moss before it starts rolling again. But someday, it's my dream to settle down into an area where my stone will be so covered with moss it becomes part of the surroundings--a hobbit hole if you will. Who knows? That day might be much closer than I think. But for now, I've got to scrape off the moss that we've built up in this home and start fresh again somewhere else.

And I've got to decide on the "somewhere." Today. Or very, very, very soon.

Countdown until move-out:  8 days. Give or take 4, but only under extreme circumstances.

Going A Little Crazy

*Warning* Expect some whip-lash transitions. Expect some random pieces of "Whaat? What the heck is that supposed to mean?" Don't worry. Someone somewhere who knows the jokes is going to be gusting a butt. I mean busting a gut.

I am becoming an expert on any 2-bedroom, 1-bath living prospect between $450 and $800 in ten cities along the Wasatch Front. If you're in the market and don't want to do your homework, just let me know exactly what you want and I'll tell you where to find it. Good luck getting the rental owner to respond to calls or emails, though. You're on your own there.

You know what I love? Chips. This is an affair that took root in my early childhood. My dad used to have to hide the corn chips high up in his closet because I would sneak them all the time while Mom was napping. I grew up and thought I'd developed self-control, but sometimes I'm just as much a five-year-old chip snatcher as I ever was. Then I have to forbid myself from buying them as penance and to ensure that I don't eat a whole bag in one sitting. What can I say? Nothing. Except I love chips.

It would be much easier to move if we lived around a bunch of jerks. Unfortunately, we're surrounded by some of the best people in creation. Seriously. Some of the people here make Mother Teresa look self-interested. (Was that an inappropriate comparison? My apologies to all of her posterity. Wait, Mother Teresa doesn't have posterity...)

I started packing yesterday. We figured the office can easily be boxed up since we're not in school. It's weird to be moving--and this time with a lot more stuff than last time. I think we are going to continue to be shocked at the amount of stuff we have accumulated in the last year and a half. Not to mention the things we've accumulated with having a little baby! Fortunately, most of Eliza's clothes are already boxed and organized by size. That will make packing up her little lovelies much easier.

Are we going to find a place to live? Yes. Definitely. But when? Where? Come now--what kind of adventure would this be if we knew the answers to such questions? A tame, lame adventure. Can't stand for that sort of pishposh. All or nothing! Homeless or bust! Tater-tots to the rescue!

What am I going to make for dinner? Nothing with tater-tots, to be sure. Thank you, Beth, for making bread. I love you. Eliza has cried at least twice as much as normal today. I think there might be a positive correlation between my sanity and her level of crying. And I'm not just suggesting that her crying is making me more insane. My compromised sanity might be making things difficult for her, too.

Calm. Calm is the goal. It will all work out. I can be chill. Even in the unknown. Relax. Breathe in. Breathe out. Chill.

Amazing:  Eliza just stopped crying as I typed that. Perhaps I was the catalyst for the crying after all.

I'm going to hit publish, although I'm not sure that's entirely wise. Until next time, this is the Phantom Rabbit signing out from Funny Farm USA.

Proud Mom, Grateful Daughter

*Once again, I'm suffering from oops-forgot-to-actually-publish-my-post-itis. Pretend this came to you on Saturday.*

Sorry my May posts have been getting the shaft. I've just been a busy girl and writing hasn't been at the top of my to-do list. But this morning I am filled to the brim with elation and pride and I just have to share:

Eliza slept completely through the night all by herself last night.

As in, "Goodnight, Eliza. *kiss* Sleep well. I love you." And cock-a-doodle-doo! "Good morning, Eliza! It's 7:00. Would you like some breakfast? How was your night? Oh, you didn't wake up once? How nice!"

SO PROUD.

Honestly, I'm more proud of her than excited for myself at having had a full night's sleep. What a big milestone for this tough little girl!

...

I imagine that it will be this way throughout motherhood. Being filled to overflowing with pride at the seemingly small and insignificant accomplishments of my little ones.

Or not-so-little ones.

When I've done something big or daunting that no one else would understand could be my personal triumph, I call my mom. She doesn't merely pretend to think it's a triumph worth celebrating--she knows it is and is genuinely proud and happy with me. I suppose that's because she knows me so well. She knows that my triumphs, which on the outside may appear mundane to others, are just as big a milestone in my development as taking a first step or saying a first word. And she's there every step of the way giving encouragement and sharing in my successes and struggles. I couldn't have a better sounding board, confidant, cheerleader (woo-hooer), counselor, and friend that knows me so well and understands me so completely. Thank you, Mom. I sincerely hope I can be to Eliza what you have been to me:  "Chums in joy and comrades in distress."

"Advice is free..."

"...About what it's worth, too."   - The Best Two Years

My piece of advice:  Do something cathartic today.

Go running, take a luxurious shower, read a book, create, write, paint, draw, organize, dejunk, walk on a beach if you've got one, let go of something you've been holding on to for too long, do yoga, meditate, work some hard manual labor... Whatever does the trick for you. You might be surprised by how much you actually needed it.

Happy cleansing!

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