So Happy Together

The offering and counter-offering has gone back and forth all weekend, and we are supposed to give an answer today by five pm.

Jeremy came home late Saturday, and he stopped to pick up my sister Faith on his way here. He's running around town taking care of details, while Faith is babysitting the girls. Wednesday will be my last day of work because (sold house or not)...we are all moving to Indiana together!!! (All but Faith.)

Liberty was overjoyed to wake up from her Sunday nap and find that "Daddy is still home with me!"

She keeps asking, "We all be in Inni-anna together?" Then she goes around the room and touches everybody. "Mommy be in Inni-anna. Daddy be in Inni-anna. Me be in Inni-anna, and Meecee be in Inni-anna. Together! All happy!"

Nail-Biter

Someone made on offer on our house! :-)

We counter-offered.

Sweet Dreams?

True terror has not yet arrived until you step out of the shower and catch the vaguest glimpse of a giant spider scurrying from the folds of a freshly laundered towel a nanosecond before you wrap that towel against your unprotected body.

Paranoia has not yet arrived until you yank that towel from your body, hold it at arm's length and eyeball both empty sides. At that point, a thorough search of the floor and a mirrored search of your hair and back will do nothing to alleviate the all over crawling feeling that haunts, even after you are safely tucked between your sheets.

"I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, oh Lord, make me dwell in safety." Psalm 4:8

Impatient

Reality.

I am impatient.

I don't want to wait around for our house to sell. I don't want to clean up every time something spills or gets pushed out of place so that our house is in constant "showing" condition. I don't want to be kicked out of my house every time someone desires to come see it.

I don't want to sell our house.

There, I said it. I like our land, our neighbors, our swingset, our safety, our comfort. Our home.

I'm sure I will like Indiana, too. I'm sure we will find new neighbors, new friends, a new home. In fact, I am eager to GO! Or eager to STAY! Or eager to DO ANYTHING!

I just hate this waiting.


"Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD."
Psalm 27:14

Pray For Our House To Sell!

I don't know what I'm going to call this post. Mainly, because I don't know what I'm about to write.

Jeremy came home for the fourth of July weekend, and it was WONDERFUL!

He left on Sunday just after morning church and before the beginning of the girls' nap times. He tucked them into bed and told them goodbye. Thankfully, when the girls woke up there were only a few questions about Daddy's whereabouts and no tears. However, at bedtime, Liberty's nightmares started up again. (Although, this could be attributed to the copious amounts of sugar she inhaled at the Independence Day parade and the lack of sleep that was necessary to watch fireworks until almost midnight.)

Today, our house is being shown, so we cannot go home until after seven this evening, and on Thursday evening and Saturday morning we are shooed out for the open house! I am very excited about these events and have plans in place.

Tonight, my friend Jackie invited us to her house for a barbecue/slip 'n slide party. Thursday, there is a fun night scheduled at the town square, and Saturday, well, I don't have plans for that, yet, but I'll find something fun to do.

What A Day

To understand this post, you will need to first read this post (with your sense of humor plugged in.)

After work, I picked up the girls from Sonja's house and we headed to the pool. On the way there, I discussed with Liberty what behavior would be acceptable. We had four rules:

1. When Mommy says "Stop," you need to stop immediately. Liberty nodded her head, "Yes, Mommy."

2. When Mommy says "Come here," you need to come to me. Liberty nodded, "Yes, Mommy."

3. If we are walking somewhere, you need to hold my hand or my shirt all the time. Liberty nodded, "Yes, Mommy."

4. When I say "It's time to go home," you need to obey and not cry about it. Liberty beamed, "I be happy, Mommy."

"Okay!" I grinned at her. "Let's go!" I gathered my things. This took twenty-seven minutes. Finally, laden down with three bulging plastic bags, one canvas bag, two lunch bags, Mercy in one arm and Liberty clinging tightly to my other hand, we made our way through the parking lot towards the pool.

Whose bright idea it was to put double turnstiles at the entrance to the pool, I do not know, but when I find them, I will be sure to inform them that it was a very bad idea.

Did you know that it is possible to get a plastic bag handle so twisted onto a turnstile prong that your sanity could be at risk?

At the payment window, I nodded downwards at my paraphernalia and asked, "Can I just drop all this stuff off and come back to pay?" They agreed, and we happily journeyed to the far side of the pool. I set my bags down, maintained a death grip on Liberty's hand, balanced Mercy in my other arm and searched through my bag for the credit card. Liberty was dismayed to see us heading back towards the entrance. "Where we going, Mommy?" she asked. "To pay for the pool," I informed her.

"Where we going, Mommy?"

"To pay for the pool."

"Where we going, Mommy?"

"To pay for the pool."

"Where we going, Mommy?"

That's when I quit answering. She began to whimper. The exit drew nearer. She began to cry.

I took pity on her, "Liberty, we are not leaving yet. We are just going to pay so that we can swim."

"Where we going, Mommy?"

I stopped at the window to pay. "We only accept cash or checks. Sorry," the teenage girl informed me nicely.

"Where we going, Mommy?"

"Back to our bags to find the car keys."

"We going home, Mommy?" this said with a hint of tears in her voice.

"No, honey, after we get the car keys, we're going to the car to find some money so we can swim."

The trip back to our bags elicited no questions from Liberty, but when we turned around again and walked towards the exit she piped up.

"Where we going, Mommy?"

"To the car to get some money, but we are not going home. We're just getting some money so that we can pay to swim. It's going to be FUN!"

"Where we going, Mommy?"

"To get some money."

"Where we going, Mommy?"

The exit was too close to bear. She began crying, and her hand slipped from my grasp, but she kept pace with me.

When we arrived at the turnstiles, with the parking lot just beyond, I reached for her hand, "Remember what we talked about in the car?" I asked referring to the fact that she needed to hold my hand.

She sobbed, "No crying!" She breathed, attempted to be brave and then sobbed again, "I be happy!" Much sniffing and hiccuping ensued as she slowly stopped her tears.

I tried hard not to laugh.

"You are doing a great job, Liberty! I am so happy that you are obeying. Let's hold hands while we walk to the car."

Once we were legally paid for and able to swim, and since it was one of those days, I fully expected one of my girls to drown or at least need to be life-guarded to safety, but we made it there and home again safely. We didn't even experience a small choking episode during our pool-side supper break!

I sighed with relief and dared to hope that the pox had lifted.

We wore our dripping bathing suits home, making sure to thoroughly wet the seats in the car. I just adore a moldy car smell, don't you? Liberty escaped into the house while I concentrated on freeing Mercy from her car seat and changing her into something warm. I considered changing out of my own dripping bathing suit first, but instead opted to change the girls and then myself. I spread Mercy's wet suit out on top of the dryer and went to find Liberty. She was in our neighbor's yard watching him dig a trench so that his downspouts could continue underground.

She looked up when I arrived on the back porch. "Yook, Mommy, I helping Gampa Chuck!" she announced happily and held up a couple handfuls of dirt.

"That's great, Lib. Let's go inside and get changed so you can come back out and play."

Chuck noticed her hesitation and began walking with her towards the porch. Then he stopped to talk with me. My wet hair and bathing suit enhanced the wind speed and soon goosebumps covered my flesh, but still we chatted. Liberty obeyed and disappeared into the house, but still we chatted. Mercy, in her sweatshirt and pants, attempted to launch herself over the side of the kiddie pool, but still we chatted.

Liberty gave up waiting for me inside and came back out to the porch. She slid the patio door closed behind her, and I heard a distinct click. NO! My brain screamed. It felt like slow motion: I turned to the door and yanked it sideways. It did not budge. I yanked again, knowing full well the result would be nothing. I sighed.

"All the other doors locked?" Chuck stated, looking like he was trying to hide a grin.

"Yes," I breathed, and mentally walked the perimeter of the house. "And all the windows are closed and locked."

We stared at each other, and then I looked at Liberty. I started giggling, which turned into gasps of laughter. Chuck allowed his grin to surface and ruffled Liberty's hair. "With this one around, you're going to need a spare key made to put outside." We walked around the house checking all windows and doors. All locked. I sat on the back steps and pondered.

"Well." Chuck removed a pack from his front shirt pocket and tapped it against his palm until a cigarette fell out.

"Would the police be able to help?" I wondered out loud.

He paused in his cigarette lighting and handed me his cell phone. "Let's find out."

Mr. Officer arrived and parked his jungle gym in our driveway. At least, that's what Liberty thought he did. He was actually driving a car with a special black climbing toy on the front conventionally used to push bad guys' cars out of the way.

He, too, circled the house multiple times and came up with nothing. He called his boss. Together, they decided the very best solution would be to KICK one of our doors in. I let that thought roll around in my brain for .1734ths of a second. Hmm, would it help our chances of selling the house?

"Or," I volunteered, "I could call a locksmith."

Yes, they agreed with a touch of reluctance. I could do that.

And that's when all of the time I'd spent sitting in my wet bathing suit on the front porch praying while I waited for the cops to arrive and come up with a good solution paid off. God flashed a clear picture of the sliding patio door into my head, and this time I noticed that the outside lock was not installed. Instead, a hole about the size of a quarter sat where the key mechanism should have been. "HEY!" I jumped up, startling Mr. Officer and leaving a wet butt print on the concrete steps. "Can we use a screw driver or something on that sliding door?" I described the hole, and we all took off for the backyard.

Two seconds later, we were inside.

Liberty was overjoyed, expecting all of her new friends to join us in the house. "No!" she yelped when Mr. Officer indicated his departure. "Stay with me." She wrapped her arms around his leg. "Stay in my house."

He smiled and knelt down by her, "Sorry, kiddo, I have to go."

"Stay with me," she lured him. "In my house."

He traded a sticker for his freedom, a gold police badge that said Jr. Officer. At bedtime that night, Liberty handed me the surviving half of the badge. "Yook, Mommy. My peaceman give me ticka."

I stood in the bedroom doorway and fondly looked at my girls. Mercy slept soundly in her crib, her right arm flung up over her head. In her own bed, Liberty's golden curls splayed out over her pillow and she smiled, satisfied with her "peaceman ticka."

I closed the bedroom door and walked down the hallway, reflecting on the day. The bumps along the way had enhanced instead of detracted, and I smiled to myself. "I will remember this day for a LONG, LONG time."

"This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it."
Psalm 118:24

One of Those Days

I jerked awake a full forty-five minutes before my alarm sounded. A glance at the time emphatically informed me, It's going to be one of those days.

I groggily lifted my head from it's pillow and searched the room, wondering why my mind screamed at me, "WAKE UP! It's important! Hurry!" A few minutes of thorough introspection yielded no reason for this urgency, and I drifted back into dreamland.

My phone rang ten minutes ahead of my alarm. My arm dragged lazily towards the ringing object, my eyes remained closed. Bang. I heard the phone hit the floor. Oh man. I moved my body until I could see over the edge of the bed. My arm hit the ground heavily and attempted to grip the phone. Blood flow seeped into my lifeless hand causing stinging pricks up and down my fingers. By the time I could lift the phone to my ear, the caller had given up.

Yep, definitely one of those days.

When my alarm finally sounded, I groaned and dragged myself from the bed. It wasn't until I had finished several morning routines and stood in my closet choosing an outfit that I realized the cause for my earlier sense of urgency.

1. An important potential client was meeting with us at work first thing in the morning which meant that I needed to arrive at work earlier than usual.
2. The girls and I were meeting some friends at the pool in the afternoon which meant that I had extra preparations to complete before we could leave the house.
3. My oil change appointment was for this morning which meant that I would need to leave the house even earlier than early in order to drop my vehicle off and be given a ride to work.

I looked at the little clock sitting in the bathroom. "Oh no!" I groaned aloud.

It IS one of those days.

For the benefit of the potential client, I chose a dressier than usual outfit. Then I rushed through dressing and hair-fixing. I searched in vain for our pool bag (which I think I remember packing into a box a few weeks ago) and finally stuffed the pool supplies into plastic bags. I ran through the house from dryer to counter-top rolling up towels and wadding up bathing suits as I ran. I shoved snacks into lunch bags, trying to pick out a well-balanced, baby-friendly, non-messy, meal that we could eat as a pool-side supper later. With all of that accomplished, I opened the girls' bedroom door to greet my daughters. "Good morning!" I chirped to them.

Liberty stared at me. She removed the thumb from her mouth long enough to say, "Huh-uh." Then she popped it back in and pulled her blanket over her head.

Oh. I told myself. It's going to be one of THOSE days.

I ignored her and lifted Mercy from her crib planning to come back for Liberty later. Mercy immediately grabbed my fancy necklace and yanked, giving me a taste of what was to come. My dangly earrings enticed her little hands, and I ducked and dodged through the diaper change and new outfit donning. Somewhere in there, I recognized the creak of Liberty's bed as she climbed down and the little sounds of exploration she created as she searched the kitchen for her breakfast. Knowing that all food was out of her reach, those sounds did not stir a feeling of alarm as it should have.

With Mercy now fully dressed, I put on my game face and went to find Liberty. The quietness of the house should have disturbed me, but it didn't. Therefore, I was unprepared when I finally came upon Liberty from behind. Her back looked innocent enough. Then she turned and revealed my favorite lipstick smeared around her mouth. The disfigured tube still clutched in her paw. "Yook, I pitty yike you, Mommy!"

What could I say? I already knew it would be one of those days.

I took her picture.

Then told her that she needed to ASK me before she touched my lipstick again. She really had done a remarkable job of keeping the makeup relatively close to the lines of her mouth. Part of me was proud of her (obviously above average) coordination; part of me wanted to laugh at the face displayed before me; the rest of me was becoming more and more late for work.

I scrubbed her mouth, fought her clothing onto her body, then strapped both girls into their car seats and grabbed a couple Tupperware containers to pour cereal into so that they could eat on the way into town. It wasn't until I had reached the highway that I realized I had not brought anything for them to drink.

I sighed. "Well, it's just one of those days."

Amazingly enough, we reached Sonja's house with a small amount of time leftover. If everything goes completely smoothly, I might be able to drop off the van at the shop and still get to work either right on time or only a couple minutes late! I consoled myself. I unbuckled Mercy and carried her over to Liberty's side of the van. I unbuckled Liberty and with my one free hand, reached to help her out of the van. "No!" she told me and ran to the very back seat. I stood at the door quickly considering my options and just at that moment, Mercy upchucked down the front of my dressed-to-impress outfit. Warm liquid oozed into my shoes and squished between my toes. I simply stared at the mess.

Now, why did it have to be one of THOSE days?

I finally arrived at work a little over ten minutes late. Now that I've had sufficient time to reflect, I have realized that I forgot to pack a spoon for my suppertime yogurt and diaper wipes for any messy diapers that occur at the pool. My mom called to say that a second house that my dad was scheduled to work on has caught fire so he is once again without a job, and Jeremy called with the news that we still are not signed up for health insurance and he needs to see a doctor. The realtor brought me yet another paper to sign and informed me that so far there has been no expressed interest in our home and we probably need to host an open house but that those do not usually generate buyers. She is not feeling optimistic.

You know what?

God says He will "satisfy us in the morning with [His] unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days." (Psalm 90:14)

I'm so glad it's one of those days! :-)

Counting Down!

Four days until Daddy comes to visit!!!!

Liberty and I have drawn a calendar on the white board and every morning we cross off another day.

Oh! I can't wait!!!