YKCIM

Last night I got to read to Michaela.  This hasn't happened for a long time.  She is such a proficient and avid reader that my reading to her became seemingly unnecessary.  But the truth is, she still loves for me to spend that time with her just before she goes to sleep.  I often think of her as so very old, when the fact is she is just 10.  Next to Eliana, yes, that is a very big girl.  But in reality, she is still my baby girl.  And she still needs so much from me, even though she is quite independent. 

I read to her from The Secret Garden, which we started ages ago.  She was happy to pick up where we left off, which is close to the end.  I finished the chapter, and tucked her in, turned off the light and pushed her bangs back.  I could see that she was thinking about something in a serious manner, and I asked her if there was something she wanted to talk about.  She immediately began crying and said,"It's the other house.  I wish we were still there."

Our decision to move was so sudden, the kids didn't really have time to take it in before we were Pop! living in a new house.  I knew that they weren't very happy about the move, as they made their opinions quite known before we left for our Christmas trip to Florida.  It's hard to miss the meaning of,"I DON'T WANT TO MOVE!", even when you are a ding-dong like me.  So, it didn't surprise me that she was still upset, and still emotional about it.  I sat on her bed and patted her leg and told her it was okay to cry and miss the other house.  I think that's true.  It's not going to help her for me to say,"Well, get over it honey!  We're here now and this house is the one you need to think of as home!"  I can't even do that, yet.  It's also hard to imagine it as our home because we knew the people who lived here.  We can still picture their things around the house (in fact, we bought one of their sofas, and it's in the same place that it was when they lived here, in the living room) (I need to buy a new throw for it to make it more ours), and I think the house still smells like it did when they lived here.  Just like when I walk into our old house (the kids call it the new old house, since we have two "old houses" here) it smells like that warm, old wood smell that reminds me of my Grandma's...that smell had become the smell of home for me. 

I stayed with her for a bit, and asked her questions, listening to her quiet voice share about what she was trying to process.  We talked about memories that we have from that home.  The more I thought about it the more it came to me why leaving was so significant and sad for her.  When we moved into that house she was eight.  Eight is old enough to remember things vividly.  It was the first time she was getting her own room.  My mom and dad came to town to help us move and Mom and I went around shopping, getting new things for the house and Michaela's room one day (literally, one entire day...it was so much fun) (Mike was worried after we didn't come home at dinnertime) (not necessarily about us, but about the state of our credit cards).  We also took Michaela out with us and let her in on the fun of picking out things for her new space, like a shower curtain and some curtains for her windows.  Later in the year Michaela and I found a print to hang up, a pretty flower picture which went beautifully with her orange and pink themed room.  She had all the furniture that she wanted in there, furniture that she loved and had become sentimentally attached to...it was hers after all.  This was her room.  It became a place she could escape to when Anyone Annoying got to be too much.  She played, read, crafted, messed and cleaned it up (sometimes).  Her very own space.

Not too long ago (January 27th) I was in the house trying to pack up some more stuff and clean up some of the major dustballs and gross things that accumulate under and behind your furniture over the years.  I walked through the rooms, letting the tears flow myself.  It sounds ridiculous, I know, considering the fairly huge amount of complaining I have done about that place.  And for sure, it has its problems, from faulty wiring to plumbing issues.  But we made a lot of memories there. 

When we first moved in, Eliana was 18 months old.  The fire station is just a couple of blocks up the street from where we were, and every time a fire engine or ambulance went racing by, sirens screaming, she would run to one of the front windows and call out,"Fire engine!"  Every.  Single.  Time.  It was precious.

The summer after we moved in some of our friends came to stay with us for a few days.  Two of my mom friends and their six kids (three in each family)...it was so much fun.  We lived and breathed good friends and food and pool time.  We squeezed in baseball games and movies and some special performances.  Also eating brownies, breaking glasses, and killing roaches. 

Let's not think about the roaches, eh?

My parents visited several times, from when we moved in, to my mom's solo trip to help unpack some more, to the Christmas after their Very Bad Accident.  Those visits are full of eating cake, opening presents (whether for someone's birthday or for Christmas...or both, back to back!), ringing in the new year, unpacking, fixing things up, putting furniture together with the kids, and so much more.

We were crazy enough to have Christian's first grade class over for his birthday.  On a Friday.  And I made a silly cake.  (Not as silly as this one.)

The kids have their own memories...one that Michaela mentioned to me is a time when Mike came into her bedroom to make sure she was tucked in and sleeping.  She was asleep, but her light was still on.  He turned out the light and as he did she held up her hand in the "I love you" sign, but she didn't remember doing it, because she was sleeping.  I chuckled and said,"So, one of your best memories of the house is something that you don't even remember."  She smiled at that and nodded her head affirming this assessment.

So, back to walking around the house...I went all through the downstairs, from one side to the other, and then back across following the long hallway that goes from the TV room all the way to the kitchen.  I looped around through the dining room and then went upstairs.  I walked around Christian's room, in his closet, and then to the front of the house to the room that was originally going to be Eliana's room.  We ended up using it as a school room/office for the last few months that we lived there. 

I finally made it to Michaela's room.  I opened her closet door, looked at the clothes still hanging there and at the shelves that lined each side.  I shut that door and then peeked in her bathroom.  The shower curtain valance was still there, that my mom made, as well as old bottles of shampoo and conditioner.  They never got used because we learned shortly after we moved in that her shower leaked into the downstairs playroom.  Her shower was pretty much abandoned after that...we never got around to replacing the shower head to see if that changed anything.  I turned from her bathroom and went over to one of her windows. 

I kind of lost it.  She had staked her claim.  With Wikki Stix.  I had never noticed it before, but I'm glad I did.  This was her room.  Micky's room.  And I think that it will be forever.

Hearts

I Heart Faces is focusing on hearts this week.  I had some fun ideas, but alas, I ran out of time to execute them.  I am posting this picture of sweet Michaela, who will do whatever crazy thing I ask her to do.  I want to honor her effort, patience, and sweet nature. 

There are some really fun, cute, and amazing pictures this week.  I looked at a bunch of them yesterday and am blown away by some people's creativity!  For a lot of hearty pictures, head over to I Heart Faces.

Peace and Quiet

Some days are so hard.  There are dishes piled up.  There is laundry piled up.  There are unpacked boxes.  There are dirty bathrooms.  There is coughing.  There is snot.  There is fighting.  There are slamming doors.  There are tears.  There is more snot.

But, it seems like there is a reprieve just when you think someone is headed out the window (most likely yourself, just for the silence on the way down).  Around here the respite almost always comes from a very particular substance, in various forms.

Today, beautiful chocolate made its appearance in the way of ganache.

It is the best frosting for cakes.  You can use it to make chocolate milk.  You can eat it straight off of a spoon (and I recommend that you do).

Or you can dip your animal crackers in it.

This peaceful and happy moment brought to you by whipping cream and Ghirardelli.  A truly winning combination.

Snow Day? Try Week.

This has been a strange week. 

I think it's funny how people around here (Dallas) are surprised each year when there is one good snowstorm or bout of bad winter weather.  It happens every year (at least since I've lived here).  It seems like at least once each winter, even in Dallas, TX, we can count on snow and ice.  We have been holed up in the house for four days now. 

That's a lot of non-stop Walkers. 

I should say that Mike managed to take the girls to the paint store...I can't even remember which day it was, they are all a blur.  He also went to the store yesterday, and brought home Sonic.  But the streets were still pretty bad, as evidenced by the guy who went sliding backwards past Mike as Mike chiseled the van out of its ice blockade.  We watched through the front window as the dude slowly slipped down the hill (our road) towards the other street. 

It made me a little nervous that my husband was about to attempt the same feat. Not nervous enough, though, that once he was out I didn't call to ask him to bring home a fast-food dinner delight.  We were deprived of it the other day, you see.

The comedic thing about it is that he went out in a minivan, wonder of cars on the road, and the van seemed to handle the ice all right, however all of the manly trucks on the road were slipping and borderline out of control.  The trucks were missing four-wheel drive, which as I understand it, is quite helpful when out on icy, snowy roads.

I'm rambling.  Since my children have been stuck inside for so much of the past 96 hours (Seriously?  That is a long time.) it was mandatory for me to take them out to play today.  Even though it was bone-chillingly, numbingly cold and wet out there.  Across the main street that we live off of (our house is the second from the corner) is a library, and just behind the library is a school.  In between the two is a large hill. 

I got the kids and myself ready (in less than three hours!) and then we tramped over to the hill with a couple of lids off of some plastic bins. 

We watched as many people sledded down the hill on actual sleds (Where do you get sleds around here?!) and real snow discs and saucers.  Michaela and Christian tried to use the lids,

but as soon as they plopped down in the snow they sank; it was so soft.  Michaela tried very hard to make her lid go, but each time she just ended up making a little snowbank. 

So, we didn't get very far down the hill (read: not at all), but we packed some snow very well in about six or ten places. 

They had a half-hearted snowball fight and then Christian got some in the face, the end.

I think we were out there for about ten minutes, so it was totally worth the two and a half hours that we spent getting six layers on.  We stripped the snowy clothes off when we got in the door and I started a load of laundry and then we had hot chocolate and popcorn.

I wish I could say it was a lovely, cheery, cocoa-filled game day, but...they fought a lot.  There were definitely some nice peaceful moments, but I believe the all-day-all-night togetherness is taking a toll.  Let's pretend that these idyllic looking moments lasted much longer than they really did, shall we?

How can my daughters stand their hair like that in their faces?!  It's like Jennifer Aniston is their mom.  It drives me crazy to have my hair hanging in my face.

In spite of the crazy weather I rocked dinner.  I made a meatload, baked potatoes, and broccoli.  Do you see that I wrote "meatload"?  That is making me laugh a lot, so I am going to leave it.  And besides, I actually made two meatloafs and both were hearty, so it's an accurate assessment.  This may have been one of the best meatloafs (or two) that I have ever made.  I make up the recipe every time, so you can imagine that the results are neither predictable nor stable.  This time it turned out very well.  I cooked it a tad too long, so it could have been more moist, but that is nothing that a bit of ketchup can't fix!  The down side to the situation is that even though these meatloafs were tasty, I will probably never be able to replicate the same flavor.  These are the risks I take. 

Speaking of things that are unpredictable, I do not know what tomorrow will bring.  Hopefully we will be more cheerful.  The snow is pretty and we have enjoyed it, but we are looking forward to sunny weather again.  Just for fun, here are some pictures of our yard, in its snowy splendor.

(That was actually across the street...I was trying to get a picture that would show how fluffy and fat the flakes were.)

Maybe all this snow will make our grass gorgeous and green soon.  We shall see.

Since we are headed into day five here at home, we'll have to be creative tomorrow.  Or else I fear someone may lose his head.  I mean, his mind.  Or hers.  What do you do on snow days?  (Besides sleep!  That is an obvious answer, and I can't quite convince my kids that it is a truly worthwhile endeavor.)

Stuck at Home, Day 2

Ta-da!

It is so wonderful to walk out of the laundry room down the middle of the hallway!  Doing a little dance with that disaster along the wall every time I did a load was no fun.  I am very excited that I met this goal.  (Not dancing with disasters, but cleaning the hall.)  Next to do:  organize the actual laundry room.  The cabinets above the machines will hold a lot, but they were not really cleaned out like I was hoping they would be by the service that came to, well, clean.  BUMMER.  Whatever.  I'm just going to line the shelves and carry on.  I have got to get that room in a more efficient state.  I'm gonna!

So there.

As you may or may not have known, the schools here were closed again today.  The ice on the roads is just too dangerous.  Mike tried to go to Sonic today for a fun lunch (He was picking up lunch for everyone and bringing it back...not going there alone.  It sounded like he was trying to escape.  Which could be true, sometimes.  I mean, I want to.) but the car wouldn't even go two inches before the wheels started spinning.  I'm grateful he discovered this while at the curb rather than while heading into traffic.  Although, there probably wasn't much traffic.  Still.  Better not to crash into telephone poles, eh?

So, we came up with stuff to eat around here, and everyone survived the disappointment of not getting slushes.  It was rough for a few minutes, but I made chocolate milk for them and they lived happily ever after.

Until the next quarrel.  But the chocolate milk did buy me a small amount of peace and quiet.  Peace and quiet was also brought to me by the eighty hours of T.V. that they watched.  Terrible.  I can't imagine being in the little house on that blizzardy prairie during the long winter (which you can read about in The Long Winter) without television.  What did they do?!  Right.  They twisted hay into sticks to burn so they wouldn't freeze to death.

Are we spoiled much? 

While I was working on cleaning that hallway, and doing more laundry (How could I possibly have more laundry?  I did eleven loads yesterday.), Mike was in Christian's room painting.  I think this is the first time we have ever painted in a home.  It's fun!  The kids thought so too.  At least for about thirty minutes.

A little sidenote...The new color of this room makes me think of Mike's room at his mom's, which is no longer there since she and her husband remodeled.  While a lot was accomplished, there is still quite a bit to do, and Michaela's room is on the agenda for tomorrow as well. 

We are slowly making this house our home.  In my rebellious heart I snarl things like,"I'll never like it here," and,"This place will never feel like home."  I hope that my stinkin' heart will change.  Do you have trouble with moves, too?  I think most people do.  What are some things that have helped you feel more at home in your new space?