So far the summer of 2016 has been a mixed bag of highs and lows. And since it’s been a while since I waxed personal around these parts, I figured why not share some “roses and thorns” as we do at the dinner table most nights, with you fine people.
Rose: we’re buying a house, and we’re all set to close next Friday, August 12th. The final hurdle is appraisal, which happens this Thursday and which we are very much hoping contains no surprises whatsoever, because surprises are no longer fun or whimsical when they relate to matters of home ownership. As we learned during inspection.
St. Joseph came through like a baller though*, because we got an unprecedented number of objections favorably addressed by the seller, and we’re going to be able to do most of the new flooring and all of the painting our little 70’s dream boat requires right away.
*(and oh, by the way, if you’re buying or selling real estate in the metro Denver area, Brendan Moran is my new best friend and my heart leaps for joy a little when I have a new email from him, and as excited as I am to be in our new house, I will be a little bit sad when we aren’t regularly communicating about life, because he is my people. If you need a bulldog of a realtor who will fight for you and fight hard with a smile on his face, he is your man. With an Irish accent. You’re welcome.)
Thorn: I had shingles. Which was pretty much the worst. But which admittedly could have been so, so much worse. I’m officially one month out today, and I feel almost 90% my old self, which, according to my panicky late-night online research, is about the best recovery course one can hope for with adult chickenpox. Possible pro? My kids may now be extra immune to chicken pox. Or it might by lying in wait, hoping to pounce once the school year begins in earnest. Time will tell.
Rose: I’m almost completely packed for our big move, because I used part of my enforced downtime from all things work and internet related to assemble and fill cardboard boxes with all our worldly possessions. The kids were pretty helpful, much more so than in previous moves when the median age was much lower, and our house looks like we’re indoor camping for the next 9 days. And we’re not really missing anything we’ve packed so far. Which means that despite my best efforts towards minimalism, we still own 70% too many things. I am seriously considering dropping a considerable number of my tidy, packed boxes at Saver’s on our way across town. Will I really miss anything inside them, if I’m not missing it right now? Maybe the winter coats. But anything else? It’s like I capsule-wardrobed our entire life, and then promptly forgot about all of it.
Thorn: I still have 19 stubborn pounds of Luke-weight to lose, and he’s about to be one. And he is almost (sob) walking. He started crawling last month and now he’s doing that drunken sailor swagger where he lets go of furniture and flails his arms a bit before plopping down hard. Because gravity. Please recall that 2 year old Evie has only actually been walking for about a year herself (how can that possibly be, I wonder, as she sprints past the neighbor’s mailbox and heads for the stop sign at the end of the block, cackling as she evades me).
Rose: When he does turn one next week, we will have achieved our longest to-date spacing between any of our children, meaning I have a decent shot at losing the rest of the weight, should I be able to chill out and stop medicating my deep end-of-day packing and parenting angst with wine and salt and vinegar chips.
While catching up on a seriously backlogged blog feed last night, I came across Dwija’s post about Trim Healthy Mama and immediately launched into an hour of research and scrolling. Anyone else tried this and found it effective? Because daily trips to the gym and keeping My Fitness Pal happy at 1600 calories does not seem to be doing the trick entirely, this time around. It makes sense in an intellectual sense, but then again, I am the queen of starting off a Whole 30 with the intensity and terrible focus of a senior during finals week, only to peter out on day 14 with a margarita in hand, “because agave is a little bit Paleo, you know?”
Thorn: I am more exhausted than I have ever been in my entire life, which keeps confounding me when I hit 8:30 pm each night and seriously debate the merits of not going to bed yet. Then I remember shingles, the house-buying process, 4 young kids in varying states of a late-summer gastrointestinal illness, and a world that seems to be collapsing around my ears if one tunes in too closely to the news, and I figure that probably anyone in my shoes would be as tired. And while it is helpful to extend myself a little grace with that rationalization, it does not do as much to ameliorate the feelings of inadequacy and fatigue that I am imagining only the dawn of a new school year in 3 week will fully accomplish.
Rose: I’m done now.
Thorn: you just read it all.
Happy Tuesday y’all. Anyone hitting up “National Night Out” tonight? Our local police department is teaming up with our parish, and I’m looking forward to showing our officers a little love. Plus, they’re bringing a margarita cart.