For Rob

Today's best things about being a mom:

• Successfully test-driving the homemade sidewalk paint recipe. (It was a bit runny. Next time I think I'll try a 2 to 1 corn starch to water ratio.)
• Taking Soph and A out to the new very delish Chinese restaurant in town. I think they set the record for the most sweet and sour chicken devoured by 4 year olds in one sitting.
• Watching a Wonder Woman episode with them, and making plans to fashion tin foil wrist bands next Wednesday. (We were, of course, out of tinfoil today.)
• Listening to Soph and A plan to blame the skewer in the fish tank on their imaginary friends.

Today's worst things about being a mom:

• Finding Soph, A, and B all the way around the block this morning, and as a result sending B home in tears, and giving Soph and A a 30 minute time out, as we were tending A and she could not be sent home.
• Sending B home in tears, again, when she came back 15 minutes later and I told her she still couldn't play.
• Sending B home in tears, again, 30 minutes ago when she, her brother, and her brother's friend came over and Soph just simply didn't want to play.

You see, B's mom is working graveyards this summer, and is sleeping during the day. And tell you what-- I'll be damned and double damned if I am going to entertain, feed, and otherwise care for her 3 oldest kids during the 2 weeks before I move. Had she asked me to, that would be one thing, but she hasn't. She just tells the kids she needs to sleep, and not to bug her, and they come to me.

So let it be written; so let it be done.

Well--we've decided on our middle house.

Erik's grandparents have a beautiful "luxury townhome" that they've wanted to sell us ever since they learned that we were selling our house. I didn't want to buy it for many reasons--number one being that although it has a very nice sized patio, it has no yard. Also, there is the issue of the one shared wall. But, after much searching--both in my heart and with a realtor, I've come around to it. And like I said, chances are, it will be our middle house. We'll catch our breath from the chaos of the last few years for a bit, then move on to the official long-term Jorgensen abode.

Ultimately, my decision was based on the following:
Price: They're selling it to us at a price significantly under market. We'll have tons of instant equity.
Ease: We can move in whenever we want (aka, in 2 weeks), and live rent free until our financing stuff is sorted out.
Stuff: Speaking of stuff....Did I mention that they're leaving a gorgeous brand new dining room set and bedroom set?
Quality: This place is built so, so well. I've had a builder friend of mine checking out some of the houses to be considered, and he was blown away by this one. It is solid as a rock, and brand new (well, lived in one day a week for the past year by a 70 year old man), and the cabinets, appliances, and finish work are amazing. We're talking granite counter tops, porcelain tubs, etc., etc.

Sound like I'm trying to convince myself of something? I am, a little.

Jimmy dog is a concern. Although he is an inside dog, he is used to a yard. I'm worried that in no time, the patio will smell like dog piss and shit, no matter how vigilant I am with clean up. I'm also worried about him barking and pissing off the (mostly rich and old) neighbors.

Also, even with lots of shared lawn in the development and gorgeous parks in walking distance, part of me feels like I'll be depriving Sophie of her childhood by not providing her with a swing set and grass to run on.

I'm tired of running laps in my brain over it though, and am feeling reasonably ok with my decision.

It's the first official day of summer vacation. I had hoped to pawn Soph off on someone and start getting ready to move, but instead, I have 6 kids on the premesis--5 of whom are not mine. B came by, with BOTH brothers, and then Soph's friend's mom called with some violent stomach bug and asked me to take her 2 girls. I went and bought some of that Crayola sidewalk paint, though, and they're all pretty busy painting the back patio. I've managed to accomplish a bit, and hopefully now have a couple of favors to call in when it gets closer to moving day.

p.s. I'm dispensing with the best and worst thing about being a mom. We've both kind of grown out of it.

p.s.s. Any advice anyone could give on big dogs in small spaces and/or making the most of a patio is officially solicited.

10 Random Facts

1. We have to be out of our house in 22 days.
2. We have yet to find a house we both love.
3. Yesterday was Sophie's last day of pre-school.
4. I have more split-ends than regular ends.
5. Today is the last day of school for me.
6. We looked at a house yesterday that smelled like hot dogs and pee. (I wonder if Wal-Mart can sue them for infringement on their signature smell.)
7. Yesterday we had some friends drop by, and the cupboards were so bare that all I could offer them for food and drink was a piece of cheese and a straight shot of gin. They declined.
8. I love the new purse that Mand and I bought in Flagstaff. It's certainly an upgrade from the five year old one I had been dragging around, and which probably also smelled like hot dogs and pee.
9. I may have to run home and poop later, as I cannot poop anywhere but at home, and I was in too much of a rush to go this morning.
10. Yesterday for graduation I put my hair in hot rollers, and ended up with the kind of big-bodied curls that are usually reserved for rodeo queens and porn stars.

Of Note

1. We sold the house.

2. Sophie colored with red marker between the legs of her Barbies because, "They're having their periods mom!"

Another one with this and that

13 days of school left, but who's counting?

And now I sit, trying to decide what to write.

Well--Mandy and I are meeting for our second Mother's Day retreat in Flagstaff this weekend. We missed last year because she was busy or Clark was busy or something, but this year we are locked and loaded. For some reason I'm a little more worried about the drive than I was last time. There's just an awful lot of nothin' between here and there. I'm sure all will be well, though, and am looking forward to cocktails and fondue and backgammon and catching up.

The house still hasn't sold. Now that we're officially into spring and I've had the chance to pull some back-yard patio time, suddenly I'm not as anxious. I haven't changed my mind yet, but easing back into the lounger with a beverage and a book while Soph does her thing with the sidewalk chalk or whatever definitely isn't a bad thing. There will be a new back-yard, to be sure, but mine is pretty hard to beat. This is the one I have my eye on. I know the outside is kind of butt-ugly, but the size, floor plan, location, and yard are pretty much exactly what I'm looking for. Now I just need to hope that it doesn't sell before I can make an offer on it.

Soph is happy and healthy and sassy and silly. I experimented with letting her take her bike around the block with Bianca, but they ended up across the street at the school playground, so obviously she's not quite ready for that kind of responsibility. They've been talking about nutrition in school and she now refuses to eat chicken-nuggets or uncrustable sandwiches. Because I am the worst mother in the land, this is a kind of a problem because these have been the staple of her diet. (Do PB&Js freeze well? Could I make her a bunch on "bread with whole grains" which is all she'll eat, and freeze them so that in the morning I'm not fucking around with making sandwiches and being late to work?) In fact, several times a day I try to feed her something and she says, "Mom--There's not very much nutrition in this!" Of course, ATS (according to Soph) ice cream is nutritious because it has milk, and Nerds are nutritious because they have fruit.

Me? I'm fat and in desparate need of a hair cut. Apparently, I'm also growing a beard, and for some reason, am having a gnarly bout of backne. But despite all that, I'm reasonably happy. The sun is shining, and that's a good thing. (Want to know a secret? I LOVE riding Soph's razor scooter. Lately, we ride over to the park on it together, and while she playes on the slide, I cruise around the blacktop on it. Fun stuff.) School is wrapping up, and I'm dragging a couple of seniors toward the finish.

I'm still digging the Netflix and have worked my way through Angel season 3. We've seen a couple of gems (The Secret of Rowan Innish, Smoke Signals) and it's been useful for my film class. I don't know WHY, however, the Netflix gods are desparate for me to watch Victor Victoria. Every damn time I click for recommendations or even just to log in, there's old Julie Andrews pretending to be a man pretending to be a woman. WTF?