We are moved.  Two weeks later, I have found most of what I "lost" while we spent seven months in the cabin...the potato masher, the cooling racks, pictures and wall hangings, drawers (you know...someplace for utensils and wraps and miscellaneous objects), the dehumidifier (completely unnecessary in the cabin), organization, the memory of some sort of order in my home, and a dishwasher...ahhh, the dishwasher.  I forgot how much time that magic machine saved.  Boxes still line the walls of my dining room...but I figure I packed a few of them more than seven months ago.  If they've been packed that long...another week won't make a difference, will it?  Interestingly, I thought that since much of what was hiding in that storage unit had hidden there for seven months, I could probably live without most of it.  If I haven't used it for that long, could I possibly need it?

Yep.  I could.

I'm not a knick-knacky person.  I prefer simplicity and the occasional candle.  For the most part, ideally, I like uncluttered surfaces, pictures on my walls, and things where they belong.  But.  There are things I need to have in my house.  A few gifts I've received over the years.  Things the kids have made for me.  Magnets on my fridge.  Certain book ends.  Albums.  These have remained in boxes the past few months.  I forgot how much I missed them.  And the option of choosing from 5 mixing bowls that are the same size.  Serving dishes that work so well with dishes I love to make.  So silly.  Really.  I know this.  But I have 22 cabinets, 8 drawers, a pantry/linen closet, and 7 cabinets in my laundry room off the kitchen.  I have plenty of space for those extra dishes!!  And the knick knacks?  Once I find them...:)...I will find homes for them.  And with all of the school stuff going into the classroom, and not in the living space...even less clutter. 

Life is good.

It has been quite the adventure around here, though.  You would think that moving 30 minutes closer to town would allow the opportunity to move within cell service range...nope.  Apparently our house lies within the quarter-mile dead zone.  Drive a quarter mile in either direction, and I can use my internet service and my cell phone.  However, since I live in the dead zone, that means we had to aquire phone and internet service...which proved to be more complicated than we expected...involving non-activated activations and dead lines and a disconnection after the initial connection (10 days later), as well as being told that we couldn't get DSL here at the house...then being told we could...then being told there were errors in the line, and it would be another five days.  Today...almost 3 weeks later...we got hooked up.  We have a phone, we have an internet connection, and I feel like a human again.  A human who has an opportunity to make a phone call to someone if one of my kids has an accident...

:)

The move...happened over about 11 days...we got the last load from the cabin on Wednesday, I think.  We had the (nasty, stinky, ridiculously gross) carpets cleaned on Wednesday as well (we got to watch the disgusting water coming out of the carpets into the downstairs bathroom toilet, and were SO glad we had them cleaned), and when we got home from our Memorial Day weekend at my parents', we were able to take all the furniture off the styrofoam blocks and move a few boxes to their respective rooms (mostly the classroom and the girls' room).  I am blown away by the amount of CRAP my children possess...they still have boxes filled with books and toys that we haven't decided how we will handle...I really think that the next time we move, I am going to require that life just stop for two weeks.  No school, no activities, no sports, no trips out of town...everything will be unpacked, organized and perfect, with no stress and no craziness.  He he...yeah, I know.  Nice thought anyway.  Life goes on.  So we unpack a little more slowly.  Whatever.  We live 12 minutes from Walmart, 16 minutes from the mall, 13 minutes from the gym, 14 minutes from the dojo and Wegmans, and 13 minutes from Church.  Yesterday we found a better shortcut to the gym/dojo/Wegman's/church (although, on the way home using said short cut, I hit my first deer...poor deer.  Barely even dented my hood, but she was toast.  Ugh).  Quite the change from the 45 minutes to the dojo/Wegmans from the cabin.  So great.

Funny story...the second night we were here...Reasa and Lainie were suddenly standing beside my bed in the middle of the night.  "Mommy, I think there's a bear at the door."  I reassured both of them that there was no bear at the door...it was probably the neighborhood cat or a bat or something...and then, suddenly, there was a "bang bang" downstairs.  I turned and said, "Seth?" and he was already getting out of bed...loading his gun, and going downstairs.  He checked around, looking all over the place...and finally opened the front door.  Nothing.  Interestingly, it was at that moment that I remembered that we had been in the basement with the dogs before bed, and that I asked Seth to close the basement door before we went to bed--the girls' room is right across the hall from the steps, and I didn't want them to choose the wrong door and take a fall down the steps when they meant to go into the bathroom.  I yelled down to Seth, "Did the dogs get left in the basement??" and suddenly heard the same "bang bang"...followed by the door opening, and the dogs barrelling up the steps, howling and barking and Chani jumping all over the place, so glad to finally be free.  Chani was banging on the door, wanting to get out.  Turned out our first bear...was a 7.5 pound black bear...of the cairn terrier type. 

Oh, and we officially had 5 female toads lay eggs in our pond at the bottom of the water fall last week...and the darn things hatch so quickly, I didn't get to move any of them to the pond at the bottom of the hill before they all hatched and took over our entire pond while we were gone for the weekend.  Holy heck, we have millions of them.  Pretty sure they're going to destroy the pond...but Bryson is absolutely in his glory.  :)  So worth it.  And I have to say...explaining how toads mate...much less painful than having to explain other animals mating.  The perfect first conversation...Phew. 

So, thanks for being patient while I was internet-less.  Thanks for asking where I was!!  Here I am!!  :)  So glad to be back...and so glad to be here. 

I love this house.

Now to figure out the pool.

Tomorrow, we start moving into our house.  Or, rather, the house that will be ours.  It will be ours.  I haven't really let myself believe that up until this point.  But tonight, I'm letting myself believe it.  And not really because I have any real proof...or any more than I did over the past few weeks...but more because tomorrow is Mother's Day.  Tomorrow is my day.  And I get to start moving into my house tomorrow.

We won't have power.  And I'll be taking the kids to church and coming back here to pack while Seth starts taking loads of crap over to the house.  And we'll still technically live here most of the week this week...but we can get started.  And on Monday, the power comes on, I can finish cleaning the kitchen (and the rest of the house), schedule carpet cleanings and dish transfer and internet/phone hook-up and so on and so forth...and we can begin our lives with a much shorter commute, a much more convenient space...and a happy, happy mommy. 

What a good Mother's Day gift.

To my dear, sweet, amazing Mommalee...I love you.  Wish we could be closer all the time.  You are my hero.  Happy Mother's Day.

I drove to Karate yesterday with my boy in the passenger's seat next to me.  Though I realize many of you are appalled that my 7-year-old sits in the passenger's seat in my little Focus...please understand that we could either have children "at risk" in the front seat with the passenger's side air bag (and the seat pushed and tilted and leaned far, far back), or we could have children "at risk" with Mommy losing her mind because the three children sit crammed dangerously close in the back seat, fighting every single moment of every single trip...the shortest of which is 30 minutes, no matter where we drive.  So.  We have a wonderful, rotating front-seat-riding system amongst the children.  It is an amazing blessing.  So, anyway...my boy in the passenger's seat next to me.

In front of my boy sat open a book.  With actual words in it.  Probably 40 words on a page.  And he sat there reading it.  Silently.  All of a sudden, I heard him giggle.  And then he turned the page. 

I fought tears.  Really.  I mean, I was driving.  Crying while driving doesn't work real well...I know, I've done it...and then you add to the driving part the fact that Bryson hates when I get emotional over him, and tears really weren't an option.  He reads.  By himself.  And he understands what he reads.  Enough that he laughs.  And then he turns the page.  To keep reading.   

My kid rocks.  A month and a half ago, he couldn't read "Ted sat."  I mean, he could, but he wouldn't.  Now, he can read literally anything you put in front of him.  And he still acts so surprised each time he comes up with something.  "Mom!" he'll say.  "I know what that sign says!!"  And he'll read it to me.  And I'll tell him he rocks.  And he gets all mad at me. (He can't stand when I make a big deal out of him reading or writing or doing his math well or spelling words he doesn't really know.  So, at this point, I try very hard not to point out when I notice these things.  Well, that's sort of true.  Sometimes I gush and gush and make him so mad, but I don't care.  I keep telling him he has pride issues and he needs to get over it.  Like he understands what that means...but he's getting a little better about me telling him he rocks).  And he reads crazy things to me...and spells ridiculous words (with the most awesome inventive spellings).  He was making a Mii on the Wii today and decided, of course, to name it Luigi, after the character on Mario Brothers, and he spelled it Looweejee.  Well, duh.  :)  And you know, if the English language didn't have so many stupid rules, that would probably be exactly how we would spell that word.  I could hardly contain myself.  He had not only included the main consonant sounds...but he had vowels, and he even included blends that he knows.  Blends I have barely taught him, mind you.  I have mentioned them as he has encountered them in our reading together, but we have almost never had actual lessons on blends.

I knew he would read eventually.  It terrified me to think that he turned seven and still wouldn't read.  To have a 4-year-old and a 5-year-old both reading in kindergarten...at more like a 2nd grade level...before the school year came close to ending...then to have a 7-year-old who couldn't even tell me what sound "v" makes...my teacher/mommy heart just broke!!  And it made me furious--I was sure I was failing him.  And I was sure that he was just refusing to learn and remember what he needed to know to read...like it was a conscious choice.  He is so bright.  So bright.  He just wouldn't read. 

Interestingly, this is the same child who wouldn't talk.  He didn't begin to say anything other than a handful of words until he was 4 months shy of turning 3.  (Interestingly, it was the same month he finally said goodbye to his "bink."  Took that thing out of his mouth, and he had something to say).  And he talked all at once, much like his big sister, except with less to say.  He is a boy after all.  He spoke his piece, though...and made his voice heard very effectively.  Very late.  I don't know why I was so taken aback when he did the same thing with reading. 

About three months ago, I read him a story called Leo the Late Bloomer.  Leo is a lion who just can't seem to get it together.  He can't read like his friends, he can't draw like his friends, he can't write like his friends.  And his very concerned Dad is watching...pretending not to watch...but watching.  His mom assures his dad that Leo will bloom, in his time...and Leo does.  And Dad is so relieved.  Bryson kind of shrugged the book off...he knew he just wasn't ready to read yet.  He hated that I was trying to make a point in all of this--it didn't bother him that he couldn't read, except that he knew how much it bothered me.  It was that moment I realized I had to let it go.  I realized pushing wasn't doing any good...it embarrassed him and frustrated him, but it didn't make him read.  I still made him do his Explode the Code work, we still read together, we still looked at the sight words I wanted him to remember (the same 15 words we've been working on since September that he just couldn't get to stay in his brain), he still listened in on the history lessons and everything else the girls and I were doing together, I still fought the urge to force him to do it...but I stopped pushing him to read.  And very shortly after that, I started catching him at rest time with a book on his bed.  And the girls started telling me that they had helped Bryson with a word he didn't know.  And he started telling me about signs he could read.  Or words on TV or food packages. 

He bloomed. 

I am so proud of him.  I love watching him grow as he reads.  Watching him do it without being asked.  Watching him giggle at a joke he got without one of us telling it to him. 

Sigh.  I'm so relieved.  My boy reads.  And he rocks at it. 

...we're signing a rental agreement.

After all of that, it looks like it might all come together.  In the meantime, we know that we have to move out of here...that right now, we're overstaying our welcome.  That the sooner we can vacate the premises, the better, as far as our landlords are concerned--though they are being wonderful about letting us stay until we have someplace to live.  We are so thankful for their generosity in that respect.  And really, they made it clear that it's fine...it's just frustrating for us, more than anything, to know that we should have been moved out two months ago, and yet...here we are.  With that in mind, in our pre-conference call discussions, we pretty much agreed that, after praying for wisdom and clarity during the conversation, we were going to feel the homeowner out, and if it sounded like they had their ducks in a row, we were going to agree to sign a rental agreement.  Then we got a call from our realtor--the verbal offer we made on the other house...the beautiful one we looked at on Friday...had been accepted by the owners.  This after the call we got from a different bank than the one we have been dealing with saying that even given the current market and the mortgage situation being what it is, we could get a mortgage from then for the full amount of the house (minus what we have down) and we could get PMI, meaning we didn't have to come up with 20% of the purchase price of the house in the form of a down-payment before they would give us the mortgage.  Interesting.  Yesterday, we couldn't get the loan without the full 20% down, couldn't offer on the house, and couldn't get the house for which we already have a mortgage secured.  Today, we have the loan, we have an accepted offer, and we have the house we wanted to freaking begin with. 

Don't get me wrong...I'm not complaining.

Choices are good things, right??

We decided to sign the rental agreement with the owners of the brown house (which we were able to write).  As soon as we figure out what our current landlord will let us do here (hopefully allow us to only pay for the time we stay in this house this month, and give us the rest back...then pay the month's rent in the other place starting on the date we move in (which the brown house's owners told us was fine)), we will solidify that date, and the owners will sign the agreement, and WE'LL MOVE!!! 

Kind of surreal at this point.

I had given up on the brown house (umm, could you tell?).  Apparently, God didn't. 

Now.  All of that said...I'm still a bit leery.  It's scary to think that after all this running around, after the nightmare we've kind of lived over the past two and a half months...we're trusting these people to pull it all together.  I know that things happen.  Things creep up over which you have no control and all you can do is go with it.  Figure it out.  Do the best you can.  I get it.  I've been there.  At the same time...I still don't entirely trust that all is going to go smoothly during this process.  As well as we think we've covered ourselves, we could still get the short end of the stick.  However...I'm going to have faith that no matter what, God has it all under control.  He has a plan about which I know nothing.  We both feel very confident that this is the decision we should make.  That has not always been a perfect indicator for us...but you have to go with it in the meantime.  If you'd like to join us in praying again, here's what I'm very specifically praying: (1) Our landlords would let us leave this weekend.  And refund a good-sized chunk of this month's rent.  (2) The owners of the brown house would sign the agreement and get it back to us in a timely manner, so that we can move as soon as possible.  (3) Their money issue would be quickly resolved--by the end of this month, ideally--so that we can close on this house and not have to worry about our mortgage concerns (we're paying to keep the rate locked in right now, and each month that passes, it's a good-sized chunk of change we just plain old lose).  (4) We would be able to move out of this place and start living our lives again.  Big requests?  Yes.  I know.  But I serve a pretty big God.  I think he can handle it.  And really, when it comes down to it, we're praying that his will would be done.  And if my will doesn't line up with his...I don't want it anyway.  It's wonderful to think that I should always get my way...but it's not really what I want...if it's not what He wants.

You have been so patient through this whole process, friends.  If you have been praying, thank you.  Really.  Thank you.  I so appreciate you.  As usual...I'll keep you posted.

...9:00 conference call with the owners of the brown house...

...we shall see...

...oh...and an interesting phone call from a different bank about a mortgage...

...hmmm...

(sorry, Stac...forgot capitals)

There is no real news.  Well, there is news, but no real progress.  Today, we submitted a new application for a pre-approval on a mortgage we would like to get, and signed paperwork to submit an official offer on another house, along with paperwork to request a return of the money we put down as earnest money on our first purchase offer on the brown house.  We chose, however, to hold off on submitting the offer...until we get the pre-approval.  Something about having the potential of a big chunk of money out there...and having problems with getting any of that back along the way...and somebody else possessing any of the earnest money we have put on either of the houses...just not appealing.  So...we wait.

Have I mentioned how bad I am at waiting??

(Capital letters in this post in honor of my friend, Stacy.  :) )

Just want to remind you all...today is May Day!  Honor someone you love (or some random neighbor who will be more than tickled by your gift) with a May Basket on their door!  Let the tradition live on!

:)

Wishing my mom's front door was closer to my own...