At this point, it has been so long since I've written that I don't think I have any readers anymore, but today I really felt like writing, so who cares if no one is reading!  I've been distracted lately, by more than a few extraordinary events.  

Chronologically, the first distraction has been having my head examined!  I know, I know, it's about time!! lol  But since having Evey, my already annoying migraines went supernova - striking unexpectedly, where they used to be fairly regular and predicable - clustering for days on end - and adding frightening new symptoms like vertigo and numbness.  Consequently, Tysen insisted I start seeing some doctors.  After past negative experiences, I was cynical, and it hasn't been an easy couple of months, with tests of every kind and experimenting with medications, but I'm pretty happy with the results.  Instead of daily chronic headaches with frequent migraines, I have now gone as many as four days without any sort of headache, and the migraine frequency and severity has been cut about in half!  Down side, the meds I'm now on make me drowsy, and it is impossible to get up in the mornings!  Most days Tysen gets the boys ready and takes them to school while I sleep through the whole thing, alarm, kids, and all.  The girls come in and wake me as soon as they get up, and I zombie my way through the morning.  By lunch I'm totally normal, and I'm told that as I build up tolerance to the drug, I will get less and less sleepy.  The saga still continues though, because I have some random spots in my brain - likely results of severe migraines - that are under investigation.  I underwent an MRV yesterday that was absolute torture.  On the upside, I get to blame everything now on this - "I forgot that completely, but you know, I do have a spotty brain."

The second HUGE distraction is Tysen's sudden inspiration to buy a new house.  He came home after a day of financial meetings that discussed the interest rates and opportunities they present, and lunch with a friend who designs homes, completely convinced that now is the perfect window of opportunity for us.  I was less enthusiastic.  Why?  Because I am a tangled mess of over-analytical, over-sentimental, over-thinking!  It's not that a new house doesn't sound good, it's just that I don't know what I want.  And in the meantime, I'm losing all my feminist credentials as everyone is made perfectly aware that Tysen wants to move and is moving us wether or not I want to.  So I feel some need to set the record straight on that, and maybe work out how I feel by writing about it.  

First, if I said to Tysen - "I do not want to move, I want to stay in this house because..." and was able to present him with some rational reasons, he would never go against my wishes (and I wouldn't let him!!).  But in the void of my indecision, why not trust his decisiveness?  The For Sale sign went in our yard yesterday, and it is totally freaking me out.  When I told Chloe what it means, she cried for 20 min. but then asked if we could go see some model homes today.  Every model we walk through Chloe says she wants to live in - which I sympathize with - but she cries and cries at the idea of leaving this house.  It is no wonder that Tysen is confused by me when I'm acting the same way as the three year old!!

Now, in perfect impossible decision practice, I'll list the pros and cons of each and see which list is better.

Staying Put Pros: the excellent neighbors next door. - I know that some say I should "cut the chord" and move away from the parents just as a matter of maturity, but I have so much loved living next to them that it truly is the most compelling reason to stay.  Financial Security - Tysen assures me that we can afford a bigger, newer house, and we pre-qualified easily, but we know for sure that we can make this house payment, and a new, larger payment may force cut-backs in other lifestyle choices.  I would rather be a stay-at-home mom in a little, old, creaky house, than have to go to work to afford a pretty new home.  Sentimentality - how can I walk away from the place where I brought my babies home, where they took their first steps?  Blood, Sweat, and Tears - this place was a mess when we bought it.  We have invested $60,000 in fixing, renovating, and upgrading the home - not to mention the hours and hours of our lives dedicated to those projects.  My kitchen is pure joy to me, because I picked everything out, I tiled and grouted the backsplash, together with Papa I tiled and grouted the fireplace, when pregnant and ill, I learned to use a grinder and installed much of the rock on the house facade.  Everywhere I look, I can say, "I did that!" - Other neighbors.  Our neighbors like us, especially Tysen's love for beautiful landscaping.  I know that I shouldn't feel responsible for everyone's lives, but I do feel keenly the apprehension they all have at what kind of neighbors will replace us.

Staying Put Cons: I never planned to stay here forever.  We had a five year plan that turned into ten years and counting.  I don't like the floorplan - I want a greatroom off the kitchen and a small formal living room.  Even if we finish the basement, the family would all be downstairs while I'm upstairs in the kitchen.  I never wanted that.  - One bathroom, no master bath - tiny dining space. Once Evey is out of the high-chair, we won't be able to all sit at the table together.  There isn't enough room for a table big enough.  We can't build out back either because of the shape of the yard. - The house still has problems.  The floors creak EVERYWHERE, the bathroom floor is rotting away and needs to be replaced, and we're still daily finding insane things the Booths did that we have to repair.  I never have felt like it's my house, especially when I'm constantly living with decisions they made (the house still has a smell that isn't bad, but is "their" smell, and nothing we do, paint, replace everything, air fresheners, gets rid of it completely)! - The bulk of the yard is front yard, which means lots of landscaping, but little real space for hanging out. - The neighborhood is nice (our corner of it) and quiet, but that's because there are no kids.  All around us are retirees or near retirees (or non-english speaking families).  There are no friends around for the kids.  Church even gears for an older audience.  It would be wonderful to be part of a younger neighborhood. - Schools suck.  The local school gets a rating of 3 out of 10 on the biggest school rating website.  So the kids go to the charter, which has an educational philosophy that I disagree with more and more every year.  The school is uptight, negative, and unhealthily competitive.  If we stay, I don't know what to do about education for next year.

Moving Pros: Bigger, newer house.  Hopefully fewer constant repairs and replacements.  A floor plan of my choosing.  More space.  - Younger neighborhood, not guaranteed, but that's where we keep looking for houses.  Friends for the kids.  Potentially great schools.  A new adventure.  All the stuff listed in Staying Put Cons!

Moving Cons: Financial scariness.   Disappointing next door neighbors. Leaving the known and comfortable for the unknown.  Probable year-round school.  Landscaping a new yard from scratch.  Still can't afford a 4 bedroom, so I'd get my formal living room and great room, but would have to finish a basement bedroom either way.  Leaving my gorgeous custom kitchen.  All the stuff listed in Staying Put Pros.

So there it all is.  Whew!  Doubt anyone but me will ever get through it all, but it feels good to sort it out like that.  Did it make my decision though?  Of course not!!  Because you still have to add into the discussion all my psychological insanity and guilt about stupid things like, "the pioneers raised families of 12 in one room cabins - what kind of wimp am I to say I can't breathe in this house with five kids?" and a whole pile of irrational, strange hang-ups and I'm still all tied up in knots.  Who, in their right mind, would hesitate when their spouse comes home, lays out the financial possibilities in black and white, and says that he can give you a better, bigger, more beautiful home?  Who turns around and says, "well, I don't know!  I'm not sure."  Seriously, Chloe would be better at making this decision than I am!!

And between headache stuff and house stuff and all the day-to-day stuff, my head may very well explode!!!  Help!

How do our kids ever grow up even halfway normal when parents do our best to throw them a curveball rule-reversal every time a holiday rolls around?

For example:

Don't talk to strangers - except at Christmas when I tell you to go talk to that fat guy in a red suit.  Wait, don't just talk to him, sit on his lap!  And be happy about it.

It's not polite to ask people to give you things - except at Christmas when you can tell a complete stranger to bring you a whole list of stuff, and at Halloween, when you walk around demanding that people give you candy.

Never eat anything you find on the ground - unless it is Easter - then the more you pick up off the ground, the better egg-hunter you are.  Eat up!

It's mean to pinch - unless it's St. Patrick's Day.  (eurgh - that one causes trouble!) 

It's rude to ring the doorbell and run - unless it's Valentine's.

And I'm sure there are more that elude me right now.  See what I mean though?  Warped!

Chloe is asking Santa for a Little Cute Baby for Christmas.  You may recall that Chloe already has a doll she has named Little Cute Baby.  She got her for Christmas two years ago, and the doll accompanies us almost everywhere, including camping and vacations.   Consequently, she is starting to get quite worn.  So, Chloe is asking for a replacement - an identical replacement - a brand new, exactly the same Little Cute Baby.  Oddly enough, this has been a dilemma for me.   There is some part of me that is sad about the whole thing.  Where is the sentimentality?  Is everything so disposable nowdays?  The ease and comfort of simply exchanging one thing for another, newer, better, should be practical and logical, and yet for some reason it disturbs me.  Maybe it is because dolls are closer to people than things, because of their shape and because of how much love is invested in them daily.  Perhaps the real fear is that one day I'll overhear Chloe's tiny voice saying, "Mommy is getting pretty worn, maybe we should get a newer one!"

Okay - another Seth moment.  Today when we got home from school, Seth said, "Could I have something to eat? The hot dog at lunch was enough to sustain me until now, but I would love a little snack."  He talks like a novel!  A nine year old using the word "sustain?"  I've always loved vocabulary, but now I'm raising vocab freaks!  A couple of weeks ago at our friends' house, I was explaining that my kids are now 1,3,5,7,&9 years old.  Seth said, "in other words, we have now embarked upon the stage of odd numbers."  You should have seen how our friend looked at Seth!  It almost made me snort my drink!  But then this is the kid who, when he was in kindergarten, explained to me that he had scraped his hands because, "I trod upon my pants and tripped."  Seriously - part of me is totally proud, and part is a little afraid!  Seth actually wanted to perform sentence graphing for his talent at the talent show last month.  Not at all normal, and completely my fault!  Can kids still be cool and talk like that?  Or will he be ostracized by his peers forever?  Aarrgh - this parenting thing is complicated!!!  Smart, cool, athletic, ambitious - but not geek, arrogant, over-competitive, or selfish.  Where is that line?

The alarm didn't go off yesterday.  Tysen and I were woken up almost an hour late by Seth, who walked in and said, "either the alarm didn't go off, or else I slept until Saturday.  Which is it?"  Sometimes the things they say are so funny I just can't stand it!

A few years back, we finally gave in and bought a fake Christmas tree.  It was a close-out, after-Christmas deal, and we had a ton of trouble finding a live tree in our price range that year, so we decided to move on.  The next Christmas, instead of looking in a lot, we pulled out our plastic tree and set it up.  You know what?  It wasn't all that bad!  No frozen toes or dismay at prices at the tree lot, or worrying about how long the tree would last before becoming a fire hazard and picking needles out of the carpet until spring.  But what I really did miss was the smell - that fantastic, irreplaceable aroma of fresh pine that reminded me of childhood and ushered Christmas into the house.  I love that smell!

Two days ago we hauled the fake tree out of the basement.  The first thing that I noticed when I walked into the living room after the tree had been set up, was that it does indeed have a smell.  It filled the room with it's own aroma - it smells like fresh plastic.  You know, the way a new toy smells, just out of the box.  And so my natural irony concluded that perhaps it is appropriate that a heavily commercialized holiday should smell like plastic!  Imagine it now - Plastic scented holiday candles, plastic scented potpourri.  They wouldn't call it "plastic," but instead, "the true scent of Christmas."  Out with pine and cinnamon - let them go the way of wassail and sleigh rides, nostalgia for times past that mostly just live in songs.  There is a new tradition in the making!  What do you think?  What other scents could be added to my new line of "True Scent" holiday candles? 

The washing machine just ate Chloe's comforter.  Months ago the washer went skewompus and the agitator only moves in one direction instead of going back and forth.  Instead of repairing or replacing, I improvised:  I turn the machine on the fastest agitating mode.  The way I figure, really fast one direction is about the same as medium speed two directions, right?  Worked fine -- until today.  Luckily, I was in the basement when the machine started jumping around and making crazy noises - who knows what might have happened if I hadn't stopped it when I did?  As it is, the comforter was twisted around clear inside the inner guts of the machine,  the central agitator has come apart in several pieces, and I am soaking wet from wrestling the twisted, torn, dripping comforter from the machine's clutches.  Told you I had a Greek Curse!! 

I hear the flu season is going to be terrible this year.  Is there ever a year that they don't say that?  I'm waiting for the day when I open up my newspaper and read a headline declaring a projected healthy winter: Experts Predict Slow Flu Season: Don't worry about shots this year.

  But no matter how crappy everyone else is going to feel, my house will be flu free!  Why?  Because I have spent the past several days jumping through the craziest hoops to get all of my household immunized!  That may not sound like much of an accomplishment, but it truly is.  Babies need to have two flu shots, given in half-doses.  Children under 9 need to get the shot from a pediatric nurse.  And Tysen's work does free flu shots for adults, but you have to be there within an exact window of time.  So that is how our flu shots became a fiasco!

October 6th - Evey gets part one of her flu shot.  Must get it early if the second one, exactly one month later, is to take effect before the flu season.

November 3rd - The Monday morning after Halloween weekend.  I wander around the house in a daze just grateful to still be standing and wondering where to even begin with the mountains of mess throughout the house.  Phone rings: "uuu Honey, you're going to kill me, but today is flu shot day at work and you need to be here at 12:15."  Really.  Change my clothes, do my hair, change toddler and baby clothes, do their hair, take kindergartener to school.  On the way to school my phone rings: "uuu Honey, since Seth is nine, he doesn't have to have a pediatric nurse, so he can come in and get his shot too if you check him out of school."  Great!  Park at the school instead of just dropping off kindergartener, haul the baby and toddler into the school, wait in office forever until they realize that the reason no teachers are responding is that the class is at lunch.  How happy do you think Seth was to see me at lunch?  How much happier do you think he was when I told him that I was there to take him to get a flu shot?  Needless to say, there was some foot-dragging.  Back in the van - book it downtown to hubby's office, circle and find a parking spot, wait at the elevators - Tysen gets off the elevator with a look of extreme caution on his face.  "uuu, Honey, you're going to kill me, but I got the date wrong.  Flu shots are Friday." Really.

Friday, November 7th - Early day at school.  That means that instead of checking Seth out of school (again) when I drop off Lily, I have to go back and get him to go down for flu shots at work.  10:40 - drop off kindergartener, go home, putter for 40 min., go back to school and check Seth out of school, pause and wonder for a moment if I should just go ahead and check Lily & Isaac out too, because school is out at quarter to one and that is really pushing it.   But the prospect of trailing all five around downtown outweighs my better judgement, and I leave them in school.  Back downtown with the pedal to the floor.  Getting off the freeway, phone rings: "uuuu Honey, where are you?  We're supposed to be there (two floors up from where he is sitting) in five minutes!"  Really.  Arrive, park, elevators, forms to fill out, hand forms in: "where is Seth?" the nice nurse asks.  "Over there, hiding," is Tysen's response.  "Oh, we also have the nasal mist, if he would prefer that.  And what about your little one (Chloe); would she like the mist instead as well?"  My turn, "umm, we understood that it was only for adults because there would be no pediatric nurse."  "Well, we do, in fact, have a pediatric nurse.  She is happy to help all of your children." Except the ones I left at school!!!  Really.  End up 30 min late to pick up the school kids - 30 minutes!!!  Just as I turn onto the school's street, my empty light comes on on the van's gas tank.  Quick call to Tysen - "how long can I still go when the empty light is on?"  Get to the school.  The guilt I was feeling at leaving them waiting that long was ridiculous, right?  I mean, by the time they get their packs and jackets, get out of the school, and play on the grass like they always want to - it's not a big deal, right?  I pull up to find them curled up in balls, huddling in a hole by the side of a hill because, as the remaining students waiting for rides thinned out, they were left conspicuous targets for some older boys who kept stealing backpacks, gloves, shoes, whatever they could get, and taunting them.  Made me want to cry!  If they had told me before I pulled away from that curb, boy howdy there would have been some bully boy heads rolling!!!  I thought they were just playing, not trying to hide!!  I'm a terrible mother!!

Today, November 10th - Kept Isaac home from the first part of school to keep an appointment I had made with the pediatrician weeks ago for an AM time before Lily goes to school.  Four little kids and me running (well, Evey doesn't run - she just clings to me like a monkey while I run) through the parking lot, in the pouring rain, with Chloe crying that she doesn't want her poka-dot pants to get wet, to get to the pediatrician's office to wait for forty minutes to have a nurse give them THE EXACT SAME NASAL MIST!  The mist doesn't even require a pediatric nurse!  But Evey did get the second half of her SHOT.

So now our entire family has had our flu shots/nasal mists and we're ready to face the impending flu season.  And my Mom thinks the whole thing is a conspiracy between the government and the pharmaceutical companies!  I'm beginning to believe it.