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Letting Go...at Taekwondo

There comes a time in the natural course of parenthood when a mom or a dad realizes they have to let their little ones go. As parents, we all know it’s coming. And, yet, it doesn’t make that moment any less difficult or emotional.

For some, that moment comes when they send their little ones to day care or preschool for the first time. Many parents experience it every. single. time. their kids reach a new milestone like eating solid foods, potty training, or their first manicure. These parents will post a photo on Facebook and say something ridiculous like, “I can’t believe my little baby is already _________. It seems like only yesterday when _________.”

Then the rest of us roll our eyes and say to ourselves, “Ugh. I’m so sick of hearing about all these perfect parents with their perfect kids. I’m quitting Facebook.”

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The Procrastinator, the Pennies, & the Porcelain Throne

Somehow—probably when I was daydreaming of a moving fairy that would unpack the remaining 6,000 boxes at our house—the middle of January snuck up and bit me in the rear. I’m just not accustomed to living in a house surrounded by clutter for this length of time.

Correction: I’m not accustomed to living in a house surrounded by clutter that does not have a preordained resting place. 

I just didn’t want anyone to get the impression that I’m the type of person who has a pegboard in my garage with outlines of the tools that belong in each spot with the tools actually hanging in those spots. Sure, I’d totally have the pegboard with the outlines. Just not the tools in their place.

Because that’s the behavior of a crazy person.
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Breaking and Entering

There’s nothing quite like kicking off the New Year with an Internet search for illegal activity and bonding with the new neighbors in the process, amIright?

As I mentioned in my last post a thousand years ago, our family came down with a series of illnesses that stretched from the Sunday after Thanksgiving until Christmas.

Literally.

Brian and I both had two separate illnesses, and one of mine likely turned into a sinus infection that made my girls’ trip to New York in early December a bit less comfortable.

[Is she seriously complaining that her leisurely trip to New York wasn’t so perfect?]

Oh, it was awesome; don’t get me wrong. We shopped, we saw shows, and we ate like tourists. I just thought my eardrum might explode when we descended on the flight back home.

Let’s just say it all together now: First. World. Problems.

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Going Viral

“I realized somebody oughtta make an alarm clock that sounds like a baby barfing. ‘Cuz you know what? There IS no snoozing’.” —Bill Engvall

I generally give you a chance to finish your breakfast burrito before I throw a vomit quote out there all willy-nilly like that, but I figured this was the best way to kick off my post-Thanksgiving wrap-up.

Get it? Burrito. Wrap-up.

[Someone get this comedic genius her own TV show.]

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Bat out of Birmingham

These past few weeks here in our corporate apartment in Birmingham, Alabama have been challenging to say the least. Brian began his new routine at a regular, 8-5 job for the first time in our marriage. And please believe me, neither of us is complaining. Brian is home every night, and I’m pretty sure the greatest hazards facing him in this particular career field are paper cuts and carpal tunnel.

What has been most challenging for me is the period between 7:30 a.m. and 5:45 p.m. where I have two sets of eyeballs staring at me like I’m supposed to know how to entertain them all day every day.

Do I LOOK like Chuck E Cheese’s? 

Don’t answer that.

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Gender Reveal

Last Wednesday I had my first appointment with the doctor who will, Lord willing, deliver our 3rd child on (or hopefully very close to) March 30th. It’s currently November, and I hadn’t seen a doctor since August. Unless you count Dr. Doogie Howser who saw me in the ER after my flu shot. I didn’t talk much about him in my post, but I’m pretty sure he graduated from medical school approximately 15 minutes before he walked into the exam room.

And I know some of you type-A personalities would freak out if you had to wait 3 months for an ultrasound, but we had no choice. In three short months, we packed up our entire lives, left Kansas, semi-moved to my in-law’s place in Georgia, left the military, looked for a new job, found a new job, semi-moved into a corporate apartment in Alabama, found a house, and then found a doctor.

Basically, I’ve been sitting on my pregnant butt eating cheese dip and watching Judge Judy since August.
 
[She seems like the Judge Judy type. Also, the cheese dip type.]
 
I could seriously go for some cheese dip right now.

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Raising the Roof

Thanks in large part to your advice and encouragement last week, our home inspection on Monday went as well as we had hoped. There were some minor things that will require our further attention, but the great news is that (as far as we can tell) they were all minor things. Our inspector spent three hours with us and patiently talked us through everything we need to know as we prepare for future maintenance and repairs.

Raising the Roof

Bye bye furniture budget! 

Hello new roof in approximately 8-10 years!

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Smelling the Roses

Last week I shared our house hunting adventures in Birmingham, Alabama, but I failed to mention that we’re already here in a corporate apartment close to Brian’s new office. We “moved out” (most of our junk is still there) of my in-laws’ place at the lake in Georgia and decided to live on top of each other in a two bedroom apartment until we close on our house. And thanks to our very nice but very close quarters, I have a whole new appreciation for parents whose children share a bedroom. Seriously, how do y’all do that?

Bedtime around here resembles feeding time in the chimpanzee cage at the zoo. 

And I’m not talking about the cute, cuddly chimpanzees who will hug you and pick bugs out of your hair for you. Because those are some helpful, well-trained chimps. I’m talking about the crazy ones who plot against the zookeepers and help each other escape.

Bedtime is like a code red lockdown at the zoo. 

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The "Perfect" House

(Please read the previous post to get caught up on our house hunting adventures in Birmingham, Alabama!)

After we left The Pit Bull House, we saw only one more house that could rival it in utter disgust. I was sure I would never see anything as horrific as The Pit Bull House . . . until we arrived at the far more expensive (tippy-tippy-top of our price range) Ashtray House.

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