Wanted: Lost Brain Cells

Do you ever have days where you wake up and swear you felt dumber when you got out of bed? [Sadly for me, I have more than my share of those days.]

I woke up this morning and made pancakes for the kids. Got busy unloading the dishwasher and burned the first batch. And not just crisp mind you, but burned so badly that the poor little pancake CSI unit would need dental records to even identify them as former pancakes. I was not at all paying attention - totally forgot what I was doing. Which I never do. [At least not when it comes to warm, delicious hot things first thing in the morning.]

Then I went to exercise. Due to my inability to stay on top of my Netflix queue, the only movie I had to watch while running was "Little Man." Anyone seen this Wayans Brothers movie? I'm sure at some point in time I thought it might be good for a laugh. I'll tell you right now that, no, it isn't. I'm pretty sure I heard brain cells jumping off my shoulders as though my head was the Titanic and they wanted a fighting chance. Can't say as I blame them.

Next came our errands. My cell phone had been charging all last night, and I forgot to stick it in my purse before we left the house. Which led me to miss the phone call from our floor contractor telling us they found "water" when they were removing the kitchen floor in the new house. When I tried to call him back to find out just what he meant by "water," he was already gone for the day. Was it standing water? Water damage? Ruined-new-house kind of water? I could just tell that the brain cells weren't even wearing life vests this time - they were committing suicide in droves.

And the icing on the cake came this afternoon when I took the kids swimming at the pool. We had the pool to ourselves (bonus to living in a condo complex where hardly anyone has kids) and it was such a lovely day. My usual post at the pool? Sitting in the shade with a magazine. Today? Swimming all day like a fish. It was fantastic except for one, teensy, minor detail. Sunscreen.

Sunscreen on the children? Oh, umpteen times. Sunscreen on me? Nada. Yes, sadly, I had multiple chances to apply some and did not. I don't know what I was thinking. I always wear sunscreen. I am a fanatic about EVERYONE wearing sunscreen. Today I was out in the sun for about four hours without a stitch of UVA/UVB protection. And I'm paying for it tonight.

So I sit here shivering, blisters already forming on my red skin and wondering what happened to my brain today. Wondering futilely if the manager up there will hurry and put a light on - in case some of those lost cells try to make it back home. I really need them. Me no likey being so dum. Me like to be suhmart. Help!

Aunts, Uncles, and Kids, Oh My!

One successful Mud Run.
Two trips to the beach (still not enough).
Three tired and happy kids.
Four aunts and uncles to play with.
Five grown-ups in all.
Six rounds of Polly Pockets for Marta and Hannah.
Seven songs from our own Neil Diamond impersonator (always never enough).
Eight seats filled with sand in the car.
Nine games of Mannequin (oh yes, Josh, the game lives on).
What we'd give our weekend? A perfect Ten. It was so much fun and we wish you were still here. Missing you already and hoping for a safe drive home.

[P.S. Hit refresh on your browser if the slideshow doesn't show up - still trying to figure out what I'm doing!]

A home for his birthday

As of nine o'clock central time this morning, my husband is no longer homeless. I have made fun of him nonstop due to his homeless state. He's been frugally bunking it up in some not-so-nice hotels for the last two months - loading everything he owns into his car, then heading to the airport for his weekend trips here. And two weeks from today, the kids and I will join him in our new home. Here's one more look at our house (because now it seems real to me and I'm getting so excited):

We've got some remodeling that begins on Monday (starting with the replacement of all the floors on the entire main level). Once we get everything done, I will post some before and after shots. You will be impressed, trust me.

So happy birthday, baby. No more standing on a street corner with a cardboard sign for you. You now have a place to leave all your junk (at least until I get there and hide it away). See you soon.

Definitive proof that he shares my genetics

We've got some guests coming to visit tomorrow. Josh's brother Pete (and his wife Anna), and Josh's sister, Marta (and her husband Dan), are coming down to compete in the Camp Pendelton 10K Mud Run. We are all extremely excited about this as, frankly, it gives us something fun to do. Josh will be closing on the house in St. Louis this Friday, and will stay the weekend there to ready it up for the remodeling that begins on Monday. Since it is way too early to get packing, it's nice for me to have some company. Plus, we just adore P&A and M&D. And what better excuse to make some "Peterskeevers" and spend a few days at the beach?

Now, as anyone who knows me can tell you, I am a slightly neurotic, mildly OCD (okay, CRAZY) clean freak. My disease becomes especially symptomatic when I have guests coming. I like to present a clean house. One with dusted baseboards. And wiped-down ceiling fans. And organized closets. And tile grout scrubbed with a toothbrush - you know, what any normal, sane person would do for fun on a weekday. Chase was all excited to help me clean - which I figured would translate into him either watching me clean or spraying an entire bottle of 409 into the toilet. Being the nice mother that I am, I let him help.

With some surprisingly decent help on his part, Chase and I got the kids' bathroom done (which will be the guest bathroom this weekend). I mentioned in passing that maybe the kids should use my bathroom from now on as theirs was now clean (and I did not want to have to clean it again tomorrow). Chase took my warning VERY seriously and intended for others to do the same.

I came down the hall a few minutes later to find the bathroom blocked off with yellow police tape, warning all trespassers that it was for "imarginsy" use only.

Seeing his eagerness to safeguard his hard work, I now feel confident that I did indeed get the right baby at the hospital seven-and-a-half years ago. He is so much like me.

Hannah, though, made sure to promptly sneak in and use the facilities, despite the obvious warning.

Which provides conclusive proof to me that she truly IS Josh's daughter. (And not the mailman's like we thought.)

You take the good, you take the bad...

We are a few short weeks away from trading in this California paradise for the humidity, bugs, and snow that make the Midwest so charming. I am very excited to go, and am feeling very optimistic about the changes we are about to face. But in light of all these changes, I thought I'd make a little list to help make it easier to go (and because a girl can never have too many lists. I know, you get that I love lists. Tough.)

Things I will not miss when I leave California:

• May Gray (the annoying phenomenon that occurs every year in which the sun does not come out for the entire month of May - and can sometimes stretch into what the locals call "June Gloom." Yes, I know you don't feel sorry for me, but still. Gray is gray, no matter what else you get all year long).
• Having my kids bump the doors of the Bentley parked next to us at the grocery store (accidentally, of course) and then running like mad when the alarm goes off. (WHY spend that much money on a car? WHY? I just don't get it).
• House hunting for tiny shoe-box houses that cost a million dollars.
• Living in this rental condo.
• Having no yard in which to send the children out to.
• Govehnuh Ahnold on the t.v. commercials shouting exuberantly while flashing his big, toothy grin, "Welcome to Caleeeefohnya."
• Living within the jurisdiction of the Governor Terminator. Seriously.
• Hanging out with all the Spanish nannies at the park.
• The ridiculously high gas prices (we're about the highest in the nation on average, and I just grit my teeth every time I fill up my big, gas-guzzling SUV).
• The massive amount of money I spend on sunscreen (especially great given that the elementary school does not contain an indoor cafeteria. Something I never knew existed. The kids eat lunch outside. Every day. All year long.)
• Picking my husband up at the airport late Friday night with sleepy kids in the backseat.
• Dropping my husband off at the airport Sunday afternoon and counting the seconds until he's back again.

Things I will greatly miss here in Caleeeefohnya:

• The beach (did I mention that we live about three minutes from the ocean? Did I? Sigh.)
• All that lovely year-round sunshine (except for May and June obviously).
• Sea World and The Zoo. Seriously just the best.
• Cheap pedicures.
• All the friends we've made.
• Sbicca in Del Mar (one of my favorite restaurants here).
• Outdoor shopping malls. Yes, in which you can walk and shop outside all year long. Yet another thing I never knew existed until we moved here.
• Absolutely fantastic Mexican food.
• In-N-Out Burger.
• Fresh avocados at roadside farm stands (20 avocados for two bucks - I'm not kidding).
• The beach.
• Not shoveling snow all winter.
• Not even owning a single snow boot, mitten, or winter hat. (Because I gleefully threw them all out when we left Boston).
• Swimming in our outdoor pool in January. And loving it.
• The beach.
• The beach.
• Calling our landlord when something breaks and letting it be THEIR problem.
• Perfectly, gloriously, boring weather in which it is 75 every day and sunny (almost - curse that MAY GRAY).
• The palm trees. I just never got over them. They are so cool.

We have made some wonderful memories. It's been a fantastic year and we will truly miss it here. But, adventure calls us elsewhere. Thanks for a great year Caleeeefohnya. WE'LL BE BACK (at least to visit, for sure).

my great vocal talents

I was driving in the car with Hannah today. We were running some errands and she asked me to turn on some "nuusic," as she calls it (I totally love it that she still says some words wrong). I asked her what she wanted to listen to, and her request was "the Christine nuusic," (for those of you that don't speak Hannah fluently, it means the Phantom of the Opera). So I put the CD on for her. After a few minutes, I'm getting my Phantom groove on and I start singing along - fairly loud and enthusiastically, I might add.

She had been singing as well, but stopped suddenly and said, "You can just turn it off now. I don't like it when you sing."