Owen Might Be a Redneck

You might be a redneck if you sit on the pot in the middle of the living room while watching the tube and munching on a snack. Yep, that would be Owen right about now. We're attempting to enter into the potty training phase, so I adopted the practices of my BFF Jo, allowing Owen to sit on his potty while watching a show. The only problem is that Owen is perfectly content sitting naked on his potty for hours at a time without actually pottying. Do you think I might have a problem? Neil was telling me about this lady featured on The Today Show yesterday who potty trains most children in a day. Clearly she knows something we don't. Neil is convinced we're doing it all wrong, which might be correct since we're raising a nudist at this point. But what am I supposed to do, drive Owen up to NJ, or where ever she's from, and pay out the wazoo to have her train him. I think not.

I suppose I could read more books on the subject, but that would require time, and we all know how little of that I have. You know, I used to be one of those people who didn't understand why 3 year olds were running around in diapers. Now I get it. It's hard work and takes discipline, and not so much from the kids, but the parents. And if they don't want to go potty, then why would I spend most of my day fighting with him to do something he clearly doesn't want to do?

On the other hand, I can't tell you how tired I am of changing his diapers. Blake is one story because I know he's still a baby. It frustrates me to all get out to know that Owen can go potty, he just doesn't want too. AArrgghhghh!

So I am at a crossroads, deciding which direction to go. Do I take a left and commit myself and Owen to nip this thing in the bud, or a right and let him do it when he's ready, or go straight and pay someone else to do it (not really an option, but I needed a straight)? I'm open to suggestions if you have any that aren't trite or common sensical, or require me to read another book.

WE GOT PICKED!

Kelly just emailed me, like 5 minutes ago, and we were chosen to be on "Get It Sold." YAY!!!! Now we just have to work out dates around camp. You guys can keep the scheduling in your prayers. Okay, now I really need to go clean the house and get ready for the 1 pm showing.

Operation Sell Home Update

I'm anxiously awaiting news from "Get It Sold." Hopefully we'll be chosen for the first episode, and how awesome would it be to here a go ahead today? Crossing fingers, or in God-speak, praying away.

However, I do have a couple updates. We have two showings scheduled today. The first will be here from 1-2, like they really stay an hour, but that's how long I have to find something to do with the boys. The second are actually repeat visitors from Friday. They are trying to decided between two homes. Woo Hoo, propects galore. During the second showing, between 5 & 6, Neil and I will be meeting our realtors at a house in Savage to see if it would be a potential new home for us. It needs some work, but we're not sure how much, hence the showing. One of our realtors flips homes and will be able to help us determine what needs to be done in order to rehab it from it's current state.

So good updates, yay. Now if Kelly from "Get It Sold" would call with some news to send this day over the top. Oops, gotta go before Owen turns the carpet into a playdough playground. Why is it that they decide to trash the place exactly when you don't want it trashed?

For Those of You Who Use Huggies...

If you have no need for diapers, then simply disregard this post. But if you're like me, spending your child's college fund on diapers, then this deal might come in handy.

If you use Huggies, I'm sure you have a couple $1.00 coupons saved up. You'll need 3 for this deal. Go to CVS this week and buy 3 Jumbo packs for $7.99 each. Use your coupons, making them $6.99 a pack. See, I can do math. Then go here and download the Huggies $5 rebate. For brand name diapers, this is a sweet deal.

Now I have to give credit where credit is due. I found this deal through Baby Cheapstake, but since I'm retarded and can't find the link right now, you'll have to settle for googling the name (or Jo might be reading and can tell you how to sign up.)

This is not my "real" post for today, I promise!

Busy Days

Camp is just under a month away, literally by a day, and we're gearing up for an exciting summer. Our staff is hired, the curriculum is done, and the shopping list compiled. It's all coming together. So why are all the butterflies in my tummy coming out of hibernation. It's like they've had Red Bull for breakfast. Granted, it could just be the baby growing inside me, but really I think it's nerves. Of course I trust that everything that is supposed to happen will happen. Right now, Michelle and I are scrutinizing the budget in order to find money to buy the rest of our supplies. Really, if a few more kids would just sign up, we'd be solid. Let's just all trust that 10 more kids register for camp in the next week. Did you guys get that? Don't forget to add it to your prayer list. Good, now that we're done with that part, I'll tell you about our work day today. 25 people, mostly high school students, will be gathering up at the church in just over an hour from now to build benches and paint decorations. How exciting is that? We even have a camp parent and two campers joining us, and most of our staff. Side note: our staff is AWESOME! I can't wait, which is probably why I'm buying time writing to you all.

Update on Operation Sell Home: We had TWO showings last night, yippee! We haven't heard back from "Get It Sold" yet, but she did say it'd take a few days. I'm thinking we should hear something by Monday.

Gearing up for an all around hot and sticky day. Did I happen to sleep through June and July? Is it already August? What's up with the weather? And if you say global warming, I'll hurl. Literally, it's so muggy outside, I can see the humidity. It looks like fog, but feels like your walking through a cotton candy machine.

If you read my Dad's blog, I hope to update it today. Sorry I was MIA yesterday.

Owen Update: After 45 minutes of sitting on his potty while watching Diego & Backyardigans, and drinking tea and water, Owen FINALLY pee peed in his potty. There's nothing more exciting to a mommy than the prospect of changing one less diaper...only this morning he refuses to sit on the potty (rolling eyes).

Hollywood or Bust?

Kelly from Edleman Productions, "Get It Sold" came by to meet with us today. Unlike our visit with the "Designed to Sell" scout, Kelly seemed excited to have us on their show. We won't know for sure for a couple of days, but lets hope we won them over. How cool would that be? Not only would be get to be on the show, but we get professional staging and all that entails for FREE. I love free. It's my favorite price point.

If we're selected, crossing fingers as I type (which takes some talent), we're also hoping to be chosen for their first show starting June 16th. Otherwise, we'll have to wait until August since I have this thing called camp happening all July. They require 4 filming days during the week, of which I'll need to find a place for the boys to go. Once I know the dates, assuming we get picked, I'll let you know and if any of you can take the boys for a day or two, you can let me know.

Keep your fingers crossed!

Struggling

Grief comes in waves. I know this because I experience it. Some days I go about my life and end up just fine. And other days, like today, I find it hard to think without the grief taking over. I've been thinking about my dad a lot lately, and today ventured over to his blog to see what was going on. Not that I expected to find a new post, but I miss connecting with his readers like I did those few weeks in Georgia. I'd like to keep it updated, but I don't honestly know what to say, so I asked them to fill me in. I received several emails from dad's faithful readers, and as I opened them, I allowed the pain to seep in and the tears to flow. I guess I just really miss him, and still can't believe that he's gone. I was there. I saw him lying lifeless in that hospital bed and I still can't seem to wrap my mind around the fact that my dad is gone. So tonight I am struggling to even regain my composure, not like I have to since I'm already snuggled down into bed.

A fellow Warrior, Manual, called Dad his muse and since his passing has struggled with the inspiration to write in his own blog (where he chronicles his battle with kidney cancer). I get that. I write because my dad flat out told me to. How can I betray that? And someday soon I hope to pursue a dream to become a professional writer, again because my dad told me to (or maybe it was that he gave me permission to.) Either way, I've found passion in writing, and I just wish my dad were here so I could say, "thank you." "Thank you for giving me a swift kick in the arse." I still remember it clear as day. He looked up at me from his bed and said, "You're good. If you want to write, then write. Stop piddling around." It seems like such common sense, right? But it wasn't the words that were spoken, but the man who was speaking them. It was the affirmation I needed. If David Foster thinks you have talent, then maybe, just maybe, you have a foundation to build on. And how much more does that mean when David Foster is your dad?

The more time that passes, the more I miss him. Is that really possible? I thought grief would fade in time. That doesn't seem to be the case. Of course, maybe time is not the issue. It could be a lack of dealing in reality. I've had my share of distractions lately. This is true. So for now, I'll just let the tears come when they choose, and in those moments, I'll write - for that is what he would have wanted me to do (except minus all the mushy stuff).

Thanks for tuning in and listening to my rants - which are more like therapy.

Operation Sell Home Goes Hollywood (maybe)

Some of you might remember when we applied to be on "Designed to Sell" on the HGTV network. That didn't work out because our house was too "done" when they came to scout our house, but they liked us and thought we'd be a great family to be on the show. A couple months later a woman from "Get It Sold," also a HGTV show, called me to find out if we'd be interested in being on their show. This was shortly after I returned home from Georgia and at that point we weren't sure what we wanted to do: sell, stay, give up all our possessions to the poor and become gypsies? I was supposed to send new pics of the house, but just never got around to it. I figured it was a lost cause...until yesterday. I got an email from another producer at "Get It Sold" who asked if we were still interested. Of course we are. It's a no brainer: get to be on television and a better chance at selling our house. I sent her a link to our listing (so I didn't have to take all new pictures) and profusely apologized for my pregnancy brain, and she said she'd see us on Thursday for an on camera interview to see if we (and the house) make the cut. Isn't that cool?

As per usual I have to play devil's advocate with myself for a moment. If our house was too done for "Designed to Sell" and we've done major improvements since then, how will it not be too done for "Get It Sold?" I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I know one thing though: I won't make sure the house is immaculate when she comes, and I might even rearrange a few things to make it look more junky. Do you think Neil would mind bringing a load back from the storage unit? Yeah, that might be asking a bit much. Maybe I should try and tone down the manipulation...any ideas? Oh and since she's coming at 12 on Thursday, I guess that means I either can't go to Pilate's or I need to cut my class short. Oh wait, tomorrow is Thursday. Wow, that is sooner than I thought.

Daily Cute Child Story: Did I tell you guys that Blake turned a year? I guess I did since I told you we got Owen a new seat for Blake's birthday. Good, now that's out of the way, I have a cute story for you. Yesterday I walked into the playroom to find Blake drinking out of Ashleigh's cup. I know, what's cute about that? He's a kid. All kids drink from each other's cups (and eat of the floor for that matter). I know, that's not the cute part. The cute part was that he was standing on his own holding the cup with both hands for all of 10 seconds. It's not the first time he's stood on his own, but it is the longest. When he was done, he simply placed the cup back on the table, plopped down on the floor, and crawled over to me. I don't even think he realized what he was doing. I'm hoping he'll walk in the next week or so; never been a fan of the crawling faze.

Could You Please Press the Pause Button?

Owen watches this show on Noggin called the "Upside Down Show." There is no use explaining it if you're not familiar with it, but just so you get the gist, it's interactive and the kids watching pretend they have a remote control and press the buttons they are told to press. Now, as a mom, I think it's a pretty ridiculous show, but Owen is infatuated with it and Blake is infatuated with Owen which leaves me a little time to talk to you guys. As I'm sitting here I'm thinking it'd be quite fabulous to have a remote control for my life, and at times like this, I really fell like just hitting the pause button...not forever, just long enough to have a full 24 hours to myself.

I'd start off my day with a nice cup of coffee and a bit of Fox & Friends. Then I'd head off to the gym for Pilate's, a nice lunch with a friend (who is also pressing the pause button), and finish off the afternoon (what would normally be nap time) at the spa for a massage, facial, and pedicure. For dinner, I'd meet Neil for a date at our favorite Italian restaurant, Pasta Plus, where we'd converse about non-kid, non-house topics. After dinner we'd retire home where there would be some nooky nooky, followed by a couple chick flicks while lounging on the couch. Of course, Neil wouldn't stick around for the chick flicks, so he'd be in the backroom watching MacGyver reruns on the Mac. I'd crawl into bed sometime around 11 (I know, late for me) where I'd sleep allergy free all night...until I heard a faint "mmmooommmmmmy" coming from somewhere inside the house. As I slowly began to regain consciousness, I'd realize that this sound was not faint at all, but was also accompanied by banging, stomping, and "I want a snack." I'd turn over to find Neil off to the gym, and my 24 hours over. Someone had pressed the play button. Oh well, at least I had the time I had, and now I'd ready to face whatever the day will bring.

No matter how great that all sounds, we all know what would inevitably happen. Eventually I'd start to miss the kids, and most of the conversations I'd have would revolve entirely around them or the new baby in my belly. It's just who we are as moms. Even when I get together with my friends here (& there are no kids around) we're telling stories about the preposterous things they did that day or what new and queasy feelings we're having in our pregnancies. Oh and the birth stories. Get a bunch of moms in a room and one pregnant lady, and you'll have the pleasure of hearing more birth stories than you'd ever have wished for. Don't worry, I'm not complaining, I'm the biggest culprit of all. Just making an observation.

My friend Angela asked me yesterday if the pregnancy has been a good distraction from the pain of losing my dad. To be honest, I feel like it's been more of a distraction than I'd like. Couple the pregnancy with selling the house, and I don't have time to think about paying the bills, much less dealing with the death of my dad. Sure, it hits me at times. The other day, "Be Thou My Vision" came on the radio. I just heard the beginning of it and quickly turned it off, but it was too late. My mind and heart had already traveled back to the memorial service. I fought back the tears, and luckily was interrupted by Owen's shenanigans in the car (which is another story I need to tell you). Don't get my wrong, I get that distraction is a natural coping mechanism that keeps us from dwelling on the negative, but is there such a thing as too much distraction? I don't know the answer, but it would seem to be true in my own life. I also know that God doesn't give me more than I can handle, with his strength of course. So with that said, do I really need to press the pause button? It would be nice though, wouldn't it?

P.S. Totally off topic, but I feel compelled to share this story. For Blake's birthday, we got Owen a new booster seat so Blake could have Owen's old seat (& face forward). Most boosters are 40 lbs+, but we thought this would be great, so we didn't have to buy a $80 seat for Blake and then a booster seat for Owen next year. Basically the seat uses the car's seat belt, and let's just say Owen can reach the red button. I'm driving down Whiskey Bottom talking to Michelle on the phone, and I see something move out of the corner of my eye. I turn to find Owen standing next to my seat. Do the words "freak out" mean anything to you? I quickly hung up with Michelle and pulled the car over, put Owen back into his seat and thanked God we didn't wreck in the process. Luckily for me, I had a set of Bamboo spoons in the car from a recent Pampered Chef order. They make great spanky sticks. Needless to say, the rule is now, "don't press the red button." If you do, you automatically get a spank on the hand. I wish I could say that was the last time I caught Owen without his seat belt on, but I can say that the frequency of said events are diminishing. Yesterday, we had a full day of no seat spankings. Now that is victory. If only I could convince Neil to set the example instead of fighting with me to put on his own seat belt. Yes I said Neil, not Owen. He has this thing about seat belts...part of his stubborn streak. I don't think he gets how closely Owen watches him, even when it doesn't seem like it. Maybe you guys could start a campaign to get Neil to wear his seat belt.

The Great Debate

I love a good debate, especially when I win. But when you're debating with yourself, how do you decide who wins? Yesterday was our open house. We busted our butts to get our home ready to be showed. I even baked cookies, but to no avail. No one came. Do you know what this means? The house is clean, and we need to lower our price. The question remains...by how much? This brings me to the self versus self debate, but not over the price itself, but how much I really want to move.

Putting the house on the market was a leap of faith for us. If it sells, then it's clear that God wants us to stay here, but if it doesn't, then there's a different path for us out there, possibly including a migration south. In theory, this is a great plan, a test of our faith. In reality, it feels more like tug-a-war, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to end up in the mud pit considering I'm on both sides of the rope. It all boils down to stability. I want to be where I'm going to be. Wouldn't it be much easier if I could just make an appointment with God, like I do to get my hair done, and he'd just tell me what the future holds for us? Yes, that would be nice, but there is a reason God is not a fortune teller, because if I knew the whole picture, I'd probably run for cover. Seriously, if God had told me 6 months ago that I'd lose my dad and get pregnant with my third child in the same month, I would have tried desperately to avoid both. Who wouldn't? So in that sense, I get why he doesn't tell us everything, but right now, I'm frustrated, scared, and confused...and being the control freak that I am, these are not secure feelings for me.

I'll keep you posted on the inward debate, but for now I'm going to rush off to the gym and then off shopping with a friend. Enjoy your day!