Thank you to everyone who has emailed to check in on our progress with buying the house and to ask why things have been so quiet at WBFS.  I can pretty much answer both questions with this –We’re still living with my parents.  They are being very gracious, but I think we are ALL ready for our own space. 

Personally, I wouldn’t mind my own Christmas tree either. 

Maybe even my own forks.  

But, whatever.

In case you missed it on Facebook & Twitter last week, a photographer from the New York Times came to my [parents'] house to take some pics of HH, who’d been interviewed for an article about reading books on his iPhone.

Though my mom and I fluffed and straightened and Febreezed for what seemed like forever, I thought it would be a quick come in, snap a couple poses of HH reading on the couch and then it would be done.  My parents would be gone to Bible study, so I could easily keep the kids entertained with some play-doh and/or coloring books.

Wrong.

The photographer stayed almost two hours.  He was very pleasant and didn’t seem bothered that my 15 month-old stood staring at him the whole time.  (She’s a little intense.  And judgemental.) And he seemed quite interested in Wog’s Halloween candy and guitar playing skills.  He even invited Bug into a couple of shots.

I don’t think  he was prepared for the slingshot.  Or the massive gas-passing from my parent’s geriatric, not-so-miniature dachshund.  But, hey,  he works for the New York Times while living in Alabama.  I’m sure “Rollwithit” is his middle name.

The article turned out really good.  Surprisingly, it didn’t have the whole Look, folks in Alabama CAN read! slant, as I’d jokingly anticipated.

Click on over to see the article and feast your eyes upon the handsomeness that is my hubby.  It appears that Bug has made it to the big time as well.

Look at these swanky dessert plates!!  I won them over at Vintage Dutch Girl…like forever ago.  I only opened the box long enough to swipe a picture.  Then, I promptly sealed them back up, because, in case you haven’t heard…

I was supposed to be MOVING!!!!!

But, these pretty plates are still sitting in storage awaiting their debut, which it appears, sadly,  won’t be Thanksgiving.  I just could no longer bear not showing them off.  So, here they are.  You’ll just have to imagine them sporting the pumpkin pie.

You know the rest. The truth is that I haven’t been able to say many nice things, so I’ve been pretty quiet. We’re still waiting to close on the house. We’re not receiving very good communication — even from our own representation. It’s been frustrating and heartbreaking. There are bright spots. We’ve learned a lesson or two and the generosity and love of our family and friends has been so humbling. We’re hanging in there for now. Hopefully, I’ll have some good news to share soon.
*Fingers crossed*

And while one would think that was a good thing, the truth is that is stinks!  Two weeks ago I set up two autoposts, both were 100% ready, but the subject matter was still up in the air.  Fast forward a little and here I sit, still waiting to hit post.

Well, lest you think I’m literally sitting around waiting to post, I should say that I’m actually not.  I’m frantically throwing things in boxes.  Frantically, not only because I have two kids that are opposed to my actually accomplishing a task like packing a box, but because I have to be out of the rental house in two days.  What?!  Two days?!  Oh, my friends, that’s not even the fun part!  What could possibly be more fun than moving everything you own within a few days?!  Try not having a place to move your stuff to.

Yeah, I know.

I haven’t really mentioned the house search or the pending purchase because I know how everything can go south in a hot minute.  I also know the nature of my luck — sucky.  So, I’ve put off posting about it so as not to jinx anything.  But, as I sit here, surrounded by half-packed boxes, I realize that it is pretty clear that we’re moving.  What I can’t post, unfortunately, is that we’ve bought our very first house.  Because it’s been two weeks since our first scheduled closing and it has yet to be rescheduled.

Yeah, I know.

Fortunately, my parents have generously opened their home to us.  They live right across town and have a virtually unoccupied upstairs.  Unoccupied, if you don’t count the faint smell of cat pee from the year that my sister, her husband, and all of their animals–both great and small– occupied it.  But these are tough times and if a roof over my family’s heads means that we’ll all smell like cat pee for a little while… well, what’s a little nose-holding among friends?  (Consider this your warning, if you know me in real life!)

So, say a prayer or two for us as we await signing the papers on our new house.  And, for me especially,  as I try to navigate managing my household while under the roof of someone with twice the authority as me but with half the rules– my mama.

This morning, I woke up in a pretty good mood.  Wog only woke up once, I crawled into bed with him and then we slept away until after 7:30.  That’s pretty huge!  After he and HH left, I turned on the TV and it kind of hit me like a ton of bricks… it was September 11th.  My good mood quickly faded.

Despite the overcast weather, it was easy to go along with my usual Friday morning activities: dishes, the grocery store, picking Wog up from preschool.  He was especially proud of a sticker that was on his shirt.  He chattered about it all the way to the gas station.  He kept trying to show it to me, but all I could manage was an “Uh huh” and “That’s great” since I really couldn’t very well turn around while I was driving.

After pulling up to the pump, I stepped out into the mist and proceeded to chat with the kids through the rolled-down window while the gas pumped.  It was then that Wog pulled his sticker off of his shirt and held it out for me to see.

It was a flag.  The American flag.  I began to cry.  (Thank goodness for the misty weather.)

Today he’s clueless.  It’s a cool day because he got a sticker.