We're In

We moved to the new house (that's "moo-moo" if you're Henry) last Monday and we're still trying to get rooms set up. I thought we lived pretty simply, and in fact we gave away lots of items prior to moving (including large items like a treadmill and a kitchen table) but we still have crap everywhere. I'm really feeling the urge to purge (naturally after we paid to have everything moved). For now, though, we're in survival mode, just trying to get things put away in the right general area.

We've discovered lots of fun things about the new place, too, like the fact that both toilets leak and need to be replaced. It's probably just as well since they're both really old and most likely use lots of water. But it's one more expense on top of others that we can barely afford after moving to a much pricier end of town.

The good news is that I am loving our new neighborhood. Although I'm currently listening to the wind howl in the chimney and waiting for the blizzard that's supposed to hit tonight, on Wednesday Henry and I took a huge walk in near-springtime weather. It was so great to see all the nice, normal, friendly people out, and walking down streets filled with gorgeous old half-million dollar homes wasn't bad, either. (For the record, our home is on the modest end of town.)

On Thursday Henry and I went to the library and there were lots of parents there with their kids for storytime. Henry had a blast flirting with another little girl, sitting at the kid-sized tables and trying to carry around a crate filled with board books.

There's no way to say this without sounding like a snob, but this area is filled with nice people. Educated people. Well-dressed people. People who enjoy their children. People who care about the environment. People who don't see Iraq as being linked to 9-11. People who introduce themselves to the new neighbors.

And really, that's all I ever wanted.

The Art of Conversation

Tonight, while nursing in bed:

Nurse, nurse, pull off.
Henry: Daw.
Me: Yes, you like to draw.
Nurse, nurse, pull off.
Henry: Puh-poe.
Me: You draw with the purple crayon sometimes, don't you?
Nurse, nurse, pull off.
Henry: Wah-woe.
Me: Yes, yellow. The yellow crayon.
Nurse, nurse, pull off.
Henry: Boo.
Me: The blue crayon is good too.
Nurse to sleep.

Word(s) to the Wise

Henry now says the names of his (half-)siblings: Hoose (Harrison), Sha-sha (Simon) and NAH-nee (Maddy).

He also says "shoes" backwards; it comes out "oosh."

Tattoo is "doo-doo."

And after Daddy bonked his head on the shelf above the changing table tonight, Henry practiced his new word "fuh" many, many times.

Goodbye, House

The couple who are buying our house had the home inspection a few weeks ago and the place passed with flying colors.

It is in pretty great shape, but there are always things about a house one could find fault with. I was thinking about how the new owners won't discover those things until they move in. Things like:

• The low-flow water-saving toilet in the upstairs bathroom that requires two flushes to get everything down.
• The lovely pedestal sink in the same bathroom that allows water to pool behind the faucet, eventually leaving orange-colored stains.
• The kitchen curtains I thought I accurately measured but somehow hemmed wrong (we kept these open during all showings).
• The spacious master bedroom that seems to get zero heat in winter and zero cooling in summer (to the point that we needed a window unit even though we have central air).
• The racetrack over a mile away that can be heard buzzing all summer long, even with the windows closed.
• The front yard filled with clover, which I find nice but most people probably would not.
• The bathtub drain that's constantly getting clogged, despite numerous dousings of nasty evil chemicals (though maybe we just have particularly hairy teenagers).

Still, we left the place much, much better than we found it: new roof, new central air, new furnace, new light fixtures and ceiling fans, new carpeting upstairs and newly refinished wood floors down, new window treatments, and all new paint inside.

And despite its minor flaws, I am really going to miss this place.


The dining room where Henry was born. My husband moved the table out of the way and dragged a mattress in from my stepdaughter's room. The apprentice midwife/doula kept bonking her head on the light fixture (which looks original to the home but which I scored for $70 at the local hardware store).


The sunroom where I kept my grandfather's desk, the old rocker I found and had reupholstered, and the antique side table my parents gave me. (And where we displayed our
Christmas tree!)



The kitchen organized just so (including spice racks!) with an incredibly useful built-in butcher block counter. (And see? You can't even tell the curtains are uneven when they're open.)




The play area where I (and my husband and stepkids) have spent countless hours hanging out with Henry. It's such a cozy space -- beanbag chair, bookcase, boxes of toys stored against the wall under the eaves.


The computer area with the built-in desk, where we all spent way, way too much time.


Henry's room, where he never slept but where we've changed countless diapers and done all our bedtime routines.


We close on both houses on Thursday, and officially move to the new place on Monday.

So long, old house. You've been very good to us.