I work Mondays from 2:30-11 which is what made it especially difficult to figure out a way to get the dog out of the house when the realtor called to ask if they could show the house (the coveted SECOND showing) at 5:30. I called my neighbor, but she was going to be at soccer until after 6. I knew I couldn’t get home and back to work without taking more than 2 hours off, 2 hours I just don’t have right now.

I finally decided I would leave LM home when I went to work and his dad could pick him up when he got off work. LM could take the dog for a walk while the folks looked at the house.

Except that it started to rain.

I left for work at 1:30, with instructions for LM on leaving the house in perfect condition, taking his umbrella and the dog and sitting on our neighbor’s patio while the folks viewed the house.

I called to check on LM at 4:45, to make sure he was getting ready for people to be in the house. I called again at 5, when LM informs me the dog just puked in front of the couch. Luckily, I have previously taken the time to instruct Jacob on how to use the steam cleaner, so he was able to wheel it out and quickly scour the area.

I called again at 5:15, LM reported he was out on the patio, but it was raining pretty hard. He thought he might go across to the building across the lot and stand under the recessed roof. I thought that would be just fine, he could clearly see when people showed up and when they left so he could go back in.

I called back at 5:30. LM had decided to take the puppers to his fort in the woods, and sit under a tree. I said, “NO!! Go back to where you can see the house! How will you know when they leave?” LM agreed to go back and stand across the street, out of the rain.

I called back at 5:45, LM was on the patio of our neighbor. He said it wasn’t raining quite so hard any more. I asked if he had seen any realtors or people going in the house. He said no, and there weren’t any unusual cars out front.

I called back just after 6, LM told me our neighbor had come home from soccer and he was sitting just inside her door with the dog. He saw someone pull into the lot and go into our house. I was greatly relieved that he was inside out of the rain and that the people were finally here. I told him to call me back when they left.

I called LM’s dad and told him to call LM on his cell phone when he came to pick him up, as he might not be in our house, but might be at the neighbor’s. No problemo.

I called back at 6:35, LM’s dad had arrived and they were now all sitting in his car (even Eli) waiting for people to come out of the house. I thanked LM’s dad for his patience with this process (the poor man who doesn’t even want his son to move) and said to call when the folks left.

At 7:00, there was still no call. I called to verify that the folks were still in the house. LM’s dad tried to be optimistic, “maybe they are just working up their offer”. I said I hoped so, but it seemed like a long time they had been in, it’s not like we have a big house.

I called back at 7:20, still no sight of any people. At this point, I’m really feeling horrible that my ex husband is sitting outside my home while I’m two towns away at work, watching to see if buyers come out of my house so they can put the dog back in the house and they can finally go get some dinner.

I called at 7:40. Still no sight of people. I said, “this is absurd!” I asked LM if he was sure he saw people go inside. He said, “Yes! And their car is still sitting in the lot!” I said, you mean two cars, the realtor wouldn’t have arrive with the people in the same car. LM said, “No, they came in a green Jeep Liberty.” I said, “Put your dad on the phone.”

“They aren’t in the house,” I said to my ex. “What? LM saw them go in.” “No, my neighbor’s son drives a green Jeep Liberty. The realtor has long since been there and gone, I suspect.” I suggested they go up to the door and see if it was locked. If it was open, the realtor and buyers were still inside. If it’s locked, they’ve come and gone.

LM went up to the door.

It was locked.

At some point in the last TWO AND A HALF HOURS the nice buyers had come and gone and LM HAD TOTALLY MISSED IT.

Thank God my ex is a kind man and doesn’t own a gun.

(Good news? There’s an offer on the table today. Not one I particularly love, but there’s an offer!)

My camera took a lot of lousy photos this trip to MI. I’m not sure just why but some are really grainy!

Little Bird and George

Silly George

George was afraid of monsters in the dark. Apparently, a beauty mask helps ward off monsters! (All three kids build “nests” to sleep in when they are together. George was curled up in his little tent!)

The kids (and Eli!)

The Boys (LM and George) in the hammock

(My favorite pic from the trip!)

Solomon

Solomon

Water Fight!

HSM2 Gang (High School Musical 2- for those of you who aren’t related to any girls aged 5-15!)

The HSM2 Party!

Jules outdid herself with the theme, decor, menu and activities!

Bear even jumped in to show the girls how ACE “Dance, Dance Revolution!”

Day One: 11 hours in the car with child and dog (kennel was full) from PA to MI. Arrived in time for a late dinner and giggles with George and Bird.

Day Two: LM and I met my sister’s bff to look at an apartment. LM was utterly impressed that she manages 1500 apartments! Felt better knowing there’s a 2 bedroom apartment with our name on it should we need it anytime soon. Grabbed lunch for Jules, three kids and the babysitter and returned home to get ready for an interview. Interview seemed to go very well. The position really seems like something I would enjoy and could expand my career options with. Great benefits. Should hear back sometime this week. Returned home to change clothes, relieve the babysitter and play with the kids!!

Day Three: Hung out with the kids. We played games, we ate lunch, we ran around the yard, we chased after Eli as he chased after the cat. Friday evening the boys escaped to go play laser tag with Uncle Bear while we hosted a High School Musical 2 party for Bird and seven of her best friends. It was remarkably eye opening for this mother of an eleven year old boy, let me tell you!!

Day Four: up early to head back home; slight delay as there was some debate over whether George had seriously injured his ankle the night before or if he was just playing gimpy. Turns out (as verified by a trip to the ER by my sis) that it’s just severely sprained. Oh George. At least it’s not broken (again). Drove home and had LM picked up by his dad so they have as much time together as possible.

Tomorrow: would love to be napping, but will be at work instead.

While we were away: four showings with one more already scheduled for tomorrow. (And as far as I know, no news from Newly…)

(Pics and details to come. Tonight it’s just me, a glass of wine and a football game on the tele. I might not be awake past the first quarter, but the idea still sounds heavenly.)

Thank you for Mr. Clean Magic Erasers.

Love,
Amy

(I’ll write more when I get my head above water. House is on market. 1st Showing is tomorrow. Have an interview coming up. There will be a whirwind tour of Michigan in my near future. While I’m away cleaning…talk amongst yourselves. Need a topic? How about placing your bets on when Newly will deliver?!?)

to pick up the phone and make the hardest call I’ve had to make in years.

I called my ex and I told him that it was not a matter of if w were going to move anymore, it was when.

And when I hung up, I cried. For I cannot imagine what it would feel like to have someone take my son several states away.

I cannot imagine at all.

LM is on the phone with his best friend, W. It was the first person he wanted to talk to after he and I had our discussion tonight. The first and only person he wanted to tell. The person that makes this decision the hardest.

LM is explaining to W that we are going to move. That his mom has potentially two interviews in Michigan next week, but regardless of the outcome, the house is going on the market. The question is no longer IF we are going to move, but WHEN. I heard him explain to W that it could be as few as three weeks, it could be as much as four months.

They’re also talking about the time LM stayed the night at W’s house and they played superheroes, with W’s younger brother being “Captain Obvious”. They’re talking about next year, and all the things W needs to be on guard against in the new middle school (“the big kids, W, stay away from the big kids”). LM is also asking how well W and his favorite brother are getting along, and sharing his stories about counselling two brothers this summer in Pittsburgh (that were going through a divorce). LM is reminding W about the time he tried to go a whole day without speaking and how the reason it failed was because the girl W has a crush on came up and spoke to him, making him break his silence. LM is telling him about how this kid, A, the kid that was so mean to LM all year, asked him for his email address on the last day of school, explaining that he didn’t really HATE LM, and that they really did have some things in common (Star Wars). LM said, “He told me not to tell anyone, but that doesn’t include you.” I hear giggles, and teases, and stories pouring out of LM’s room. “If you want her to be your girlfriend, then she is your girlfriend. She might not know that, but it’s TRUE.” LM is reminding W that if he decided to tell Melissa that he likes her, “don’t do it around a ton of people”. They are remeniscing , they are sharing stories, they are talking like two eleven year old best friends who’ve known each other for thirty years.

I remember the friends I’ve left behind, and friends who have moved away from me over the years. I remember each and every one of them. I know where many of them are today, even if we don’t communicate regularly. And I have a few that I have grown closer to over the years.

I hope that LM and W have a great friendship for years to come. No matter where we live.

It’s difficult, when it’s just the two of us, to help LM buy gifts for me. We’ve tried a lot of different options, from asking a sales person to help him shop and to let me know when they are ready so I can just pay the bill (the result: a $93 bill in a candle store- the clerk didn’t think that was at all outrageous for an 8 year old to spend on his mom…); I’ve given LM money and waited in the parking lot of a Hallmark store while he shopped (better results, but unchaperoned gifts can be, well, interesting…).

LM returned home from his six week stay at grandparents with boxes and bags and duffles packed with odds and ends and what’s-its. But in and amongst everything was a little red box. Upon seeing it, he quickly seized it and set it on top of his bookshelves proclaiming it as “off limits!” to me. “It’s your birthday present,” he explained.

I’ll admit, I was tickled. He had bought something without me even knowing about it. With money he had earned working for his grandpa ($1/hr to answer phones and help with mailings!) I was really touched.

And so the red box has sat, untouched by me, until last night, when LM asked for wrapping paper and spent several minutes in his room making it “just perfect”. And then the gift was hidden away and I was given strict instructions to make sure I woke him this morning before I left for work so he could give me my gift.

Because today, my birthday, I was to be at work from 7:30am until 11pm. LM would be going to his dad’s mid-day, so we would only see each other for a few brief moments in the early morning hours before I headed off for my long day.

And so, at 6:30 this morning, I woke LM as I was ready to head out the door. He had slept on my floor again last night, tickled by the idea of “camping out in Mom’s room” once again – a rare treat – He rolled over and fumbled around with his blankets and pillow and I said, “don’t go back to sleep – you wanted me to open my gift, remember?”

“I know, I’m getting it for you.”

And he reached under his pillow and pulled out my beautifully hand-wrapped gift with a handmade bow that was just a little bit smushed from being slept on. A precious birthday gift that had spent the night under his pillow awaiting my birthday.

While I love the onyx cross necklace that he picked out just for me, I hope I never forget this morning and the precious moments we spent with a pillow-smooshed present and all the love that came out of it.

Totally.Rocks.

Maybe it’s because I give tours daily, or maybe it’s because I just took a First Aid class, or maybe it’s because I dreaded the obligatory birthday gathering my company does that I thought for sure they’d try to surprise me with today. I don’t know the cause, all I know is I haven’t had dreams this weird since I was preggers (and no, I’m definitely not. Thanks for being concerned anyway.)

Last night I dreamt that I was giving a tour to a man who was not quite all there. He was mentally handicapped to some degree, but I was giving him a tour around the basement of some house. There were pool tables and general clutter, but I was telling him all about it nontheless. I was interrupted by my sister, who said we had to go. I knew she meant we had to go to the birthday thing, but I didn’t want to go. I reluctantly followed her, abandoning the tour guy and we found ourselves walking through a very long and very crowded hotel lobby. I knew we were headed for one of the banquet rooms at the end of the hall (even though the birthday thing is a really small and quick affair). Along the way, my sister was throwing little yellow cubes at Little Bird and LM. They had been doing something bad, apparently and this was how she decided to get them to stop. I yelled at her to knock it off. I was soooo upset that she was THROWING things at the kids. Jules said, “I didn’t hurt them. I didn’t even hit them.” And I started screaming at her, “Yes you did! Look! Here’s a DENT in LB’s head!!” I was so angry with her, but she just kept on walking towards the banquet room. I decided right then and there that I wasn’t going. I knew it was for my own birthday and I knew I would take a lot of grief for it later, but I just decided I didn’t care, I wasn’t going.

As I walked back the way we came, I saw my old boss (from two jobs ago). He and I started talking as we stood on either side of this strange machine. The machine was about the size of a typewriter but was a square wooden box of sorts with a conveyor belt running along the side of the top. My old boss was telling me that I should go to this birthday thing. I kept trying to interrupt, to tell him what my sister had done, but he kept saying, “It doesn’t matter. You still need to go.” I was getting so upset that he wouldn’t even listen to me, and didn’t CARE how irrational my sister had been (apparently, in my dream in all,) but just then, his arm got caught in the conveyor and the machine started to pull him in. His body shrunk to about a quarter of the size that it would normally be as he was pulled into the machine. I immediately yelled, “HELP! Someone help us! Call 911!” and grabbed onto the conveyor to keep it from pulling him in any further. All that was left, sticking out, were his legs, which were strangely small and seemed soft and pliable, dangling in an unnatural position. I saw down by the edge of the conveyor belt his little hand sticking out, so I held onto it and kept saying, “You’ll be all right,” even though I knew there was no way he could be sucked into that small of a space and come out all right.

I found a switch on the side of the machine and turned it off and then immediately started unscrewing these tiny little screws on the sides (I was picking up the machine and turning it all around while I unscrewed them…it was very light for holding a grown man inside). As I got a section unscrewed, I would lift off a layer of the machine which revealed a small amount more of the squished boss, and several more layers of machine. I kept unscrewing and pulling away layers only to realize that when I got to the last layer, it was only about an inch thick and surely, no brain could survive being smooshed that small and flat…

And that’s when I woke up.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. But it makes me just slightly uneasy that later in the day a 3 1/2 year old boy broke his arm at the Y and we had to call his grandmother and paramedics.

“The egg is in the basket”

(LM is home.)

:o)