ARTICOLI RECENTI

Seventeen hundred dollar week

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Yes. i’m sighing over dead dad again. click the pearls to the left and head to 704 if you want funnay. victoria brought it with her post today.

my dad lived in the same town for thirty years and now 90 percent of his things are divided between 3 storage units in that town.

while i sit in the dark and write, Prof stands by those units watching people load all of that stuff into a truck.

and that truck will bring all that stuff to my garage.

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Painting the Porch

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the crazy lady on the block. I’m trying to at least disguise this fact from the neighborhood by working on her porch.

Paint peeling, railing falling down, you’d think the person who lived in the house didn’t care at all about appearances except there are hand embroidered pillows on the porch swing and the cushions on the swing and the chairs are made by her hands.

I told her it was my therapy to work on something, which isn’t a lie. Standing there chipping years old paint, filling bare spots with wood filler, smoothing white primer then Jubilee Gray paint over the porch rails, all while standing in the spring sunshine with the breeze in my hair – these are all good things for me. They clear my mind and let my mind do it’s work without having to try to think through the events of the last month.

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I can now get on with my life

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If you’ve known me for a long time, you would have known that when I was pregnant, I was hoping that Connor was going to be a girl.  And even though I’ve said that I’m happy with 2 boys, I’ve never really given it much deep thought (I even wrote about it last week without much thought).

I’d never really planned on having more that 2 children, but the thought has crossed my mind (very fleetingly) in the last 10 months.  What if I did, and it was a girl?  I’d be over the moon.  But if it was another boy?  Well, that’s where I stopped thinking about it!

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Saying adieu to 2018

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Well, it’s almost 2019, so this is as good a time as any to reflect on the year that’s passed.

This has been a challenging year to say the least. A lot has happened, and not all of it good. I’m not going to go through all the things that have happened this year (I wouldn’t want to bore you), but thought I’d reflect on some of the things I’ve learnt this year.

I’ve learnt that I can’t cope on my own with everything. I discovered that while Connor was in NICU (follow the NICU tags to see the full saga). Sometimes I do in fact need help.

I’ve found new friends this year. Good friends. And I’ve learnt things about my old friends that I didn’t know before.

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Another morning

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It was another morning in the gray weathered house. The kitchen was cold and empty, but there was anxious activity in the back of the house that could be heard. The windows were being wiped down, a bed was being prepared. The best quilt was being laid on the bed. Blue and white quilted butterflies decorated the double bed sized quilt. Gently patterned flowers in blue and purple scattered across the bedskirt. Pillows were fluffed, a robe was set aside on a hook. Everything in room was comfortable looking except for one pair of high heeled black and white sandals.

The sandals were out of place in the rustic space. Everything in the room was there for comfort and hominess. These shows were all about going out and getting attention. There was nothing comforting about the shoes. They made no sense in the space. Decks of cards were placed in a drawer of the dresser by the bed. A well worn green Bible was placed on the top of the bedside table.

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Carseat

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We’re going to have to upsize the carseat soon. Which sucks, because I’m still not over the trauma of installing the first one.

We put the car seat bases in the vehicles at about Week 34. Not because we thought we would need them in the next few days, just because we were out of decent storage space in the house for 2 bases, a carseat and a stroller. Might as well put them in the vehicles, we figured.

Mother scratching LATCH system ’bout damn near killed me. I wrestled with the sumbitch for a LONG time. Finally, breaking a sweat, bruising my fingers and yelling the Lords name in vain loud enough I’m sure the entire neighborhood heard me (but Scout missed b/c he was vacuuming inside the house) I got the thing in there and secure as secure can be.

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Little Milestones

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(Oh, gentle reader, if you are a hard core CIO parent or if your kids have really, truly never slept in your bed and co-sleepers make you crazy – I beg you – please go read the archives today – because this post will totally make you itch and you’ll hurt yourself rolling your eyes, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself. This is all about me wanting to take care of you – clearly not at all about me not wanting you to think I’m a dingbat.)

Okay, so it’s just us now? Here we go.

I had one rule before Alex was born – This kid isn’t sleeping in our bed.

And he didn’t. For 8 weeks. Because one of us slept on the couch with him. Every night until we moved cross country.

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