Monday, January 31, 2011


So much of life is timing.

Buying a house then, bad timing. Phoenix seemed like a deal, the prices already sliding. We thought our timing was good.

Buying a house now, still bad timing, but for different reasons. Boston real estate means that now we talk about equity in terms of our losses. The word equity can be about fairness, but we can't even begin to think of it that way.

There is the timing of going back to work. The timing of the children, five years apart. Good timing? Bad timing?

This winter I am baking in a new oven, in a new place. Two years and three states, five different ovens counting the temporary housing in between each move. It is a nice enough oven, but I don't know it well enough yet. The timer goes ding and I still can't be sure that what I have prepared is ready.

Friday, January 28, 2011

On the plus side...

The mudroom is not heated and thus cold enough to act as beer storage. It's like I got a ginormous new walk-in refrigerator.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

"I'm not going to break a fit."

Little Guy has this expression - he says "I'm not going to break a fit." It means he's trying to hold it together, not have a tantrum, not get himself in trouble. He says it while squinting his eyes and clenching his little fists, like it takes every ounce of his being to hold it in.

I think it's the perfect expression for what I am feeling right now. Seven days of having sick kids, another snow storm, shoveling onto piles so high that they fall back on you, Hubs out of town...

but I am NOT going to break a fit.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Does this sound like cabin fever?

Whenever Hubs is out of town, I have this fantasy that I can snap my fingers and multiples of me will pop up, ready to get to work. There are four of us at bedtime - one to read to each of the two children, one to walk the dog, and another to clean the kitchen and tidy the house.

Somehow, even though these "extras" are all me, they have distinctly different personalities. The dog walker stays up too late, drinks too much, and is one of those women who thinks of the dog as her child. The mothers both read as many pages as the children want, one sews costumes at Halloween and the other bakes perfect pies. They are both in great shape. The housekeeper is the writer because she sees everything that goes on and also because the mothers are too tired and the dog walker is a procrastinator.

I wonder if I might be spending too much time alone with the kids.

Monday, January 24, 2011

It could always be...

You know you're having a run of it when the only way to cheer yourself is to imagine how much worse it could be.

Little Guy got a virus on Friday and spent the better part of the weekend moaning and whining and not sleeping. A virus on top of the stitched ear. Today he tugged his good ear and said it hurt.

Good grief.

Yes, a raging ear infection in the good ear. He's been glued to me since Thursday and I'm tired. All that on top of a bunch of other stuff that has been going on with me. Stuff I won't go into, because, well - you know, it could always be worse.

But then again, it could always be better.

Friday, January 21, 2011


Little Guy had his first crash landing yesterday, one that required a trip to the ER, a few stitches, and several glasses of wine (me, not him). He was playing near the coffee table and tripped, splitting his left earlobe.

Yep. He lost his balance in the slightly too large slippers that I insisted he put on and then fell right into the boat anchor cement-topped coffee table that I decided to keep. My fault, all the way around.

He's okay, but I'm not really.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011


So it's been pretty blustery here and yesterday, for the first time, I had serious doubts about hitting the road. It was, however, open play at the gymnastics studio and probably Little Guy's favorite part of the week. Lots of open space to run and jump, ropes to climb and swing from, giant pits of foam and trampolines. He needed it.

Okay, I needed it.

So I scraped the car, shoveled the sidewalk, and eased the mini-van onto the road. It was slushy, a little slippery on the turns, but safe enough for a ten minute drive. We just put new tires on the car and I can tell they make a big difference. I can't say that I've ever noticed my tires before now, so score one point for inclement weather.

This is it. I am in the thick of it, the worst of the weather. Today we had snow, then ice, followed by rain. Shoveling the driveway in the rain is the opposite of fun. Yesterday the plow came by like five times and this morning, once again, there was a boulder-sized chunk of ice in the driveway. I might have sworn at the plow driver.

I am going to really love spring this year.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011


Whenever someone finds out we're from the south and that we relocated to Boston by way of Phoenix we get the same sort of thing- a look, something close to sympathy but with a little flash of snark, and the question, "so, how do you like it?"

I know what they are getting at. Yeah, there is the weather, and the traffic, and the cost of living that teeters on almost unaffordable, but still, the truth is, I love it.

I really love it.

We've moved around a good bit in the last few years and I am well aware of the fact that you take yourself wherever you go. In other words, the scenery changes, but the day to day is often the same. You always bring the baggage with you and despite best efforts to cram everything into a carry-on, the stuff you drag from place to place only gets heavier and more unwieldy. You can't simply move to a new place and start over.

Yet somehow, I am finding this change to be different. I feel a sense of belonging, of right-ness with my geography. It is something I have never experienced, a special and unexpected gift. It is like I found myself on a map. I am still the same, but here, in Boston, I am better at being me.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Relax already!

Somewhere in the process of moving across the country with two kids in tow (me, mostly on my own) and a crazy work travel schedule (Hubs, mostly on his own), Hubs and I forgot how to have fun together.

This year, we've resolved, if you want to call it that, to change things. First up, cross country ski lessons. After Christmas we went out and splurged on the gear. Last night we had our first lesson together followed by a late bite to eat nearby. We had such a good time, laughing and talking about the experience. It really felt like a date. We were having so much fun, in fact, that Hubs left his Blackberry in the car when we went into the restaurant. Seriously.

This morning I expected to be sore, but oddly enough I feel great, except that my right hand is a little tender from the death grip I had on my ski pole. The instructor kept telling us to relax our hands and hold the poles gently. After a good bit of shuffling back and forth on a mostly level track, I finally got a feel for the motion of the skis, but apparently I need to work on that relaxing thing.

More lessons on letting go. Ah the irony.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Happy New Year

Too bad there isn't always a vintage inspired blinky red sign hanging around to remind us!