And the Universe wasn’t done at just breaking the water pump, oh no…  Zach managed to blister his hand on some hot oil while I was outside gathering snow to melt (so we could flush the toilet).

Then when it was his turn to go out and gather snow, Xander forgot to put down the toilet seat after he used it, which we didn’t realize until we heard Parker splashing in it (yuck!)  And of course, we didn’t have any good way to clean up anyone without any water…

Our evening just turned into a series of unfortunate events, culminating in a half dead mouse on our carpet this morning that we couldn’t flush down the toilet with the rest because there wasn’t enough melted snow left, so he sort of floated in a little pee bath while we hurriedly melted more snow to get him to go away.

The good news? We have running water again!  It’s amazing how easy it is to take things like electricity and running water for granted, and how much you rely on those sorts of things.  Between the 4 day power outage and now water failure, it feels like moving out of town moved us back into the 1800’s.

The bad news? “Phase 1″ alone cost us $1,970.00.  At $180/hour those well guys aren’t cheap, and our pump was apparently difficult to get at.  We’re still waiting on a quote for “Phase 2″ and in a matter of hours all of those exciting plans we had for the house (including a nice, new fancy generator to prevent problems like 4 day power outages) fly out of our bank accounts in the blink of an eye.

So welcome to Sara’s pity party – table for one please.  I know someday it’ll get better.  Someday we won’t have something breaking on our house or car every week.  Someday we’ll go a whole day without finding a dead mouse in the trap in our silverware drawer (don’t worry – the silverware is safely stored elsewhere for now).  Someday I won’t find little pockets of seeds stored by mice in my clean laundry baskets or t-shirt drawers (clean laundry that I can’t re-wash yet because there is still too much sediment in my water…).  Someday the Universe will cut us a break.  Someday the stress will go away and we’ll actually be able to enjoy this house that we fell in love with (I love you, but I don’t really like you right now kind of love).

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So, we put our house on the market at the end of the summer.  Much to our surprise, it sold in November.  So, in three weeks we packed up all of our earthly belongings and moved into a rental house for the winter.  We lived out of boxes and desperately missed our carefully collected possessions as we searched for the perfect home for our children.

Despite our realtor’s concerns, we insisted on looking at this house way out in the middle of nowhere.  The town population doesn’t even come close to 100 people.  Despite that, it’s still only 15 minutes from work, and we knew some people with kids the same age just down the street.

We fell in love.  Sure, the house needs some love and some updating, but it’s in pretty good shape, and it’s huge.  It’s got a brook running through the property (perfect for throwing rock into, and getting completely wet and muddy in) and it’s got a Harry Potter closet under the stairs.

So, we bought it.  It took lots of super-human effort, and begging and pleading with numerous local and state officials to get the paperwork completed, but we finally did it.

And we moved.  Good God we moved.  Our beloved (and exhausted) friends all turned out one sunny Saturday in February and packed all of our belongings from a storage unit and the rental house into a U-haul and a few trucks and poured it all into this new (and now not-so-spacious-because-it’s-filled-with-all-our-crap) home.

And then we started to settle in.  We sorted toys and washed clothes.  We rearranged furniture and learned how our house worked.  And then we lost power for 3 days (gotta love living in the sticks…).  And we worried about pipes freezing, and our children became nomadic, shifting from home to home staying warm, fed and occupied while we prayed for the electric company to fix all those downed lines in record time.

During this move and settle period, I knew there were mice in the house.  I had seen evidence of their existence when we first looked at the house.  That first week I could hear them rustling somewhere as I lay in bed, and I actually saw one running around under a couch and behind some boxes.

Now, the mice have gotten used to us.  I actually think they like the company.  We brought in two not-so-neat children who love to leave discarded food on the floor.  We keep the place warmer than they’re used to, and we’ve given them lots and lots of new things to chew through.

They are so comfortable in fact, that they don’t run when they see Zach walk into the basement anymore.  Last night I found mouse poo in our silverware drawer (is there anything in the world ickier? It certainly gave me the heebie jeebies for the night).  So, I spent the evening sanitizing everything I could get my hands on.  The glue traps have been out for three days now, but not a single mouse has fallen for that trick yet (we have smart mice people!)

So, creepy, icky, pooping, scratching, chewing, dirty mice it. is. on.  We paid good money for this house.  We own it.  We aren’t moving (and couldn’t afford to even if we wanted to).  We will not cohabitate with you.  The snap traps are coming in tonight.  Spray foam for every crack and cranny will be added this weekend.  We will continue to unpack boxes and place things in plastic bins where you can’t get them.  We will win because we are bigger, smarter and stronger than you (unless you are Pinky or Brain, in which case, we’re doomed).

If anyone has any good suggestions for a) getting rid of mice; b) keeping them away; or c) cleaning and sanitizing things that clearly have had a mouse visit, I’m all ears (no pun intended)

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Parker's current favorite: Cornelius P. Mud, Are You Ready For Bed?

Parker is in love with books.  He show little interest in other toys at the moment and instead prefers to carry around a book – mostly any book will do.  If he happens to see you wander by while he’s carrying a book, he beelines to you and holds up the book with this pleading look in his eye and only someone with superhuman strength can say “no, I can’t ready you that book right now” which means that we have been reading lots and lots of board books in our house lately.  It’s adorably cute.  We were thrilled when Xander reached this phase – for a long time the only “toys” we had in our living room was just a bookcase overflowing with all of his favorites.  It’s great to get back here and have lots of cuddling and reading time with the little guy

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Step 1: Sell your house – be sure you are required to pack everything you own and move in exactly 3 weeks.  The 3 weeks before Thanksgiving is best.

Step 2: Find a new house you love at a great price, but be sure it’s in a small town.  This way, when it comes time to do an appraisal it’ll take over a month because there won’t be any comparable houses on the market for them to determine current market value.

Step 3: Make sure the seller knows ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about the house he is selling.  This way, you can do fun things like call the town clerk on her cell phone while she’s at work, or leave a mildly desperate message for the original owner of the house, or wait impatiently for the State Archives to uncover a map of your septic layout.

Step 4: It’s a good idea to try for an FHA loan.  The rates are good, and the percentage you need to put down is nice, and the best part is that there are a million and one extra requirements that ordinary loans don’t need to follow.  This will ensure that your application goes to underwriting a few times and gets sent back for more information, delaying your closing time and time again.

Step 5: It’s also a good idea to only sign a 2 month lease at your rental house (where you can only stay until the end of April, max) so that you’ll have a small amount of hope that you won’t have to pay yet another month’s rent, but then in the end you’ll be forced to because you can’t seem to convince anyone to give you money to buy the house before rent is due.

Step 6: It’s awesome when the septic map you send to the underwriters from the State Archives doesn’t have distances labeled on it.  That way, the underwriters will reject it and say your application doesn’t meet FHA requirements.  But wait – there is one more trick up your sleeve!

Step 7: Have your mortgage broker convince the Town Clerk to write a letter from the town saying that the septic plan meets the state requirements.

Step 8: Try to sleep knowing that tomorrow you’ll find out whether you’ll be able to buy your forever dream house where your family can enjoy many happy years, or the money you’ve already invested in the deal is gone and you don’t have enough left to put a down payment on a different house, so you and your family will be forced to rent an apartment for the next several years while you try to save enough to start this cycle all over again.

The following steps are nearly guaranteed to give you the following:

• More gray hair
• Baggy eyes from lack of sleep
• Less sleep
• Stomach pains
• Ulcers
• Reduced work productivity
• Potential snappiness

Good Luck!

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He discovered the joys of wandering around while snacking.  In Xander’s opinion, he always needed to have two of whatever he was eating – one in each hand.  It was pretty cute to watch him toddling all over the house with a cheerio in each hand, and if he ate one, he’d come back for another – never satisfied being out of balance with just one hand filled.

Now this kid comes along:

He toddles around the house in a very similar manner as his brother.  However, he’s taken this snacking while toddling thing one step further.  Not only does he need a snack in each hand, but one in his mouth as well (don’t worry – we keep everything smaller than bit-sized to minimize choking risk).  That’s my second son – he never does anything part way.  I think “go big or go home” will someday be his motto…

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Example one: An old friend was scheduled to come into town for a visit earlier this week.  Plans had tentatively been made to meet up at a local bar/restaurant after work on Monday to catch up.  The person making the plans was a little vague on the details, but since the location was family friendly, and I hadn’t seen this person in a long long time, Zach and I decided we’d be brave and have the kids tag along.  So, Sunday night was full of preparation – I packed a diaper bag, and a bag of toys to hopefully keep the boys entertained.  I prepared Xander for the following day’s plans.  I carefully picked out clothing for school that wouldn’t accentuate the large amounts of food my kids manage to spill on themselves throughout the day.  The next morning I packed a few remaining supplies – milk for Parker, a juice box for Xander, gummies for both of them.  I continued mentioning Xander our plans for after school, and told him he could even have a “special” drink (a.k.a. shirley temple).  3pm rolls around, and I hear that plans have changed – they are no longer going to the family friendly location, but rather to one of the sketchier bars in town.  Needless to say, there was no way I was bringing my kids to that bar.  This made me so frustrated.  Not only was I really looking forward to catching up with my old friend, but I had put so much effort into planning for the evening and I just knew tears would ensue when Xander found out we were not going to a restaurant and he would not have his special drink.  I ended up sending off a short and rather snarky email – the location was shifted back and we all had a pleasant time visiting before the kidless crowd relocated themselves to the sketchier bar.

Example two: Wednesday night we arrived home at 5:30.  At 5:40 Zach received an email from his boss with a request.  After a follow-up to check the deadline, Zach learned that he had exactly one hour to finish the request.  This threw our whole evening out of whack.  My plans for a healthy meal – gone.  My hope to help Xander with a thank-you note and Valentine’s Day Cards for school, not happening.  Instead, I packed the boys back into the car (over many protests) and we drove to McDonald’s.  We spent $12 for the three of us to eat fried crap and Xander to get a junky toy.  An hour later, we drove back home (again).  I understand that Zach’s job requires more than just 9-5 attention.  I am completely supportive of his efforts to tweak scripts and research problems in the evenings and respond to emails nearly 24/7.  What I couldn’t fathom was why Zach (and others in his office) had to drop everything from their evening routines to get a request done for 7pm on a Wednesday night.  There was no 8pm meeting that I was aware of.  And other than convenience for the boss to have some extra reading time, I couldn’t see any other logical explanation for the upheaval in our evening.

Twice this week my hackles have been raised by people without children failing to consider the massive amount of effort that goes into shifting plans or last minute requests.  I feel like I’m being unreasonable – as one of my childless friends loves to remind me “kids are a choice” – and he’s completely right.  I chose to have children, and I accept all of the responsibility and hassle that comes with that choice.  But, I do get frustrated when others forget about the effort and hassle that I’m juggling.

Am I being unreasonable in expecting those without kids to remember the time and effort that goes into preparations for them?  Should I just suck it up and continue juggling without complaint, or should I continue to remind people when they forget that it is more work and effort and some consideration is appreciated?

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With Parker, it’s the exact opposite.  Case in point: yesterday I arrived at day care to pick up the boys.  I stopped to check in with Parker’s teacher, and while I was there, another little boy’s mother arrived.  Parker was already in his coat and ready to go, but toddling around happily while I talked.  When this mother help up her son’s coat to get him ready, he immediately laid face-down on the ground and began to cry.  She and the teacher began discussing this new behavior of his while a little girl in the class helped the boy up off the floor.  He continued to cry, but was standing.  Parker toddled over with his arms out.  I almost picked him up as he walked by, but he had his arms out like maybe he was going to hug this other little boy, so I let him go.  What did he do you ask? He walked right up to this crying little boy with a big smile on his face and pushed him in the chest.  I was mortified.  I of course swooped Parker away and said “oh Parker, we don’t push, we hug” while demonstrating a hug.  Parker may or may not have understood the lesson (I repeated it a few times) but it’s been sinking in with me for months.  Our boy is rough and tumble through and through.  He loves to push, pull, tug and hit.  It doesn’t seem to matter how many times we remind him to be gentle or how many times we show him how to touch people gently.  His first reaction is to hit.  His behavior means that he is the child who is put into a pack ‘n play or a jump-a-roo to give the other kids in the room a break from him.  Parker really believes that he is just playing, that his actions are all in fun, but of course they aren’t interpreted that way.  We won’t give up, but this new kid with this new behavior is certainly proving to be a challenge for us!

How about the rest of you – do you have a hitter or a biter, and have you found any effective strategies in teaching them other methods of “playing”?

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Spoiler alert – if you haven’t seen it and you want to, don’t read the rest of this post. The episode opens with a woman giving birth (not the gory stuff), but she isn’t interested in the baby, only in the baby’s cord blood.  It turns out the couple has a pair of 8 year old daughters with leukemia and they need the cord blood to treat them.  Unfortunately, the cord blood has a low cell count which means there is only enough to treat one of the girls.

This is of course Hollywood drama – the parents are  then faced with the decision – which daughter do they save?  The mother puts her foot down.  She refuses to choose.  If they can’t both live, then they both die.  The show paints the mother as crazy, and cruel for not choosing to save at least one of her daughters.  And I found myself sympathizing with her.  In her shoes, I don’t think I could choose which child lived and which child didn’t.  It’s the age-old Sophie’s Choice question.  It kind of surprised me that the writer’s of the show weren’t more sympathetic to this woman’s position.

None of us can really know how we’d react in a similar situation unless we are actually faced with it.  I know that much as I’d love to be the type who springs into action, my instinct is to freeze in the face of an emergency.  I can only imagine that I would freeze, shut down, if faced with that sort of choice.  The father in this episode did choose, sort of.  He voiced his opinion, and a few minutes later (again with Hollywood drama) the daughter he chose to let go got too sick for the treatment.  Watching them explain to the two sisters that one was going to live and one was going to die was most definitely a tear-jerker.

If nothing else, the story from this episode made me squeeze my children a little tighter and longer this morning and send a silent non to the Gods that everything is right in our little world, and that my kids are healthy, happy and safe.

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The worst part of the inescapable spelling bee is that I’m pretty sure Xander thinks we’re like seals.  He asks and we perform.  I’m not convinced that there is any sort of retention or learning going on when we spell.  I think this because if you ask Xander to repeat what was just spelled, or even the first letter, he can’t (or won’t – not sure which) do it.  Which then leaves me wondering at 8pm when I’m trying to get the little man to sleep and he’s asking me “Mama, how do you spell ‘bear’?” why do I keep going?  I’m pretty sure it’s negative reinforcement, like when you pick up a phone to make it stop ringing, or pick up a tea kettle to get it to stop whistling.  I wonder when (and how) we’ll get out of this never-ending spelling bee…

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Fast forward to several sleepless nights and two days home, first with Xander and then with Parker (who managed to catch another bout of RSV, complete with a 101.6 temperature and back onto nebulizer treatments).  Parker is still waking up between 2:30 and 3:30 every morning for a few hours, and Xander is still crying every morning that he doesn’t feel good and doesn’t want to go to school (please note that by the time we arrive at school he is running to get inside and play with his friends, so we’re not taking those complaints too seriously).

Evenings have been EXHAUSTING.  First, one kid will cry, and then before one of us can calm that one down, the other starts crying so we’ve had an almost constant flow of tears between the hours of 5pm and 8pm for the past 5 days.  Yeah, I’m on my pity wagon – all are welcome!  I’m hopeful that we’ll turn the corner this weekend and start to see more smiling and less crying.

Unfortunately, Xander has rediscovered his love of puzzles recently.  He’s getting quite good at putting them together on his own.  The biggest challenge is that Parker firmly believes that his primary role in our family is to pick up puzzle pieces and put them in boxes.  He couldn’t care less if anyone else might have wanted to use that particular piece.  This of course starts a great deal of arguments and the cycle continues until Parker goes to sleep. Ah, the joys of parenthood…

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