We've Been Rolled. . . By One of Our Own!

Last Sunday, I laid down to take a nap just as Phil was going up to work in his new playroom above the garage and just as Wilson was waking up from his nap. I vaguely remember Wilson coming in an out of our room telling me something about train tracks. I assumed that he was dissassembling his train table tracks in his room and bringing them downstairs. When Phil came back in the house about an hour later, Wilson was standing at the back door beaming. "Dad, look at my train tracks I built!" "Wilson, did you ask mom if you could do this?" "Uh-huh!"

He had found several left over rolls of crepe paper in his craft bin- the video tells "the rest of the story"!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Wilson & Mamma working on our first culinary creation in the new kitchen on Thanksgiving morning- in our jammies, of course. (Thanks for thinking to take pics, Dad)

On a side note

I want to apologize for the following two posts being lengthy and without pictures (and now that I'm going back over this one, that it turned out equally as long). I know I get bored easily with a lot of reading and can do without blogs that are a lot of blahhbady, blah, blah, blah and no visual aid to help guide you through. In my mind I have great pictures to accompany much of the Goodbye 215 post, but just can't find some of them and quite frankly, don't have the time yet to put together a montage. I really just wanted to be sure that I captured what's been going through my head the over the past couple of weeks and months and a sort of stream of conscience conversation Phil and I had as we walked through our old house the last day we owned it. It is so hard to believe how much can transpire over 5 short years. I also want to apologize for the negative tone of the Hello 701. We are making progress with almost every box being unpacked and cans of paint waiting to be spread in each bedroom. However, I really wanted to have some of the down moments that we've experienced in writing, because I know, in 30 years or so, we might be moving from here and the memories will be 6 fold or more. Then, when I'm crying my way through not only baby memories, but elementary, high school, and college ones, too and looking around at all the hard work we've put in, I'll be able to have something to pull up to remind me I didn't always love here. But I have a feeling, it will be of no consequence. This will become home and will hold the majority of my family's life and times. As unsure as we are some days, I know one day I'll wonder what we were so scared of and frustrated over. I might even laugh about it all!

*Note to self in 2037 or upon moving day from 701, whichever comes first: click here (assuming we're still using these things called computers and are surfing the internet!)

I also want to take a minute to thank all of our family and friends who have moved boxes, loaned trucks, cleaned things, cooked things, unpacked things, and helped keep Wilson busy so that he hasn't even skipped a beat (or been dragged down by a mamma who's more that skipped a beat- there have been times that my whole record's been scratched!) We absolutely could not have gotten this far without you and you are what is making our house a home already.

Mostly, I want to thank my sweet husband for his tireless work around here. I, of course, am more easily tired out and emmotional these days. It has been tough for me to let go of the reigns and let everyone work for me, and he has had to pick up most of the pieces of that frustration. He's looked for projects to do, asked what I want done most right now, done his very best to make it happen, then come back and asked for more instructions. He's tried to think up things that he can do to make it feel more like home for me. He's also kept an eye on Wilson while I've rested and entrusted those 3 year old hands with some of his most prized posessions- his childhood cars and trucks. I know he's worn out as well, but keeps going (I also know it's been hard for him to let go of the reigns on how you're "supposed" to play with a lot of those cars and trucks, but he's done it anyway.) Wilson thanks you too, Daddy.

Hello 701

Well, here we are. Smells kind of funny and who put all these boxes in here- oh yeah, us.

Come on Jack, you have to come in- don't be scared!

Wow, we've got a LOT of work to do. No, I mean A LOT of work to do. What were we thinking!?

Well, Phil's started with the kitchen, pulling down one strip of wallpaper every time he walks through, commenting "there, that's a little better" each time.

If I flip the wrong switch when I walk into a room one more time . . . and what is the deal with all these switches that do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!

Yea- all the boxes in Wilson's room are empty.

Of course the washing machine isn't going to connect- why would it?

Of course the refrigerator won't connect to the water line- why would it?

Of course there's blue water leaking out of the bottom of the upstairs bathroom- why would it have been fixed like the previous owner said it would?

Wilson finally gets to open the "white box" contents unknown to him- he had to wait until we got to the new house. Once open, the Holy Grail. All of Daddy's hot wheels, hot wheels play sets, Micro Machines, and Micro Machine play sets doled out over a two or three day period. I don't think he left the rug in the playroom for 3 days straight.

Thank God for mammas who'll come and put shelf paper on all the shelves of your kitchen cabinets and pantry and unpack all the kitchen boxes.

Yea- all the boxes in the kitchen and master bedroom are empty.

Why won't any of the doors that go into the back yard just OPEN!

Yea- all the boxes in the den and dining room are empty.

Thank God for visits from old friends who'll comment on how great your new house is and how great it's going to be.

Thank God for visits from new neighbors who are super friendly and even baked cookies in addition to banana bread when they saw you had a child and that make you feel welcome and that you made a good choise in a neighborhood.

Thank God for the first night we all spent the night together in our new house:

"Goodnight, Wilson."
"Know what, Dad?"
"What?"
"I love my new house!"

Thank God the washing machine is finally hooked up and we can do laundry at our own house whenever we want to.

Thank God the refrigerator is hooked up and ice is making.

Thank God Jack has started growling at Wilson again. Not that we won't him growling, but at least he's decided this is territory worth fighting over.

Thank God the plumber is coming Monday morning to fix the toilet- and maybe he can figure out why there's a stream of water running from under the refrigerator.

Goodbye 215

What do you mean we can't close on the new house for 2 more months. How can I possibly sit here for that long knowing how much needs to be done at the new house? How can I keep cleaning and going about life as usual with that hanging over my head.

Okay, I guess I'll pack a few boxes. Then we'll have Wilson's birthday party. Maybe by then it will be about time to leave.

Wow- it's November already. I've really got to pack more everyday if I'm ever going to get it all done.

Packing is such a pain. I've tackled the majority of everything in each room, but each time I walk through I see "one more thing" that I've forgotten and all those one things are really adding up. I just can't seem to wrap my head around the fact that EVERYTHING has to go.

Order the pizza, pick up the drinks, call our closest friends. We've closed on the houses. The movers are coming in the morning and we need to take over a few loads tonight to get a head start.

Wow- these guys are fast. All the furniture and boxes are on the truck and the dust bunnies are really starting to fly. As long as I keep sweeping them up I can't think about how the emptier the house gets, the fuller of memories it seems to be.

We've been at this for almost 12 hours now. It's time to make the last trip over- really this time. I'll check the closets one more time- I know good and well that they are good and empty, but it's an good excuse to go back in each room one more time. There's nothing left to see, but you can still sort of smell the memories. Wilson's closet smells like Christmas- that's where all our decorations used to be, the nursery has a sweet smell- I guess leftover from diapers, baby detergent, and just the sense of anticipation.

Walking through the house one more time, I can remember the first time we set foot inside and deciding this would be the one we'd make an offer on . . . closing on the house and not really believing it was ours . . . A few days later, bringing home our first puppy. Sitting on the floor to watch TV because we had no where to put it, sleeping on mattresses on the floor because we didn't have a bed yet . . . filling puppy toys with peanut butter to keep Jack out of the adhesive as we installed wood floors . . . there's the spot in the kitchen that Phil learned even unloaded, a nail gun can blow a hole straight through tile . . . Phil walking in with a bottle of bubbles from the grocery- "wonder what Jack'll think of these?" . . . I think Jack's lonely, we should get him a friend . . . Jack LOVES his new playmate Tate and drags him around the house on his blanket so his baby friend can keep up with him . . . Phil's first "real" Christmas tree . . . building a bungalow for our dogs (to teethe on) . . ."does this look like two pink lines to you?" . . . sleeping in on Saturday mornings for the last few times and waking up to watch Trading Spaces . . . sitting in the rocker in a nursery yet to be used, listening to lullabies, wondering what this new creature would be like. . . bringing home Wilson from the hospital . . . watching Jack and Tate trying to figure him out by sticking their snouts through the cracks in the cradle and taking in a few good sniffs . . . Baby Wilson memories come flooding in by the thousands, almost too many to process . . . first bathes in a little blue tub . . . "look up at the ducky in the picture so I can get your back teeth" . . . a little grinning face peering over the edge of the crib the first time he learned to stand up . . . getting lost in thought for hours in the sand box, getting lost in thought for a year and a half with cars . . . the morning of his 2nd birthday when he woke up to find his train table all set up in his room. . . potty training . . . moving to his big boy room . . . the sound of a Cozy Coupe racing through the den . . . "Wilson, I think we're going to have a new baby- want to go tell Dad?". . . better check the back yard one more time- the tree has lost all its leaves in one day (today) as usual- almost wish we could rake them up and jump in one more time . . . goodbye swing set- wonder how long it will take before Wilson realizes that you're not coming with us . . . goodbye dog, boy, daddy chases . . . goodbye kitchen- burned suppers, birthday cakes, snacks at the bar, playing in cool whip in the high chair . . . goodbye room- loving, laughing, fighting, comforting, dreaming . . .

Time to turn the lights off one more time, lock our last key in, close the garage, back down the driveway. Goodbye 215.


Crap, I forgot to get our shampoo out of the shower. Who wants to go to Walmart!?

Everything Dear to Me is Packed in a Liquor Box

That sort of sums things up. The move is looking more and more official around here. We're down to ketchup and milk only in the fridge, a few can of veggies in the pantry and our dust bunnies to keep us company around the house. That is until you get to Wilson's room. I still haven't braved packing his things. This morning he noticed that I had packed all the den toys. We both had a bit of a melt down as I tried once again to explain that in a few days this house won't be our house anymore so we have to pack all our things so they'll be with us at the new house. We're reading The Bernstain Bears Moving Day to help with the transition. "The bears didn't always live in their tree house down sunny dirt road . . ." It actually fits our situation quite nicely because, little known fact, the Bear family had to do a bit of fixing up around the tree house before it was just perfect. Their new house also has an upstairs & a downstairs, like our new house, which is of much greater interest to Wilson. His only comment on the "fixing up" is that our new house is stinky. I've assured him we're having it cleaned and then we'll paint and that should take care of it smelling different from our current home. We'll see. I still get choked up every time we get to the page when they've put the last box onto the truck and they are looking into their empty cave. I'm not looking forward to taking that last look into our empty cave- we've had a great time in this house. But, it is time to move on and put some love into a new one. Please pray for us as we complete this process. Oh, and send some potpourri.