Author: maggie

So, Wilson and I had a fight yesterday. He started it by going to use the bathroom and then calling me when he was finished. “Mama! There’s water everywhere!”, I hear as I’m walking into the bathroom to see my son’s hand coming out of the used toilet bowl splashing “water everywhere” with it. This, less than hour before we were supposed to leave to go out to eat with my family for my brother’s birthday. He was, of course, already dressed in what he really wanted to wear- his cowboy outfit. The cowboy outfit that I had spent all afternoon hand sewing new cuffs on to make the pants longer since he still loves them, but they’d gotten a little short. The shirt sleeves are soaked, so I yank the shirt off and march him upstairs to try and find something that sort of matches the pants & boots and to dissinfect him. The one solid color, long sleeve shirt that I can find has a mystery stain on the sleeve. After running it under water, mystery solved, it suds up- orange dog shampoo (S-A-N-T-A made a Target run and had heard that we were low on doggie shampoo and that it would be a great stocking stuffer. Wilson needed a plain white shirt to wear under his Christmas sweaters for church. Apparently the two rode home together in the same bag). So after drenching the sleeve to get the orange out, I go downstairs to run the hairdryer over the sleeve to dry it. Of course, halfway through Wilson starts chattering at me about something and I turn the dryer off to hear him. The dryer then decides that it’s worked hard enough for one day & won’t turn back on. So, into the real dryer the mostly dry shirt goes with the day’s soaking wet load of laundry. I then told Wilson that I was extremely frustrated and that I needed him to go to the playroom or his room so that he would not get yelled at. He proceeded to shadow me, chattering all the way.

He got yelled at. I went to my room.

A few minutes later Dad calls to say he’s on his way home and laughs at the above events. When I hang up with him I open my door to try to find Wilson. It’s very quiet and I have no idea where he is. I go up to his room, look in his bed, in his closet, under the baby bed, in Miller’s closet, then all over the down stairs- he’s nowhere to be found. His lion and silky soft are laying on the floor of the sun room where he was playing with them earlier but he’s not with them. I start to wonder if he walked out of the house, but think, no I would have heard the door. Just then I start hearing some faint snoring sounds- thank God for nasty colds. I follow the distinct sound of sludge passing in and out of nasal cavities.

Wilson ended the fight. . .nothing like a real good guilt trip to bring mom around . . .

That’s him, passed out, in what is basically a do-it-yourselfer’s construction zone, on the bare concrete of our sun porch, with no shirt on, head on a tool box, his only friend the Rubik’s cube by his side, hoping I’ll open that door (which is one of the entrances to our bedroom). As soon as I finally found him, I knew I was the germ in the toilet I was mad at him for splashing in.

And that I was glad he fell asleep so close to the camera.

Fortunately, Phil was home not too much longer and able to get him off the floor. We all enjoyed a wonderful hibachi meal at Little Tokyo for Uncle John’s 19th.

We all made it there with (sort of) clean shirts on.

Last week Pat-Pat stopped by with an early Christmas present for Wilson & me. Apparently we’ve come across as bored, because boy did she fix us up with a project!! (Just kidding, Pat Pat, you know us all too well. We both love a project and we LOVE our gift -the FIRST round was quite fun!) She came in with a very large box from Williams Sonnoma. Inside was a red apron with a race car and track on it, a red spatula with a race car on it, a cake pan that makes 8 different car & truck shaped cakes, and a tin of candies to decorate them with. One of Wilson’s loves is cooking so this sent him on a chatter box whirlwind. That particular day I was in the middle of painting Wilson’s room and that evening we were going to the Singing Christmas Tree with our community group, so we couldn’t start them that minute. But that didn’t stop Wilson’s enthusiasm. He talked about it for the rest of the day and carried the spatula everywhere (it rode in the car with us to eat dinner and go to the tree that night!) He woke up the next morning raring to go! Here’s the process and product:

This one features two marshmallow snowmen driving their Christmas tree home. My great grandmother’s voice came through load and clear through her great-great grandson while we created this one. I cut the tree out of sour candy tape and put down some icing for him to stick in. After he stuck it on, he let me know “Mamma, it’s ‘posta‘ have a star on top!” This immediately brought back memories of me, my mom, and grandmother decoration gingerbread men & women in my grandmother’s kitchen at Christmas and her mother sitting at the table say, “you all should ice a little lace collar around the necks of the girls!” Thankfully, the forth generation was content with a small, yellow Dot for a star- I could just see myself with a paring knife trying to get it into a star shape!

Starting in about the middle of October we’d ask Wilson, “what time is it about to be?” and he’d answer in a very quiet whisper (almost as if it were said out loud it wouldn’t happen) “it’s almost my birthday!”

“Then what time is it going to be?”

“Halloween time!”

“Then what time is it going to be?”

“Thanksgiving time!”

“Then what time is it going to be?”

(return to the hushed tone- we’d hate to jinx this one either) “It’s go be Chrismas time!” (his pronunciation)

Well, Wilson, “Then what time will it be?”

“IT’S GO BE MILLER-TIME!”

And so, now here we are. 3rd birthday behind us, costume made and not worn, turkey eaten, and a few sparkly things and manger scenes are starting to find their way out of boxes, so, Miller time must be upon us! We have almost gotten her room together and last night Wilson went to his big brother class at the hospital. Following are a few pictures of our preparation for Miller time!

Everyone brought a doll or stuffed animal to practice with- Wilson chose Rocco, the dog.

Phil’s doing quite nicely with that bottle!
Here they are learning how to diaper a baby. I love that Dad is intently watching the instructor, like he’s never done it before!
Wilson thought Rocco in a diaper was hilarious
Next, they got to try on doctor clothes- well Wilson graciously let Daddy play with his.

Here they are looking at all the new babies- 10 were born yesterday!

Feeling how warm the infant warmer in the delivery room is
Wilson getting his certificate
Showing off his new skills

Some of the Christmas decorations at the hospital- they had a life size nativity set up

And . . . the highlight of the evening, ice cream in the lobby of the hospital
(should you come to visit while we’re there- you’ll know where to find Wilson!)

Helping Daddy get Miller’s bed put together.

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”!

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.

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.