Quickly - laptop is still on sick leave (we sent it flowers yesterday) and I am typing on this ridiculously old (so 2004) PC that is too slow and has a mouse with a mind of its own. There will probably be no new posts until the laptop is returned to us (shiny and healthy!) but I did want to say -- WE CLOSED ON THE HOUSE YESTERDAY!!!!!!!!!  Hold on to your seats, though, because things are still...not...yet...done. Apparently, there are some HOA leins on the property the seller has to take care, but we don't even know the demands right now. So...no keys for us just yet.

Because she is awesome, the Whippersnapper looked at me yesterday as soon as the woman from the title company left the room (as Brian and I were massaging our aching hands from all of the signing) and said, "Your water just broke. This baby hasn't come into the world just yet, but it's coming. Soon. Just hold tight." I seriously wanted to hug her in that moment. Taking my analogy and pushing it one step farther? Awe-some. Thank you, Whippersnapper.

And I swear, when she said that, my back actually started to ache. It's like housing back labor. Eek. Seriously, though, hopefully things will be all sorted out by next week and we will have the keys to our new house! I can't wait to start packing.

Have a great weekend everyone! :-)

Brian is going to kill me...

Making your own homemade baby food is far more expensive and time-consuming than you expect. Let me break down the numbers for you:

$4.99 x 2: little plastic bin-thingy that you pour the pureed baby food in

$9.99: how-to-make-your-own-baby-food book the woman at Williams-Sonoma talks you into buying, complete with very pretty, glossy pictures

$179.99: the shiny stainless--steel steamer pot that you buy, also at Williams-Sonoma, because it is well, shiny. And pretty. And matches your other cookwear. 

$29.99: Cuisinart coffee bean grinder that will allow you to grind your own (wholesome, organic) grains

 

$13: cost of organic brown rice

$8: cost of 2 lbs of organic sweet peas (unshelled)

$9: cost of 3 lbs of organic yams

 

$6: cost of 3 rather small organic zucchini

$26: the cost of the salad you put together while wandering through Whole Foods, because at this point, you are starving and everything looks delicious on their salad bar. You also forget that they charge you per pound, and you somehow lumped 5 lbs worth of salad goodness into one of those little organic brown trays. 



4 hours: amount of time it takes you to dirty every single appliance in your kitchen, including a cutting board, the steamer, the mixer, the food processor and then finally, the blender (used as a last resort since nothing else was working). 

 

30 minutes: amount of time it will take you to scrape off the steamed zucchini from your ceiling after you forget to put the lid on the blender


$70: the cost for updated anti-virus protection that your husband buys for the laptop computer, after you were unable to find the directions to the Cuisinart food processor and tried to download a video to your computer thus infecting the laptop



3 hours: amount of time your husband will spend trying to fix the laptop, only to declare it ‘dead.’


$299.99: what it will cost you for the Geek Squad at Best Buy to fix your laptop, including running diagnostics, virus removal and then adding new protection.

priceless: spooning those damn organic peas (the ones that took you 2 hours to shell, steam and then mash by hand, because you never did figure out how to work the food processor) into your baby's open, expectant little mouth and then be rewarded with the biggest smile ever.

 

Somebody loves peas! J

 

(Amie, this blog entry is for you).

I have been SO bad about jotting down my thoughts for this season of the Bachelor, so I am taking the time now (10:09pm), while the child sleeps and the husband works to type this. I am choosing to forgo the bottles soaking in the sink and the milk sitting on the table in order to write this up.

People, it would be much easier if you all just came over to my house every Monday night so we could talk about this face-to-face. But that's not going to happen -- I don't know who some of you are and we only have seating for four - so this review will have to suffice.

Rozlyn! Michele! Chris Harrison! Tenley and Disney characters! (best quote of the night -- the chick with the red flower in her hair: "I think Tenley fell out of a Disney movie." I totally agree with this - in fact, I think there were small, blue birds singing and twittering behind her while she was sewing her dress for her big date with Jake. Right before she jumped in the giant pumpkin driven by field mice.) Where do I even start?

Oh and let's not forget...Vienna.

I will admit, I don't really get the whole 'I-hate-Vienna' phenomenon. She's young, she's a little trashy, she needs some serious help with her hair extensions, but why the hate? The show hasn't been able to air/confirm any specific evidence of bad behavior (unlike, say, Rozlyn) and she certainly seems sweet enough. I'm not exactly going to call her when I need help with a math problem, but I also don't think she deserves the absolute vitriol that USWeekly has been spewing her way.

And while I don't get the hate, I think I'm starting to understand what Jake sees in her. Bear with me for a moment as I construct my argument.

1.) Jake mentioned during the pilot episode that it's amazing (cough!) that his family loves him, despite his decision to become a pilot. According to him, they are all doctors. He was laughing (nervously) when he said it, but it was clear that he feels/felt different. (you go, Jake, you rebel. Way to buck the system! The fam is all still part of the same socio-economic status, but at least Jake owns his decision).

2.) On the date in St. Lucia, while on the pirate ship, Jake smacked Vienna on the bum with a plastic sword. Seemed innocent, almost playful - but Jake is definitely not playful. That guy is so reliable I would trust him to watch paint dry and give me a blow-by-blow account of it later. You can tell he takes things (and himself) EXTREMELY seriously. I mean, this is a good thing. I would want my pilot to take any flight that I or a family member is on extremely seriously. Yet Jake continues that personality characteristic to his personal life as well.

3.)  Tenley is just too darn sweet. She really is a Disney character. A divorced, dancing Disney character, but one nonetheless. What is more interesting is while Tenley ("Ten! Like the number...ten!") doesn't take herself quite so seriously, she is also not funny or witty in the least bit. She is just kind of silly. Kind of sweet, a little silly, and in my opinion, horribly boring. She is about as reliable as Jake is, which makes them a terrible match.

Shocking, no? You would think two reliable people would be a great match. But they are not. Because if you combine numbers 1 and 2 above, it makes Vienna the perfect pick.  Why?  I introduce to you my theory, which I like to call: The Tiger Woods Phenomenon.

Work with me here:  we have a by-the-books guy. He can't loosen up. He does lots and lots of crunches and probably eats lots of veggies that he doesn't like (but he eats them because they are healthy). He is the model of discipline. He also comes from a very pushy, very demanding  family, one that ::jokingly:: makes fun of his decision to fly planes because they have made the decision to spend their lives not transporting people, but saving them. While some folks thrive in this kind of environment, our sensitive hero does not. He needs to feel important, validated, and most importantly, the Man.

Consequently, he is going to surround himself with those kind of people.

Enter Vienna and Tenley. Vienna is only 23, has made lots of bad decisions in her life, and has a very limited world view. Tenley is sweet though slightly jaded to marriage. (ironically, Vienna has married before too, but the show hasn't really emphasized this). Tenley is never down, never tired, and clearly, never upset. It's tough to be around this kind of glowing lightness of irritating perfection, especially when you are a more sensitive soul that doesn't feel 100% great about yourself. So when faced with a decision between the two, who do you think Jake is going to pick? The one that makes him feel smart, wordly, and wise? Or the one that makes him want to do more crunches, eat more healthy (though yucky-tasting) veggies and like he will never measure up?

I use Tiger Woods because it's clear that people who put this kind of pressure on themselves almost invariably crack at some point. Tiger did everything right -- he won tournaments, he married the perfect blond girl, had perfect looking little children, and never said a dumb thing to the press. Until, of course, it all fell apart when he drove his SUV into a tree. I'm not saying Tenley is Elin or Vienna is the Perkins waitress (actually, that does fit rather well...) but what I am saying is that Vienna allows Jake to be himself - warts and all - while Tenley, whether she realizes it or not, really only allows for a very rigid, very small spectrum of emotional output.  And I think Jake is old enough and self-aware enough to know this, hence why he continues to pick Vienna. The girl he can smack on the bum with a plastic sword and not get an exasperated "Jaaaake! Cut it out!" in response.

Or, you can go with Brian's theory: 

"Jake can probably eat all the wings he wants. Vienna used to work at Hooters. Hooters has great wings."

So there you have it: my sophisticated Tiger Woods theory, or Brian's more simple Hooters theory. Either way you slice it...he picks Vienna.

I, however, do NOT think he proposes. Again, I think he takes all of this very seriously and has a certain respect for the institution of marriage, one that he is not willing to compromise on national TV. And while I think he picks Vienna, I can't predict if it will last...you can tell all of the bad press is making him second-guess his decision. Poor guy.

And yeah, how scary is Rozlyn? Folks, you just witnessed sociopathic behavior in action. I'm not calling her a sociopath, but her behavior certainly was. She was the absolute model of manipulation, complete with mis-truths, deflection, and then all-out aggression. Masterful. She is a scary, scary lady and I really hope her son spends lots of time with his father. Poor Chris Harrison! I almost want to join a Facebook group in support of Chris. And Brian and I both loved his "When my son breaks into stories about unicorns and rainbows..." moment. Who knew the guy was so funny?

Anyone have any thoughts, predictions or comments before the final rose???

(oh, and I am totally pro-Gia as the next bachelorette. Ali is a such a whiner! And could you run a brush through your hair before you go on national TV? Seriously.)

We're only two days into six months, but I have to say, this age has been great so far. It's almost like something magical happened on the night of February 17th. The little fairies that sprinkle sleepy-dust on babies must have visited our house, because by the morning of the 18th, Scotty went down for a lovely morning nap at 9am on the dot. He proceeded to sleep for the next two GLORIOUS hours. He then woke up happy and smiley, and promptly went back to sleep around 1:30pm and slept for another two hours. He was in bed no later than 6:30pm. Repeat that entire day on the 19th, but add in a FULL TWELVE HOURS of sleeping at night, and you can imagine why I am whistling this morning.
 
Really? Is it this easy? After fighting and fighting and fighting with this child to sleep during the day, did I actually win? Please go knock on a piece of wood right now for me, to continue our good fortune. Maybe it's a phase (I'm slowly learning there is no such thing as a 'pattern' in Motherhood; just random variations on the same theme), maybe it's not, but whatever it is, it's heavenly.

The Bear had his six-month visit with Dr. Awesome yesterday who commented, "Really? It's only been six months? I feel like it's been so much longer..." I agreed with her. After all, I feel like I'm in her office weekly, but again, it's better to be safe than sorry. After our whole NICU experience, I will never again just 'assume' anything about Motherhood.

The little fellow weighed in at 21lb, 8oz, is 28.25 inches long, and his head is 18.5 inches around. That places him above the 95%ile on all three charts, making me very pleased. What is really interesting, however, is that he is eating significanly less during the day, and this has continued for the last two weeks. He went from about 28 -35oz of milk per day to only 21-25oz per day. This drop, per Dr. Awesome, is likely due to teething and is nothing to worry about. He certainly is not losing weight, and she assured us that his weight gain will start to slow down over the next six months. Fine with us. The little tyke is bursting out of his 9 mo pajamas, so I'm happy to know he won't be in 2T in the next like, four minutes.

Bear on his six-month birthday:

(the white onesie is for Jen, mom to Rowan. She loves nothing more than a baby in an all-white onesie.)

On the feeding front, there are two big changes happening...

Scotty starts real food today! (yes, salads or solids, depending on your accent and regional dialect). We've been practicing with rice cereal all week and he's done a great job. I am really loving lunch time these days; Scotty sits in his high chair, I sit at the table eating my turkey sandwich, and he looks at my sandwich longingly. One day, he'll get a bite. But not quite yet.

So I've been deep in thought for the past two weeks as to what would be the right first food...lots of discussion, reading, and researching, and we finally have a winner. Drumroll please....please give a warm round of applause to....THE AVOCADO!  Yes, everyone's favorite fruit/vegatable, chock full of vitamins and healthy fat (gotta mylinate those neural pathways) is the winner. I love this on two levels: 1.) it's healthy and super easy to prepare (I plan to mash it to within an inch of its life, then mix in a little breastmilk to thin it) and 2.) it just screams West Coast. Despite Brian's and my Midwestern roots, I have to keep reminding myself that we are raising a little West Coast baby. I'm happy to offer him something that has wonderful childhood memories for me (eating avocados on bread during dinner - 'sailor's butter' - was always such a treat in our household) as well as it somewhat local (grown just next door in California). Dr. Awesome also strongly encouraged us to start with green food (avocado, sweet peas, zucchini), move to orange foods (carrots, yams, winter quash) and then introduce sweeter, white food (apples, pears, bananas). I love this logic (color-coded!). I've been frequenting Whole Foods quite a bit lately, trying to scope out some lovely produce and I can't wait to get Scotty started. Pictures to follow!

And then the other big news is that I'm weaning. I'm not sure if I'm weaning Scotty or myself from my breast pump, but whatever it is, it's great. This decision was made several weeks ago when it looked like we were going to be moving soon. I feel like I talk about this all the freaking time, but I AM SO SICK OF PUMPING. Hate it, hate it, hate it. But I believe in the properties and benefits of breastmilk, so it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. Well, I made it and I hit my goal of six months and now I'm ready to pack up the breast pump for good. Every time I tell someone about this (another mother), they always make the sound of the pump - shoo-ah-shoo-ah-shoo - at me. Too funny. Thank you. That noise will be stuck in my head for the rest of my life.

I'm down to pumping only three times per day and it is WONDERFUL. More time with the Bear, less time pumping, and less time washing bottles. I literally went from washing bottles six times a day to only washing two to three times per day. I feel like I have a life again. What is really interesting, too, is that because Scotty is eating less, he is still getting almost all breast milk, still, despite my fewer pumps. I could make a "Jesus and the fish and loaves" analogy, but I don't want to offend any readers, but that's really how I feel. I'm pumping less, yet every time I go to the fridge to heat up more milk, there are several bags in there. Like magic. I haven't even touched my frozen supply, so I'm hopeful Scotty will be getting the good stuff well into his seventh month.

So yeah, we're all feeling pretty good these days. Brian even came home early on Thursday for Scotty's half-birthday, and getting him out of the office early is nothing short of a miracle. He had gone to Toys-R-Us during lunchtime and came home with all kinds of goodies for the little Birthday Bear; a turtle for the bath tub, a ball that rolls around and sings, and a little fuzzy blue puppy blanket. I don't know who was more excited, Brian or the Bear, but it was awfully cute to watch. Brian and Scotty have some kind of special bond that I can't touch; the Bear lights up when Brian walks in the room, and Brian does the same. They are like two little peas in a pod. So, so cute. I'm just like the assistant or something. (that's fine...)

As you can probably glean from the content of my posts, everyone's mood had just been great lately. I think a lot of this has to do with the weather in Vegas, too. When it is 70 and sunny, it's hard to be in a bad mood. Here are some pictures from a recent park visit:

Finally, I just want to end on a story that I like to call 'Good Therapuetic Skills Die Hard.' I guess once a therapist, always a therapist.

I was at the car wash on Thursday when one of the attendants informed me that I had a crack in my windshield. It was one of those teeny-tiny ones that they can fix on the spot but they need to call your insurance first. I consented and gave them my insurance card and they asked me to step into the back office. The woman in charge had to call our insurance, and it turns out the insurance rep wanted to just verify some details with me before she submitted the claim to be processed.

I picked up the phone and we chatted for a few moments.  She then launched into her questions. Could I verify my birthday and zip code, please? When did the accident happen? What was the chip from?  Then she asked me, "What state were you in?" I paused for a second. Really? What an interesting question, I thought. "Well," I started, "I was alert. Tired, probably, since my child doesn't sleep that much, but I was awake." There was this long silence on her end. "No, ma'am," she said. "What STATE were you in when the accident happened? California? Nevada?" 

Doh.

We both had a good laugh. Needless to say, she wasn't looking for my mental state, just my state of residence. Old habits die hard. :-)

So much to discuss! This will be a long post, so pull up a seat, pour yourself some coffee, and settle in, dear friend.

It all started with the simple task of cleaning out the closets...

As you know, we are in the throes of Baby House. As of today, the sellers accepted the appraisal price (!!!) AND they completed all of the necessary repairs, minus one big one. The Whippersnapper is on it and is assuring us that the house will be ready by this weekend. The lender has all of our finances in order and we have transferred all necessary monies to complete the deal...in other words, our bags are packed, we know where the hospital is, we are just waiting for those first few contractions to really kick in (or our housing 'water' to break, so to speak) and then WE ARE BUYING A HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!  ::squeal::

I've only felt this level of excitement during several other moments in my life...leaving for Ireland caused this feeling of butterflies. When Brian proposed. The weeks before our wedding (not the actual week of the wedding; no, that was a trainwreck-filled disaster of seven days that started with a broken water heater and ended with...well, you know what.) The weekend before Scotty's arrival, I had this feeling. And now, my toes are a little tingly, my stomach is a little queasy, and I'm probably talking faster than normal.

I've been quizzing the Whippersnapper about our closing date much in the same manner I quizzed George for my due date. "Do you think it will happen soon?" "What else needs to happen?" "What can we do to make this happen sooner?" "Does everything look okay?" I actually told the Whippersnapper about my ob/realtor analogy, and she loved it. I'm really starting to like her -- she is amazingly good at her job and is just a really nice, fun person. I feel like we've entrusted her with a job so important (and essential to our physical and mental well-being) and she has just been a super star. I think she is definitely making the list for Christmas cards this year.

So, with our move just weeks away, I started to clean out our cabinets. My goal was to use up - not throw out - all of the stuff we've collected over the years. Do I really need 4 different kinds of shampoo? Why do I keep buying more? Ditto for body lotion, bath soap, etc. Even our kitchen cabinets are packed to the gills with cans of food, coffee, tuna. We would likely survive nuclear war based on my preparations. Anyways, this has spurred my creativity to figure out how to use up all of this before we move. And, as we know, thinking about new uses for old things (just like brushing your teeth with your non-dominant hand) actually strengthens your brain. Poor Brian has had to endure all kinds of creative meals in the last few weeks, but it has made my mood brighten and dinner time has become a fun challenge, not the boring task it has been in months past.

Also, in my cleaning frenzy, I stumbled across a small sample of face tanner. I had likely ripped this out of a magazine in months past, threw it under the bathroom cabinet and promptly forgot about it. Now, you also have to know that I stopped tanning cold turkey about three years ago. I'm not sure if I fit the definition of a tan-o-rexic, but I certainly loved indoor tanning (and outdoor!). I felt better when I was tan. I gave it when we started trying to have a baby, not because it is nearly toxic for your health. It was a hard thing to give up, but I'm glad I did it. I had a bad experience with self-tanner about eight years ago (that prompted Brian to hold up an orange near my leg, and declare my leg to be the winner) so I felt resigned to just figure out how to embrace my fleshy white self.

Cue the facial tanner. In my mission to use up everything in our house, I decided to slather a little on. My face brightened! It was tan...kind of. It was tan enough for me, at least, and I did it in a safe manner. I was so excited I ran out to buy body lotion with self-tanner. I guess things have really improved in eight years.

Looking at my lovely bronzed legs inspired me to think about what is underneath that skin...which lead me to the gym. I'm happy to report that since February started, I've managed to hit the treadmill, elliptical several times AND attend one (horribly painful) body pump class. I don't think I've lost any weight, but I cannot state how wonderful it feels to actually use my body again and to use it for non-incubator purposes. I feel like me again. I think I might have underestimated the extent that bed rest took on my body; not only could I not do a lunge with weight, I could barely do the damn lunge at all. Wow. I hadn't lifted a weight since 2008. I'm fairly certain my abs haven't even come together yet, since if you poke me in the middle of my tummy, it's still really squishy. So yes, I have a lot of work to do but I feel so excited to be able to run, walk, lunge (kind of) and break a sweat without worrying about how I'm affecting my baby. Hooray!

(also, this gym commitment was spurred on by a recent wardrobe reduction. I was collecting clothing to give to charity when I stumbled upon several old skirts and shirts. "Look at how teeny-tiny this skirt is!" I cried to Brian one night. He nodded appreciatively. "I wore this to Jen's bachelorette party! That was only four years ago!" Brian nodded again. "I was a saucy little thing, wasn't I?" I asked him. He agreed again. (poor guy. He could only nod at this point. We were headed into dangerous territory.)  "Now, I'm not saucy; I'm just sauce," I told him. "Gravy. I'm like gravy." And at this point, he started snickering. At least he thinks I'm funny, despite the current size of my waist.)

I have just had tons of energy since my recent gym visits (minus the few days after Body Pump; I can barely walk up and down the stairs). Scotty and I have gone to the park (facing forward in the stroller!) to enjoy the lovely Vegas weather.  We attended a Valentine's Day party last Saturday and on Friday night, I sat at our kitchen table, happily cutting out paper hearts for cards that we planned to distribute to the other children. My oatmeal cookies were cooling on the counter and I thought to myself, "Is this motherhood? Because if it is, this rocks." THIS is how I picture motherhood - sunny days in the park, crafts, cookies, happy baby babbling in the high chair. I know that I've vacillated between staying at home and possibly going back to work, but I am so happy I chose to stay home. This lifestyle is really fun, not to mention incredibly rewarding. We have finally moved past sleep-deprivation and SwaddleGate and are really hitting our stride.

So yeah, after all of that, I am feeling great. Cleaning out the closets lead to me using my brain in new and creative ways. Which then prompted me to tan safely, hit the gym, start some craft projects and actually enjoy my choices. It only took us six months, but we got there. We got there.

There has been all kinds of news in our household lately...

including:

Solids! Well, rice cereal mixed with a healthy amount of breastmilk. Scotty did a great job and ate literally every little morsel on his (turtle-decorated) plate. I was worried we might have swallowing issues or just general fussiness, but the Bear took to the high chair and to the task of eating like well, a duck to water. Such a big boy!

Here's more Bear at Lunch pictures:

We were having so much fun hitting these major moments in a baby's life that we decided to take things one step further and try out our stroller...facing forward. Literally, a whole new world opened to Scott.

And finally, since Scotty now has the ability to sit in a chair, eat mushy food spooned gently into his mouth, and sit in a forward-facing stroller, we decided it was time for him to get a job.

So he did.

(ha ha, just joking. In reality, we had to make a trip to see Dad at the Pig Farm  to get some papers signed. Scotty had a great time meeting all of the secretaries, attorneys, and staff.)
 
(Why do we call it the Pig Farm? Because Dad is the pig farmer...he brings home the bacon!)

With Scotty's six month birthday almost upon us, I took time today to put together his high chair and his snazzy chocolate-and-blue Maclaren Triumph umbrella stroller.

Aside from feeling as though I need a PhD in baby gear to put this stuff together (and breaking two thumbnails in the process), I was met by the shock of my life when I plopped our 22+ lb child in the high chair.

He looked tiny. Like a little, itty-bitty baby. Sitting in a big boy chair.

I need to preface this by saying that for the most part, I've been 100% okay with milestones and growth. In fact, I feel as though I'm looking forward to future milestones (table food, crawling, etc) and haven't really mourned any major moments of his growth. Probably the most emotional I've been is when I was packing up his 0-3 mo. clothing and it hit me that he would never, ever wear these little clothes again. I teared up for a moment, then promptly closed the lid on the tupperware container and shoved it under a bed, not spending another minute thinking about it.

But this - seeing our little bear in his chair - seriously made me grab him out of the high chair and squeeze him as tightly as I could. He's getting so big! He's like a real boy now. Where did my little snuggle bear go? It seems like just yesterday that we were deep into the throes of SwaddleGate or his refusal (inability?) to poop. It's such a surreal moment to see my child, the same one that entered this world at 8lbs, 6oz, sitting upright, ready to eat real food.

And yet while he looks so old, he looked so tiny and little and fragile. I feel like I've really been torn between feeling lucky that I get to stay home and absolutely detesting my current lifestyle, but seeing him sitting there, blue eyes huge and surprised, made me realize how lucky I am that I get to witness these moments. He's never going to do this kind of stuff again; just like those 0-3 mo. outfits, these moments are here but for an instant. And I feel so honored to get to experience them with my little guy.

Again, I feel like I mention this a lot, but my whole frame of reference before becoming a parent was being a cat owner...and as much as we loved Emma (and the challenges she presented), she also never changed. Her life was static; she never grew (except to lose a pound or two), never met milestones, and was ferociously independent. I guess I (very naively and very stupidly) thought being a Mom would be similar...and while it's 1000x harder than being a catMom, being the Mom to the Bear is about 1,000,000x more rewarding.

So yeah, I'll stop bemoaning my decision to become a stay-at-home-mom. Although there are challenging days, I'm starting to realize that the benefits of staying home isn't because your life is easier, but because your life is richer.

I'll take richer over easier any day.

So we've had some issues with Scotty sleeping through the night (he's totally teething...it has to be teething, b/c my goodness, he is a fussy bear these days).

Anyways, for the last few weeks, our glorious streak of 'bed at 7pm and sleep 'til 7am' has been replaced with several craptastic wake-up times, such as 2:30am...3:30am...and there was even a 12:30am wake-up thrown in there for good measure. I think he wants to make sure I don't get too comfortable; gotta keep Mom on her toes at all times.

So on Friday night, I woke up not to baby coos or Scotty's rustling, but to the sound of the microwave. Had my five month old finally figured out how to heat up his own milk? Could I be so lucky? Considering he cannot yet roll from back to belly, that would be a resounding...no.

Instead, I found my husband in the kitchen.  Brian, current owner of a fairly miserable head cold, had woken up to heat up more Thera-Flu. Poor guy.

I headed upstairs, slightly irritated that my pleasant night of sleep was yet again disturbed. If one of my boys was sleeping, it seemed like the other one was not...and if Scotty slept through the night, Brian did not.

I was cataloging these thoughts as I lay in bed, trying desperately to fall back asleep when I heard another familiar sound: Scotty was up. The clock read 3:25am.

I am never going to get to sleep for more than 6 hours, am I?

I think we might need an emergency c-section to bring this house into the world...with forceps...and the vacuum. Please prepare the OR, stat!

Good lord, why is nothing ever simple??? I swear, Tuesday I was freaking out because we were getting ready to close and it was too soon for me. Now it is Friday and we might not even get the house. The ups and downs of the real estate market...I swear, I thought working with suicidal people was stressful. It is nothing compared to the trials of being a realtor/lender. Sheesh.

So, things were going well until yesterday, when our poor little house started experiencing some decels. (for those of you who have had a baby recently, this makes sense. For those of you who haven't, just bear with me). Strap on the O2 mask and start breathing deeply...the appraisal came back too low. My first (naive) thought was, "Great! We get the house for less money!" Except after a conversation with the Whippersnapper, she informed me the sellers would not go that low, and also, we would not qualify for a mortgage at the current purchase price (since the appraised value of the home is less. No bank would agree to this.) So our only option was to come out of pocket $20K, pay that to the seller, in addition to the down payment, closing costs, etc.

In other words...no. There is no way we were going to pay any money out of pocket AND be underwater in the home, right from the start.

I really thought all was lost. If we were to cancel the deal, not only would be out about $1,000 (for the home inspection and appraisal), we ran the risk of losing our earnest money ($5K) AND having to start this miserable process all over again. Boom, crash.

But in the 11th hour, the Whippersnapper saved (and is currently saving) the day. She just called and is 1.) contesting the appraisal, 2.) writing a rebuttal to the appraisal, 3.) will be requesting a field review in the event the rebuttal doesn't work, and 4.) has spoken with the seller's agent who agreed that his clients want to sell the house and are willing to drop the price, but not drop it $20K (what the appraisal came back at.) So, his suggestion was to pay for another appraisal (eek) through a lender the sellers' really trust, and then whatever that came back at, they would sell it to us for that price (again, as long as it was not too low).

Are you with me on this? Very complicated, I know.  She had to explain this to me about twelve times, and the only reason I'm writing it out right now is to make sure I have it clear in my mind. The bottom line, per the Whippersnapper: we will actually be paying less for the house than what we originally thought, if the whole deal doesn't fall through. Hooray! That is music to my ears. The bad news: all of this could take another few weeks to sort out. The worst news: it might completely implode all together.

But we're not even going to think about the worst case scenario. (WSC).

I have to give props to the Whippersnapper, who is absolutely living up to her nickname. She was so concerned about extending the due diligence period (and making sure we didn't lose our earnest money) that she came over to our house last night at 8:30pm, with paperwork in hand, to make sure she could file it first thing this morning. I offered her dinner, but she declined (I don't think she eats. Or sleeps.  She just works. And works, and works). Seriously, that is quality service.

And, ironically, during the ten minutes she was actually in our home, she managed to get ticketed by our HOA. (there is no street parking allowed, and she had parked in front of our house.) I think this is hysterical; I mean, the meth deal that went down earlier in the day went unpunished, but God forbid she park in front of our house for literally ten minutes. We all laughed and shredded the ticket. Did I mention how happy I will be to leave this neighborhood?