The Big Move

Things are puttering along over here in renovation land.  Our lower kitchen cabinets are installed, new appliances are ordered and the plan of attack and timeline is set with the realtor and stager.  Our first open house will be September 19, so our work needs to be done and we need to be completely moved out by September 13.  This gives us seven weekends (yikes).

We thought we would jump in this weekend with full productivity, so we are going on a day trip on Saturday and then a picnic on Sunday.  Oh wait... what renovation?  The day trip on Saturday is to Hollister, one of Ray's off-roading spots, and it is an all California meetup that has been planned for months.  We are on "gate duty" and then "roving," which I think means we ride around looking for people that need help and help them (not positive on this one).  Oh, and Ray has been asked to take photos (of course).  We were going to camp and spend the weekend, but duty calls.  The birth center where Roscoe was born hosts an annual picnic for all "alumni" so we are going to stop by on Sunday and catch up with our midwives and (hopefully) see some other babies from our childbirth classes.  Hopefully we can squeeze in some kitchen work and a trip to the dump in between the fun.

Here is a teaser photo of our progress... I haven't taken any with all of the lower cabinets, but we now have a fully functional sink again.  Hooray!

And a bonus photo of Brody (so cute!):

Congratulations Heather and Mitchel!

Brody Paul was born this morning.  6 lbs and 20 inches of cuteness after a wonderfully uneventful labor (well, uneventful after they induced a few weeks early for high blood pressure).

Congratulations Mitchel, Heather, Kyle, Brynn and Troy!  I can't wait to meet him!!  I love you guys!

p.s. How effin amazing does Heather look after just having her FOURTH baby in 5.5 years?

RoBoy, Roo, Roo-ster, Scoe, Scooter, Pup, RoBro, Boogity-Boogity-Boo

Whatever you call him, he is getting to be such a big boy!  He had his first fat lip recently (a result of him testing what it felt to bonk his face into the hardwood floor a few times until it hurt).  Yes, it is hard to tell because he already has a fatty upper lip, but it was fatty-er and had a little red spot and a cut on his gums...poor little boo:

He is sleeping much better, loves any fruits and veggies we give him (even peas, BLECH), and furiously army crawls towards anything he shouldn't be touching.  His current favorite things to explore are my laptop cord (or any cord for that matter), my mouse, the cabinets we are assembling - especially the paper instructions, the dog hairs he finds on the rug and under the TV trunk, the dogs' paws, shoes (on or off feet), keys, anything on his changing table that requires him to turn over and scoot off the changing pad, our phones, my necklaces and hoodie strings.  

He loves, loves, loves the dogs and cracks himself up just watching them.  Thankfully they are very gentle and patient with his tugging and pulling.  

Mutual curiosity:

These are crazy days with Roscoe's increased mobility coinciding with our torn up, partially packed, partially remodeled house.  But really, this here makes every challenge worth it:

The Kitchen (dum, dum, dummmmm...)

You may be wondering why I have been so much better about taking photos and may have noticed that they are not all grainy and gray (i.e. taken from my phone).  That is because Ray got me a new miniature camera for my birthday!  Hooray!  My old camera is broken and Ray's professional gear is just too much for me to carry around and whip out on a whim.  This new camera is smaller than my phone (!) and purple-ish.  *grin*  And this is how I know that Ray loves me extra much: I am being a ridiculous pain about not spending any money right now because all of our pennies need to go into the house and moving expenses.  So, he sold car parts to buy me the camera for "free."  *swoon*  That man is a CATCH.

Birthday dinner:

So, we started on our kitchen reno last weekend with the unglamorous first bits.  You know, like packing stuff away and hardware store runs.  Ray was also doing electrical work.  When I asked what exactly he was doing he said "running two new branch circuits from the load center."  Ummm, O.K.  What I can tell you is that he added new piping and then pulled wires through it from our panel in the basement to the kitchen and added two new electrical box things so that we can add an exhaust fan, a dishwasher and a garbage disposal.  I cannot even tell you how torn I am that we are adding a dishwasher right before we move.  That is almost enough to make me want to stay.  Almost.    

I did remember to take a "Before" picture this time (well, before demo - I had already started packing):

There comes a point in any project that I look around and think: "what the *%#^ were we thinking?"  This is that moment:

Or maybe this:

The bottom half of the left wall is now torn out because they had that weird bump out thing that they never finished and Ray is fixing it.  Our base cabinets are in the basement and ready for installation next weekend.  We only have three more weekend days scheduled for the kitchen reno, so we are not wasting any time.

Roscoe is becoming more mobile and crafty by the day.  Case in point, I leave him to roll around on his play mat near sorted laundry and within a minute he has pulled out dirty clothes and is chewing on them.  Yummo. 

Home

The real estate agent is chosen, the timeline is in place, the projects are planned.  I do believe this is the right time for our family to move on, but I am sad to see our home go.  We will be here for a little while longer (maybe a month?), but it won't be the same because we will be renovating and packing and only half at-home here.  So, I wanted to remember what it was like when we really lived here - sorted laundry in the living room, dirty dishes in the sink, baby stuff everywhere, all of the little bits of life that make this Home.

Before I get all teary about the place where Ray and I spent our first days as newlyweds and then new parents, where our family and friends have been to visit, where we have spent countless hours working on "projects"... 

Speaking of projects, let me remind myself part of why we are leaving (note to self: save post to Favorites and reference frequently during the next 6 months as nostalgia and delusion set in).  Things I will not miss:

- The infestation of spiders between the back door and the basement door, with spider webs crossing every walkway option.  This requires very careful navigation (day time only - do not attempt after dusk) and has resulted in more than one occasion of Ray and I doing the OMG-spiders-are-crawling-on-me-dance and stripping off layers after one wrong step.  I am sure our downstairs neighbors find this entertaining and might even conspire with the spiders.

- The beautiful original doorknobs that fall off occasionally when you try and open or close the door:

- The stairs in the front that add such lovely curb appeal but make it impossible to carry Roscoe and a diaper bag and a stroller up and down.  So, we store the stroller in the dungeon, er, I mean basement, and need to put Roscoe in his carrier to go get the stroller and then try and get the stroller out the door and up the basement stairs with Roscoe still in the carrier and then go back down to close the basement door because you can't do that at the same time as squeezing through.  Oh, and then put him in the stroller and go wherever you want to go.  Repeat upon arriving home.

- The fact that we pay for parking 3 houses down (but still get the occasional parking tickets - UGH), but if I grocery shop or even just have 1 extra bag to bring in I have to decide where to leave Roscoe because I cannot carry him and more than a couple of bags from the car and up the stairs.  Leave him in the car?  At the bottom of the stairs in his seat?  Inside the house in his crib?  Carry him and 1 bag at a time 5 meeeeellion times down the block and up the stairs?  sOh to have a place to park the car that is actually near the door and not have to worry about the crazies that wander the streets just to unload my groceries.

- The bathroom window that does not close and makes it FREEZING cold in the winter (and summer - silly SF) with a perma-breeze.  Miserable pregnant women should not have to freeze their arse off to use the bathroom multiple times in the middle of the night.  If we close the bathroom door to try and keep the chills contained the bathroom door rattles loudly, so we have to stuff a piece of cardboard in between the door and the frame to minimize the banging.  Yes, it is loud enough that it keeps me up at night.  My lovely dad tried to seal the window last time he was here and it was so much better for several months, but then the wind BUSTED IT OPEN.  I give up, Window, you win.  

- The single pane windows throughout the house, but especially in our bedroom.  100 year old single pane glass is about as much of a sound barrier as saran wrap.  And this is the city, people, and there are homeless people all hours of the night pushing around their grocery carts full of aluminum cans and blasting their boom boxes.

- Our neighbors.  Not all of them, just the unit next door and the rotating cast of crazies.    

- Our kitchen.  I. Hate. That. Kitchen.  This is (partly) why:

Stupid half-ass tiled rubber squares.  Yes, this is the old linoleum showing:

There was a non-functioning hood here at one time that fell off the wall soon after we moved in:

Ooo, cutting edge stainless steel backsplash.  Or piece of thick tin foil that is cut around the outlet plate (but not attached to the wall) and only goes halfway across the "backsplash area" (cleverly covered by microwave oven):

Oh, and looky here - yet another linoleum pattern under the half-finished rubber floor:

And what might one do if one tore out all of the kitchen cabinets and bought 2 Ikea "cabinets" only to find that the cabinets actually don't fit?  Why, cut a hole in the wall, of course:

- The stingy hot water heater.  I hope and pray it lasts through a quick shampoo and condition and soap - shaving legs would be laughable.  Or when I forget (still) that I cannot shower within an hour of using the washing machine.

- Oh and the rat poop all over everything in our basement storage.

I am sure there is more that I have repressed, but I think that will be enough to remind me of why we are moving when I get all weapy about it.  Home, sweet home.  <3

Fill-in-the-Blank-Friday

From Lauren at the little things we do....  If you want to play along with me, you can post your responses in the comments.  Rocket science, I know.

1.  A very nostalgic place that reminds me of being a kid is      Grandpa and Grandma Top's farm.  Climbing The Tree in the front.  Playing games on the lawn.  Camping in the side yard.  "Driving" the tractors.  Making slides and tunnels in the hay loft.  Taking walks after meals on the hilly country road.  Peaches and ice cream.  Sitting on the piano bench at the table.  Playing with Auntie Nance's old (scary) stuffed animals and Grandma's old clothes upstairs.    .

2.  If someone really wants to show me how much they love me      they can pay attention and then show me they are paying attention by doing something little that means a lot.  The key is "little" because large gestures make me uncomfortable (which someone would know if they were paying attention...)  So, better for someone to bring me a tea bag they thought I might like to try versus presenting me with a trophy for being wonderful at a parade they held in my honor  .

3.  Lately I've been wondering a lot about   my identity and how to fight the labels and remember I am still the same stellar me even if I leave the city and become a Suburban Mom who may never do Muay Thai again and probably can't do 5 push-ups anymore  .

4.  When it comes to saving money I am      better than I used to be!  I try very hard and think and plan very carefully, but am sometimes distracted from my goals by shiny things (i.e. food wrappers)_.

5.  I'd prefer     caramel    over    chocolate    any day! 

6.  I wish I knew how to make      myself slow down and simplify  .

7.  I'm just waiting for      us to decide where we are moving so I can mentally prepare myself and map out various scenarios for the next five years in my head    .

Toilet Humor

So, I show up at my client today and see a sign that says "men's restroom out of order, please use women's". Great *sarcastic* since I have to sit in there to pump and it is already a pretty tragic situation (as you may recall).

Then I am told that we can't actually use either bathroom (broken sewage pipe and backup). Um... I am here 8+ hours along with maybe 10 other people. What exactly are we supposed to do? I suppose this is SF and I could always just squat between two parked cars, but that's not really my style.

Finally Sewer Man comes to assess the situation.
Sewer Man: "we can fix it tomorrow morning, but in the meantime use the bathroom sparingly."
Boss Man: "ok I'll tell everyone not to drink water."
Sewer Man: "water is fine. Tell them not to eat."

As I type, Admin Girl is driving around looking for a place to stop because she's got to go.

Where DO I find these clients?

Dump Day and the Happy Cervix

I had quite the interesting Wednesday.  One of the Program Directors at one of my arts clients is on the board of this artist program at the SF Dump.  Yes, that's right, an artist program at the dump.  This just makes me want to hug San Francisco and all of its stereotypical San Francisco-ness.  So, he is on the board and arranged for several of us to go on a tour of their "transfer center," which is basically where everything goes from the bins at the curb and it is then redirected depending if it is landfill garbage, recycling or compost (SF has mandatory compost).  I love me a facility tour (my favorite episode EVER of Sesame Street is where they go to the Crayola factory.  Factory Tour + Colors = Heaven for a young me).


But before we get to the tour, we have to get to the dump.  And before I can leave for the dump I have to wake up early-early (not a problem since I have a relentless Little Alarm Clock...and I use "wake up" quite loosely as my Alarm Clock woke me up EVERY HOUR the night before), get myself ready, get Roscoe ready, pump and then meet with our new nanny on her first day and give her the low-down, say good-bye to Roscoe as he cries desperately with the new stranger since he is now in full separation-anxiety mode and then walk the 1.25 miles to work.  Two blocks from home I feel something warm and wet and to my HORROR I see a massive liquid dump that a sneaky bird took on my arm.  Alas.  Must I be shit on every day of my life by either a dog, a baby or a bird?  I scraped the chunks off with a leaf and tried to hold my head high with my shitty arm the rest of the way.  I have never been so happy to see that bathroom sink.  


I think I can classify the tour as a life changing experience for me because I have thought about it now every single time I throw something away (and I thought I was already pretty conscientious).  I always wanted to care more and be more careful, but there is no ignoring the reality of what a mess we are all making when you see it live.  You know those dump trucks?  Do you know how many of those go to a landfill EVERY single day??  Just from SF proper?  Between 300 and 400.  And there are only 800,000 people in SF.  And we have some of the highest recycling and composting rates in the nation.  Can you even imagine how many dump trucks worth the US contributes to the landfill every single day?  I used to tell myself that since food scraps are biodegradable that they would just "disappear" once in the landfill.  Ah, sweet ignorance.  Not only do the food scraps not disappear because they do not have the air necessary to decompose, they also begin to release methane, then causing global warming.  I would like to think that all of this is somehow unrelated to me and that my little actions don't affect the future of our Earth (Roscoe's future) that much.  But that is just not true.  And I feel the burden of responsibility after seeing how my choices are literally destroying God's creation.  Birds and fish with their stomachs 40% full of plastics because there are swirls of plastic in our oceans 2 MILES DEEP.  What I find especially disturbing is that all of these plastic products are fairly new.  It is stomach-turning to realize the damage we have done in the last 50-60 years.  And we can't "take it back."  The damage is done.  Even when you recycle a milk jug, it can only be recycled maybe one time and then it is just waste.  But we can change what we do from here on out.  I am not usually much of a preacher, even when I believe strongly in something, but honestly it makes me sick to my stomach when people don't recycle cans and bottles and things that are so ridiculously easy to do.  It makes me as angry as I get when the lady around the corner screams at her kids.  Which is very angry.  If you happen to be one of those people (don't tell me, I don't want to know), I would challenge you to educate yourself about where things actually go when you throw them away.  If you then make an educated decision to not recycle and continue to be wasteful, then that is your business.  But I know for sure that I can't live in denial any more and need to make an effort to lessen my own personal impact.  Rant over.  Deep breaths and shoulder rolls.    



What made the tour bearable for me and my heavy heart is that, first of all, I am lucky to live in SF where recycling and composting is relatively easy to do.  Secondly, someone had the brilliant idea of starting an artist-in-residence program at the dump to utilize some of the wasted resources.  The artists scavenge the public disposal area (where you/construction companies drop off their waste, not the garbage from the dump trucks...) and use the materials they find to create artwork and then have an exhibition at the end of 4 months.  The artist we talked to found shopping carts full of paints, glue, papers, tools and many treasures.  Also, SF has St. Vincent de Paul come and collect items for their charity.  That made me feel slightly better.  

So, this was Roscoe's first week with his new nanny, Francinne.  He seems to feel comfortable with her and I think our decision to have her come to our house was the right one.  He actually took a 1 hour 40 minute nap with her on Friday morning which he has never done, ever, with anyone besides Ray or I (and rarely with us!)  The sleeping issue was the main reason I stopped taking him to work in the first place and the reason we wanted him to be able to stay home where he is comfortable, so we are very happy that it seems to be working out well.  

I went for a follow up appointment yesterday to have more biopsies taken of my cervix.  I have been dreading this appointment for a long time because a) it is painful and b) there is a chance that it has progressed beyond "stage 0" and would require chemo/radiation/hysterectomy to treat.  I don't even let my mind go there.  The good (amazing, actually) news is that the doctor is optimistic based on the colposcopy and only had to biopsy 1 area (as opposed to the 3 areas she biopsied right before I got pregnant).  Which means that the other 2 areas have improved on their own (likely sloughed off during Roscoe's birth).  Hooray!  If you are the praying kind, pray that the prognosis is no longer "severe" when I get the lab results in a week or two.  Severe means another invasive (and painful) procedure that will mess with my ability to carry another baby anytime soon.  And I wasn't planning to wait five years to have another!  I did get a good chuckle at the doctor's face when I told her I had Roscoe at a birth center.  You would think I told her I had him under the bridge next to the 101.  Silly woman.  

I haven't taken many photos lately, but here is one where Roscoe appears to be doing a push-up with his bear on his back.  Resistance training already!  He is his father's boy, no doubt.

All Grown Up (For a Six Month Old)

Roscoe is growing up so fast.  Am I allowed to say that already?  That's what "old people" always said when I was growing up.  It's true though!

He has been sleeping in his crib all night now.  The bassinet is just too small for him and I am not as worried about having him out of sight.  I am not going to lie, though, I was a little bit heartbroken when we made the transition because I missed him so much and just wanted to hold him (I realize this sounds ridiculous and I blame the breastfeeding hormones).  I am slowly adjusting (Roscoe has been pretty fine about the whole thing from the beginning) and now I mostly just wish he would only wake up twice at night.  Which he sometimes does!  I know, I know, alert the media, our boy is a sleeping machine!  Any more than twice and the room next door feels SO FAR from my bed.  

He is also becoming increasingly independent.  He does not like us to hold his bottle or give him his paci.  He wants to do it himself.  He also refuses to let us feed him his "solid" food (pears are his absolute favorite so far) and insists on feeding himself with the spoon.  He does make a good mess that way, but I humor him because really, who wants to be fed slop on a spoon by someone else?  I am all for "fostering independence."

Roscoe's cousin Aubrynn (two and a half) called me the other day (with help, of course) to talk to me about Rock-So, which is what she calls him.  I just really cannot wait for all of the cousins to hang out this Christmas.  Have I mentioned that a few times already?  Ok then, carry on.

I may be mistaken, but I swear the other day that Roscoe imitated Ray when Ray was making monkey sounds at Roscoe.  You know, like eee-eee-ooo-ooo-aaa--aaa.  And Roscoe answered back with high pitched noises like he was trying to figure it out.  I almost burst with pride for my little monkey.  

Our boy is also officially exactly average sized.  No more butterball baby (75% for weight; 25% for height).  He is now 50/50.  I don't really care what percentiles he is in, but I think he will have an easier time dressing himself as more average than if he maintained the 75/25 ratio.  

One of my all-time favorite memories of Roscoe so far is a recent one.  The other day Roscoe and Ray were having a little morning cuddle with Ray laying on his back and Roscoe on his belly next to him.  Roscoe leaned down really close to Ray's face and started sticking out his tongue licking Ray's lips.  I really think he was trying to kiss Ray and it is the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life.  

Ketchup

Or Catch Up, if you prefer.

Lots going on around here, which means more to write about and less time.  I will not get up from this seat until I finish a catch up post, so let's all hope Roscoe does not wake up from his nap and the dogs do not have any accidents until I am DONE.

*  We found a new nanny!  Her name is Fran and she is in her mid-twenties (I am guessing) and from Brazil.  I think it will all work out well, but she starts on Wednesday and I am not looking forward to the transition (if you recall, Roscoe refused to eat last time he started with a nanny...).  Plus since she is coming to our house we have to work out some details about where the dogs will be and making things accessible for her and getting her some notes about Roscoe's routine, etc.  Fingers crossed that he will adore her immediately and we will all live happily ever after.

[Failed already on the not-getting-up bit.  Roscoe is awake and now furiously chomping on Sophie the Giraffe's head as I type]

* Roscoe's first camping trip ("May Day") was a success and he got to wear his bear outfit at night to keep him cozy.  How stinking cute is he, people?  Also a special shout out to Best Man Chris for watching the dogs so we didn't have all 3 with us.  Even though he is terrified of dogs and thinks Mela is planning something sinister when she stares him down.  But we all know she is a just a PIG and is willing him to feed her something, anything, pretty, pretty please.


* Ray and I celebrated our 2nd anniversary by driving up to Calistoga for the day while Roscoe celebrated by hanging out with two of his favorites entertainers: Lolo and LalaFriend.  We had gone to Calistoga for a couple of days after our wedding and then again while I was in False Labor so we hit up some of Our Spots.  I was particularly excited to do a little wine tasting and brought my pump so I didn't have to worry about getting Roo drunk when we got home.  You know you are sleep deprived with Mommy (and Daddy) Brain when you drive all the way to wine country to wine taste and then leave without stopping at a single winery...  Oops.  I guess they aren't going anywhere so there is always next time.  We did manage to stop for some new caulk for the windows.  I don't think we win any romance awards, but I loved just hanging out with Ray for the day without smelling like spit up.

[Three hours later... some people stopped by...]

* My (very loved) Grandma suffered a heart attack just over a week ago, which scared me and made me think about things I sometimes forget.  Thankfully she is home from the hospital and doing well.  I would really love to make a trip to Minnesota sometime to spend some time with her and the rest of the family we have there.  The people I love are just too darn spread out!  I know, I know, I contribute to this problem.  We will keep making the rounds and visiting as often as we can.

* On a (very) tragic note, we are also trying to come to terms with the fact that one of Ray's good friends (from growing up) is on his way to prison for murder.  He actually shot one of his close friends in the head.  Ray had distanced himself from him in the last few years because the friend had gone down a different path and was having some (scary) mental issues and he relied a bit on Ray to be his "real friend" and keep him grounded, which is just too much responsibility.  It is surreal because he has been all over the news and the police and the press have been calling to talk to Ray.  If it goes to trial there is a chance that Ray would be called as a witness and that is just a lot to process.  It is a lot for me to process and I barely knew him.  I can't imagine what it feels like for Ray when he remembers riding bikes with him around the neighborhood.

* The biggest news we have is that we have decided to move.  Like...NOW.  We have been thinking and planning for years, so everything is basically already mapped out.  With the dogs getting older and having more trouble with the stairs and trying to carry Roscoe and his gear and stroller up and down those stairs and squeezing us all into the place Ray lived in by himself 4.5 years ago... it has been feeling like it might be time.  Plus, our neighbor just sold her place for the asking price after only 21 days on the market, which has us feeling optimistic.  That along with a bunch of other factors makes it seem like the right time and has given us a sense of urgency.  We will be moving in with the In-Laws while we finish renovations and stage and sell the house.  Then we will start looking for a new place in The Burbs.  Alas.  My city days are over after seven years here and I am in mourning.

The other day I took another picture of Mela sneaking a morning cuddle with Roscoe and it reminded me of a similar picture I took when Roscoe was less than a month old.  Same cuddly dog, but Roscoe (and life) has changed so much.  I can't believe that was only six months ago!