Change

Open my garage and you will smell the winds of change. Well, actually the smell is musty old cardboard boxes dug out of multiple dumpsters around the city, but to me it is the smell of something new and exciting. It is the smell of dead winter plants returning to life under the spring Sun. It is the smell of hot dirt in a new garden. It is the smell of my toddlers sweet sweaty hair after playing in her new giant backyard. I am fired up about this change of address. Almost everything is done - mail forwarded, utilities transferred, and belongings (almost) all packed. This ship sails on Tuesday.

Our Christmas was different but fun this year. We experienced our families annual get together via my brother's web cam on his laptop strategically positioned in the corner of a room. Thus allowing us visual and audible access to all the present ripping and pie eating. Why didn't we make the short five hour journey to be with family during Christmas, you ask? Toddler + 3 week old + wife still recovering from a c-section and unable to lift said toddler + 5 hours in a car x (Toddler + screaming baby + 5 hours in a car) x
poopy diapers ⁿ. It was nice to be a part even if it was through a small impersonal window.

White Christmas

Merry Christmas!

Fishing

Is there anything better than fishing? I think not. I miss fishing. When I was younger I would fish all the time. As you can see from the picture, my father had a rod and reel in these hands as long as I can remember (not only that but what an awesome outfit). Here is a true tragedy: it has been almost 3 full years since the last time I baited a hook and dropped a line in the drink. This is something that needs to be remedied. I hope to log many hours in the years to come fishing with my own children, but for now I have to stop typing and watch ABC videos on SesameStreet.org with the toddler next to me begging for "ADCD, ADCD..." Technology sucks.

Uugg Packing

I have packed up all of my worldly possessions into an ever-growing number of cardboard boxes and moved them to a new residence six times in the past eight years. This move will be number seven. I am going to tell you right now...moving sucks! Wrapping, packing, labeling, lifting, shifting, sliding, straining, grunting, and groaning have worn down my soul to a tissue thin barrier. That tiny barrier between sane and insane is the only thing preventing me from taking all of my crap and throwing it into a blazing fire.

I could just live in the woods. No taxes. No job. No crowded grocery stores and bumper to bumper traffic. Just man, nature, and a homemade weapon for hunting. I'm talking Man vs. Wild combined with Survivorman times forever. If I was single with no kids this would be a very viable option.

Weaning Cupcake

We were sitting at the breakfast table yesterday chowing down on some syrup saturated waffles when we heard Isabel say "Izzy feed!" I looked down the table and there sat my little year and half old with her shirt up and Cupcake (her favorite doll) up to her chest apparently attempting to breastfeed as her mommy does new baby brother. It was hilarious. I don't really remember what we told her afterword but at some point I remember her yelping, "Daddy, Booby Milk. HAhaHAha!" My kid is nuts. She will be the one at school talking about the anatomical terms for usually unmentioned body parts, the one who spoils the idea of Santa Claus and the one who tells her classmates where babies really come from. She is superwoman. She is Einstein. She is Marion Jones minus the drug abuse. She is superior in every way to all of your children - future, past and present. Don't be jealous, just accept it.

Now since we have established that, let us move on to better stuff like the fact that we are moving into a sweet new rent house. That's right people. We got approved. This place is perfect. It is a small little house on one acre - half of that wooded with tall trees. The property is surrounded by property. Everyone around it has multiple acres for horses and such. There is a ton of perfect sunny space for a full garden this spring (most likely in raised planter boxes since most landlords don't really appreciate tenants tilling up their land). The little house has a sweet living room with ceiling to floor windows on three sides looking out over an open field. It has a small deck on the back of the house and a covered porch on the side where much coffee and conversations will be devoured as suns set and stars sparkle. We are really excited about this next phase of life on the Front Porch Farm. Maybe now, being trapped in the city life will be less like a life sentence with no parole, and more like 3 to 5 for tax fraud in a federal penitentiary with tennis courts and knitting lessons. The big move is New Year's Day, so I am off to start packing.

The Chaos and the Calm

A Lemony Catastrophe

Our soon to be former townhome complex is having its annual Christmas party tomorrow evening and since we live in one of the odd numbered homes we were assigned to bring a dessert. Now, I am not really one for social engagements - I much rather prefer sitting at home with a good book wearing clothes so comfortable that they surely are not suitable for public use (maybe I just don't spend enough money on clothes but their is a noticeable difference between the comfort of clothes deemed fashionable and the clothes us normal people lounge around in at home - why can't sweat pants be cool or a shirt with crusty pit stains be all the rage). Although I would rather stay home, we decided it would be nice to drop by for a few minutes, if for no other reason than to show off my perfectly perfected lemon bars courtesy of Martha Stewart's Cookies. So, I carefully and lovingly spent this afternoon preparing those delicious squares of tart goodness to share with my unfriendly neighbors who undoubtedly, with a single taste, would loathe their very existence for not having got to know me during my short stay in their neighborhood and would instantly shower me with offerings and gifts for blessing them with the greatest treats to ever cross their lips.

I donned my oven mitts and gently slid the 13x9 dish of sugary lemon heaven from the oven rack, I let it cool slightly and as I lifted the edges of the parchment paper (which I have never used before and will never use again)...PLOP! I lost my grip and my lemon squares became ugly lemon smush. My first thought of "OH CRAP!" was quickly interrupted by "Oh well." For I quickly realized the disaster was much to my favor. Although they look hideous they taste exactly the same. I no longer have to share my lemon smush/squares. Therefore I learned, when life gives you lemon smush just eat it and be glad you don't have to share all the time.

New Casa?

Cross your fingers, make a wish, say a prayer, or whatever it is you do because I may have found the perfect rent house with a TON of space for all my things that grow - like kids and plants. Hopefully, we can finalize this baby. Stay tuned.

Hot Chocolate or Eggnog?

Life has been crazy this last week or so, but it has also been extra joyful. Despite the new baby sleep deprivation and the toddler who has suddenly decided now would be the perfect time to turn her toddler-drive on full throttle, life is amazing. I am hard pressed to remember very many times in my life better than the last couple of days I have shared with my family. Sure I am trapped in the city life. Sure things would be even better if I were sitting on a porch in the country looking out over my land sipping apple cider made from my own trees. But right now I am smiling and loving my little family. I don't have a home in the country yet, but I have a steaming mug of hot chocolate calling my name in the kitchen and a jug of cold eggnog in the fridge just waiting to be swigged. Folks, life doesn't get much better than having a choice between hot chocolate and eggnog.

The garden is no more. That's right, I ripped all those old tired hags straight out of their stale beds and laid them to rest in a small nook hidden from view around the corner of my house (I am not allowed to compost, otherwise I would). It was sad to see the old plants go, but I also had a surge of excitement as I started thinking about planning for next spring. It stands to be my best year yet. We will hopefully be moving to a new rental home soon, which will allow me to grow a larger quantity of produce. Until then, I will keep sipping hot chocolate and chugging cold eggnog.

Almost Over the Hump

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sleep.

Hearty Breakfast with a Side of Stress

I am currently typing with one hand. The other is holding my brand-spanking-new baby boy - Nathan - all 8 pounds 12 ounces and 21 and a half inches long of him. I loved him instantly. A lot of proud fathers like to proclaim their child is special or unique but mine is the real deal. He was born with a super power. It must be a unique mutation on the genetic level, which has left him with the ability to suck all of the sleep out of the world. Wherever he goes he sleeps, while others suffer in an insomniatic state of no sleep and crusted over mental abilities. He is going to rule the world some day.

I remember the first several weeks of my daughters existence being rough, but I must have blocked out the full blast of the harsh winds of remembrance. This no sleep business is horrible son. In fact, I just realized that I am sitting here typing instead of sleeping, while he and the toddler and the mommy are all catching some heavy zzzz's. Therefore, I am going to stop being and idiot and go get....zzzzzzzzzzzz.

Meet Nathan

He is here. We are home. Nocona is recovering. Isabel is bonkers. I am exhausted. More Later.