Dum di dum di dum di doo

I'm not really twiddling my thumbs but it feels that way sometimes. The open house went well, but not well enough, in that it hasn't resulted in an offer. It's only Monday, but ya know. Though we did have an impromptu showing this afternoon. They only stayed 20 minutes or so, but that doesn't mean they didn't like it, I guess.

Ds#3, 21 months, is really trying to learn to use the toilet, especially with #2. He much prefers to put it in the potty, but can't always get there. Pee is a little more random. I think he'd rather put it on the floor than anywhere else (it makes such a nice puddle), but since that's out, he doesn't seem to care where it goes.

Ds#2 is trying to learn to read. He has always loved books and stories as much as Ds#1, but he learns from doing rather than from seeing, so we're trying to find a different approach for him since he's very anxious to learn. He knows a few words, including all of the important ones that he's known since age 2 (his own name and those of his brothers and family, as well as some words like "book", "foot", "the", all of the letters, upper and lower case, etc.) Ds#1 was reading simple words like on, no, a, and, etc. when was he was 2 1/2, and reading full sentences by age 3, but he's a very visually oriented learner. He now reads at about a 6th grade level (we recently did some informal but fairly accurate assessments with him) at almost age 7, even though he didn't even say the whole alphabet until about age 4. Ds#2 does sing with perfect pitch, is very physically oriented and has been speaking and singing at an advanced level since at least 12 months. He seems to have acquired the same clarity of speech issues that ds#1 had, and so we're working with him on that a bit. They get this ignoble trait from me. I've battled mush mouth my entire life, but never thought that it could be hereditary (it's a physical thing apparently -- they have no trouble distinguishing between the sounds, but rather have difficulty physically making them). I always assumed that my issues were a result of the many ear infections I had as a child, but apparently not. None of us is perfect, no not one. ;-)


It's interesting to see the difference in learning styles, and personality, between otherwise equally intelligent children. It will be interesting to see what happens with ds#3. He's quite the corker already!

I'm going to sign up for kick-boxing when we get settled in. I had to skip the zoo bike trip that ds#1 and I were getting ready for, since we got so incredibly busy, and because with any luck we won't be here in September. But, I'll keep cycling, and hopefully kick-boxing will prove to be a fun outlet for my crazy, stressed energy. It definitely looks like fun!

I'm also hoping that I could start tutoring at-risk children and teens once in awhile. I had trained with the adult reading program at the library when ds#1 was a babe, but instead of getting an adult learner, they wanted to put me with the special needs/severely learning delayed classroom. I was too young and unassertive to tell them that this group wouldn't be for me, and I felt too guilty to tell them that I wanted to do what I had signed up to do (teach otherwise developmentally on-target individuals who had lacked the support they needed to learn -- there are many of these individuals waiting for tutors). As a result, I tried to tough it out for several weeks before I finally stopped going. These days, I would approach the situation in a very different manner. I'm not sure what has sparked this interest again, but I'll probably check out the opportunities once I get settled. I'm also interested in ESL work, so we'll see.


Too many plans, so little time. If we could get a little land, the boys are very interested in chickens, goats, and Holland Lop bunnies. Of course, we could easily save that until ds#3 is 7 or so. Everything will be a little easier by then (one can always hope!). (ETA: ds#2 wants to have horses, too, despite ds#1's assertion that horses are too much work, cost too much money, and take up too much space)...

Whatever

I have so many more important things to write about, not the least of which is the passing of my pooch, but alas, I'm going to bitch about today's showing. They showed up 35 minutes early for a 2:30-4:30 showing (the larger block of time usually means that they're seeing more than one or two houses) -- so not only were we the first on their list for the afternoon (which means we were probably the "least"), but they graced us early. I'm guessing that the realtor was not very experienced, or just silly. When looking at houses, we've always gone on to the next house if we could see that someone was still home (especially if we happened to get there early), and come back later.

I was just loading the dogs in the car, and had planned a final walk-through (which would have included putting the laundry basket of clean clothes into the car instead of the closet, would have caught the cereal bowl of mushy flakes that had been smeared on the desk in the office while I was vacuuming in another room, would have found the clothes that had been thrown on the boys' bedroom floor in a last minute clothes change, would have put a new roll of toilet paper on the holder in the master bath, and would have hidden away the ant trap that was resting so nicely beside the recycling can in the kitchen -- don't ask what I was doing the rest of the morning that I wasn't able to get to those things before anyone arrived). And never mind the fact that I didn't get to clean the kennel before anyone came. Hopefully, they were suitably horrified by the congealing cereal and dirty laundry and decided not to take a close look at the outdoors. Or maybe they were frightened enough of my crazy, un-showered self trying to load my three monkeys into the car that they decided against the house before they even went in.

Whatever, whatever, whatever.

So, we have a showing tomorrow, and an open house on Sunday. And we have another person who has yet to see it, but is interested. He mainly wants to rent, and to buy in a year (he's a student), but who knows, it could work out.

I LOVE selling my house! I LOVE selling my house! I do, I really, really do.

Well, ya know...

Ahhh... My show is over. I successfully ended my theater career in this community... The three shows I directed went off splendidly, and my turn as a Jewish New Yorker was none too shabby, either. I'm thrilled that I did it, but just as happy to be finished.

As for the house, well, I'm trying not to think about it. In some ways, it's like trying to get pregnant or like waiting for labor to begin. You know that everyone tells you that it might take awhile, but you secretly hope that you'll be the exception, the lucky person who gets knocked up the second you throw out your BC, or the fortunate person who goes into labor the second she hits 36 weeks (this fantasy also includes a fully mature set of lungs for the babe). Every second past those magical points feels like torture, until you resign yourself to the fact that your experience is most likely going to be "normal". It's worse, of course, if this isn't the first time you've tried to get pregnant or gone into labor or sold a house. You're either assuming that it will go just as swimmingly as last time, or praying that the nightmare you experienced before doesn't repeat itself. The advice for all of these scenarios (usually from well-meaning folks who are not trying to create life, birth life, or unload a bothersome house) is to, well, RELAX. It's usually the last thing anyone wants to do. But, having not done so through the conceptions, labors, and births of three kiddos, and two previous housing transactions, I'm going to give it the ole college try. Why not? I'm all for changing things up a bit.

One thing I'm really worried about: My pooch. She's not feeling well, and I may have to take her to the vet on Monday. She was fine two weeks ago when we took the dogs in for their check-ups and boosters, but the last couple of days, she just wants to lay in the yard. No kong play, no sniffing the flowers, no kissing the boys. She turned 10 in January, but despite being somewhat overweight, checked out just fine. I hate that she still has to get her rabies booster (especially since her titers are most likely off the charts after all these years), and I hope that it wasn't the vaccination that made her sick. If it were up to me, pooches would only get vaccines every 2-3 years, but I'm sure that wouldn't fly, politically.