Monday, July 29, 2013

Don't worry, neighbors. Mine is imaginary, and Nick isn't playing.

So, before the watermageddon that befell us just over a week ago, we got this lovely new addition to our home.

Plantation shutters.

If you've known me a while, you know that this makes me giggle and mutter things like, "Hellooo! Penis penis penis!" under my breath.

And if you haven't known me a while, well, now you know.

So, hey. It's Monday, and there's something wrong with me. But I'm pretty sure they'll become just plain normal soon.

Me, on the other hand? Ha.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

This is reality, Greg.

I don't know if you remember the movie E.T.? Apparently it just played at Screen on the Green, and it would've been a delight to sit outside and watch it.

And I bring it up because our house has gotten very E.T. towards the end, when the Feds discover that Eliot has an alien at his house and they quarantine it and cover it in plastic and there are all these tubes and machines and such.

You know, I know how that movie ends, and still I sob when it looks like he's going to die, and I get all panicked when they are trying to escape. I do not know why this is, but it is so.

In any case.
That's the second floor room that India used to sleep in, which the elevator goes through. The part of the closet that hasn't fallen in or been pulled off will basically be ripped out. We're hoping the floor isn't ruined. We've already thrown out half the closet contents and are washing or dry cleaning the rest.

The photo below is Betty's room. Thankfully, she's visiting Maude's parents. Because she wouldn't be able to get to the elevator. And you can't use the stairs, because they're blocked off on the ground floor (top picture).

We have a plastic areas on every floor, and gigantor fans and dehumidifiers that suck 16 gallons of water per hour! This I find very impressive, I don't know why.

I have lots more pictures I was going to post, but then I was like, do they need to see every damn room and hallway with plastic and tubing and a big water sucky machine?

Anyway. Let me sum up.

Some of you may recall how we moved in just over four years ago and immediately commenced construction and really only got done with indoor construction, what, right before India was born?

I mean, now Jordan is almost four and has basically grown up with Australian Builder and Hector Big Wood.

So. We went away for five days. Last Wednesday to Sunday. We so rarely go away, almost never for that long.  But we did. All of us. We went to Nick's work retreat, and Betty went to Vermont.

And during that time, the AC on the fourth floor backed up and flooded. Soaked through the floor, through the wall, through my mom's closet, through what used to be the nursery closet (which, being one of our only closets, was packed to the gills with coats, comforter, clothes, stuff), through another wall, through the dining room ceiling, and down to the dining room floor.

Water turns out to be very terrible, even if it's not a tsunami. Fuckity fuck, basically. It is a giant fucking disaster.

That said, nothing bad befell any of us, and honestly, it's only money and stuff and a big hassle. We have too much stuff. But we can always use more hassle.

Also, everyone we have dealt with, except the initial claims people, who were the ones who broke the news about how our agent snuck in a whopping deductible, has been lovely. Totally professional and very pleasant. The appraiser and all the water mitigation people have been fantastic.

Which is good, because they've spent a lot of time with us lately, and it doesn't look like their visits are going to end anytime soon. The asbestos-checker arrives at 7:00 am tomorrow, the water mitigation fellows arrive around 10:00.

So, basically, I'll...be....right...here.

(I love E.T. Love. Makes me cry every time.)

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

And there you have it.

You'd think that after three weeks I might have something important to say. 

And honestly, I do have all kinds of things to talk about: leaving my job; struggling as a stay-at-home mom; goodbye happy hour antics; top-to-bottom water damage in our house - wee things like that.

However. You know when you're really stressed you just want to to into your comfort zone?

So let's talk poop. Specifically, how Jordan informed the entire ladies' room in Target about my activities in the bathroom stall.

You see, we were walking through the store drinking our coconut water, discussing the merits of one collapsible storage container over another, when all of a sudden I realized that if I didn't find a toilet right. that. very. minute, things were going to get all kinds of emergency ugly in my pants.

So I stashed our basket at the end of an aisle, ("Mama! Someone will take it!" "Nobody is going to take it!"), grabbed my kid's hand, and started dragging him towards the bathroom.

"Where are we going?"

"I have to find a bathroom!"

"I don't want to go! Someone will take our stuff!"

STARTING TO PANIC, HOPING I HAVE ENOUGH TIME.

"Nobody will take it! Come with me!"

"I don't want to go! I want to stay!"

DRAGGING CHILD, CLENCHING ANAL SPHINCTER, BREAKING INTO COLD SWEAT.

"Come on, honey."

"I don't...."

"COME! NOW!"

Picture me practically running, Jordan horizontal flying through the store, clinging to the end of my hand.

We arrived at the bathroom and the air hand dryer was blowing like a jet plane taking off and Jordan covered his ears, turning to leave, "It's too loud!"

"It's fine! Get in here with me!"

So there we were, face to face in a stall, me hovering in the air because there weren't paper thingies to put on the seat.

I was so very, very thankful to have made it in time. Dear Lord. Thank goodness. When...

"MAMA! YOU'RE POOPING! YOU ARE POOPING! LOOK! YOU'RE HAVING A POO POO!"

I put my finger to my lips, and very quietly said, "Shhhh."

So he downgraded to a whisper really just a degree below shouting. "YOU'RE STILL POOPING! YOU ARE POOPING!"

It feels good to be back.

Wednesday, July 03, 2013

When your heart not only walks around outside your body but alternately totters unsteadily and sprints in 57 different directions and wears cutie pie hats

You know, sometimes I need a reminder that I have it really, really good.

Yesterday I was home with both kids, and it was a grey, muggy, rainy, steamy day. We walked to the park and it started to pour. We headed home, to the chagrin of India.

But before the rain, I snapped this photo. My sweet boy, taking his sister's hand, excited to head to the playground.

India has the cutest hats - multiple hats, because we keep misplacing hers - and Jordan always likes them better than his (even though his is camouflage and pretty awesome). So when I bought him the pink butterfly hat in Denver, he was delighted.

He's still young enough to love the purple Crocs he chose himself. To love the fun-colored hat. To not realize that there are stereotypically boy and girl colors.

I know this will change, and one day he'll likely be embarrassed that I let him go out in public like that. And one day they won't want to hold each other's hands, or mine, or Nick's, or Nana's, for that matter.

But I need to remind myself that these days are beautiful. And this is where my heart lives.

Tuesday, July 02, 2013

We're the kids in America

Last week Nick had a conference in Denver.

We were there for five days. We flew direct out of National. Denver is a lovely city. We stayed in a nice hotel. The tap water tasted great. We ate all our meals in restaurants of one sort or another.

It was the hardest trip of my life.

I say this without exaggeration. I say this as someone who has ridden on sketchy buses in the Andes, buses with drivers desperate to pass the next bus on a blind turn, buses with questionable brakes. I say this as someone who has ridden on the top of those buses, figuring that if the bus went over the side of the eroding road, straight down the mountain, I might be able to leap to my salvation.

I say this as someone who has spent a month trekking in Nepal, from where the road ends to the top of Kala Pattar, just before Base Camp, at 18,192 feet, and back. We slept in tea houses heated by yak dung, which, FYI, is a not-awesome heat source. It's hard to breathe at altitude such as that. We were so cold I didn't take off my clothes - any of them, including my hat - for an entire week.

And still, travel with my daughter, my love, my hurricane, was more exhausting, more challenging.

That said, this trip was also fantastic.

For one thing, Jordan has become a wonderful traveler. He was delightful. He was delighted.

We got to see Maude and Wendy and their families, and Jordan and Maude's son totally hit it off. That was such a joy. Really, the trip for him was magic.

Because, oh, because so many things.

The incredible Denver Children's Museum, which has a whole fire engine and so many amazing rooms of activities and why why oh why, why don't we have one of those here in DC?
The MONSTER TRUCK parked right outside our hotel. A MONSTER TRUCK. A REAL LIVE MONSTER TRUCK, WHICH CAN DRIVE OVER OTHER CARS AND SMASH THEM!
Balloons! Dear Lord do we love balloons!
The pool! Which was cold! So we hung out in towels with our friends!
 Hiding in the lobby. Annoying other patrons. Generally acting like Eloise at the Plaza.
 Sunglasses. And toy monster truck.
Lunch at the Old Spaghetti Factory, which used to be a train station, and where you can sit and have lunch with your new pal Benji in an actual old trolley car!
And last but not least, the airplane! The window seat! THE AIRPLANE THE RUNWAY THE TAKEOFF THE AIRPLANE, MAMA!
Magic, I tell you.