do you want to see my kitchen? I bet you do...

Pardon another post about the house, but there is just SO much progress now. Let me introduce, our cabinets! No counter tops yet...

I may be biased, because after all we picked them out, but I think these babies are gorgeous!

I might be shallow, but you have no idea how happy the sight of this makes me... I'm laughing right now, I'm so excited.

fridge

I sold our fridge last night. It was the fridge we bought when we bought our old house. Just a normal basic white freezer on top fridge. We're going with black appliances in our new house and the old fridge was taking up space in the tiny garage that doubles as a storage unit here in this tiny townhouse. I posted it on Craigslist and some guy drove halfway across Phoenix to buy it. While they were loading it on the truck, he said did I mind him asking what my husband and I did for a living. "I'm a stay at home mom," I said. "And my husband is an Engineer. He works for Boeing." I realized when I said this, how proud I am to be a sahm. And proud that my husband works so hard so that I can be one. It was nice. I didn't feel the need to explain myself. I am a mother, my job is caring for my children. There are other things I love, but I don't need to tell him that. I smiled as I was thinking this. Thinking about how I didn't have to explain myself, or why I've chosen to do what I do. And as I was thinking about this he started telling me about his life. About how he used to have a business, about how he just got divorced, how he lost his house. He told me he kept saying it couldn't get worse and then it would, so now he said it will get better. He told me how awful it was to lose everything at once. His wife, his job, his home, everything. I felt so, I don't know, sad I guess. The kid that was with him, it might have been his son, looked like he was embarrassed that the guy was telling me this. But there's no shame in admitting that life has humbled you. No shame in saying that life is hard and bad stuff happens, and we can look at whatever situation we've been given and say, "it will get better." I hope it will get better, for that guy. I hope the fridge treats him well.

halloween at last.

A smattering of fall pictures for your viewing pleasure...

pumpkin patch adventures

Hannah's get-up. Purple Butterfly

I thought Ethan's face was priceless in this picture.

Hannah was all ready for her school party.

Painting up Carter's face for trick-or-treating.

Carter's Get-up. A Bluejay.

It looked kind of freaky.

BLuejay zombie, maybe.

The little bunch.

Painting on Ethan's Whiskers.

Ethan's get-up: A Puppy.

Just Waiting.

Trick-or-treating.

sand angels. yuck.

Shorts in November.

Welcome to Arizona.

The end.

painted house.

Sorry, you're going to have to endure another post about the new homestead.
They painted on Friday. Hurah! For progress.

Do you love the color? I do. Fabulous earth tone. Lie to me if you don't like it...

In side, textured and painted as well. Here I am standing in the entryway. That's the library right behind me.

Craig in our bathroom. I love that man. He's worked so hard to get us this house, and he makes it possible for me to stay home with the kiddos. Plus, he looks hot in a tie. Sorry, I'm just sayin'.

Me on the back patio, chillin with the dirt. Yes. I am blessed. So so blessed.

...on the poetry of Robert Louis Stevenson

I wonder if I've made it clear in writing sporadically on this little online journal of mine, exactly how important the written word is to me. I've had my nose in a book since about the time I learned how to read. I started writing poetry in 6th grade. Everyone told me it was wonderful. Now that I look back though, I think it probably wasn't all that good. Love of the written word has not lessened as I have grown older. It has blossomed into an appreciation for good modern literary writing, a love of the classics, a slight obsession with Jane Austen, and now, with writing my own words. Where did this come from? I often ask myself. I think everyone is given to certain tendencies, things they naturally gravitate to. I think I would have been a reader/writer whatever my background, but I truly believe that I found these things earlier in life due to the influence of, my mother. Nora Lee the saint. Seriously, not kidding about the saint thing. My mother, how to describe this woman? I don't have the words. I'll have to illustrate for you instead. I grew up on the poetry of Robert Louis Stevenson. My mother laying next to me in my bed tracing her finger slowly across my face, over my cheeks, along my forehead, down my nose, and singing softly in her clear as a bell voice, the words to "The Swing" and "My Shadow." Beautiful children's poetry written by a superior mind, made more magical in the melody of a mothers voice. Literature soothes me. Reading a book makes me feel happy, content. Poetry is like music. It's not hard to see why. Thanks, Mom.

My Shadow
I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow--Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,And he sometimes goes so little that there's none of him at all.
He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.He stays so close behind me, he's a coward you can see;I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up,I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

ps. I sang that song to Carter tonight, Mom. He smiled the whole time.

instead,

I was going to blog about Halloween, but instead I wanted to show you all the pictures of our house!!! It's getting SO CLOSE, finally!!! We make a little trip out there after church every Sunday to check on the progress. This in addition, of course, to me driving past it everyday when I pick up Hannah from school.

family room
front, we have a door people
front again, with me... sweating in the 90 degree weather, in November

Entry way, living room and dining are in front of me, kind of where Carter is. If you look just past Hannah's head you can see into the library.
Kitchen, it connects to the family room. (and there is my huge island)

yay!

ps. our move-in date is set for December 21st.

this should be an interesting Christmas.

been there.

this video is so freakin' hilarious, I'm crying right now.


but that's probably because I've been there a thousand times.

14, seriously?

I'm in the gym today, on one of the machines and as I stop to take a break between sets I'm approached by two men. One of them older, one probably in his late 20's. The younger one said:

"I'm sorry to bother you, but we've been having a little discussion and we were wondering if you could clear it up for us?"

"Okay?" I answer.

"You see," the older one goes on, "neither of us thinks you are old enough to be working out in a gym..." he wasn't rude about this, he was being perfectly polite, "I think you are 14, my buddy here thinks you're 16."

"HAHA!" I laugh. "You're both wrong, I'm 26."

They blanked. I just snickered.

"Wow. You look really young." says the younger guy.

"Yeah, I get that all the time," I say, then I laugh again. "In fact I'll be 27 soon, and" for added measure I add, "I have three kids."

The older guy started laughing, and says, "well you are so tiny, I never would have guessed."

"Thanks," I said.

"You'll love it as you get older," he said rubbing his gray hair.

"I think so too," I smiled and they walked away.

I laughed again, I couldn't help it. I know I look young, but 14? Seriously?

I don't know you tell me, do I look 14?

Hmm.

As I'm leaving with my boys the younger guy (who's standing by the front desk) yells out, "Bye teen-mom!"

hahahahahahaha...

2 big 2 fast.

Today I'm celebrating,

the birth of the world's most delicious child.who's cuddly, easy going, and a big tease.

Who's let me nibble his scrumptious cheeks everyday for the past two years.

and even likes it.

Why does he insist on growing up so fast? I want to keep him my baby forever, and he just won't let me...

darling, delicious, beautiful boy.

Happy Birthday Ethan.

found

do you remember the check that i tore the townhouse apart for last week.


this morning i found it.



yeeesssssssss.