Saved by the Bell Storm

If things had gone according to plan, I would be in New York City tonight. IF they had gone according to plan.

They didn't.

I was supposed to fly out at 6:00 a.m. this morning for a conference all day, then half day Saturday and be back home before dinner. Short trip, but a part of me was still dreading it for one reason: I didn't want to be away from my girl! I've never been away from Nora overnight before, and I'm not sure I'm ready!

Last night, I was preparing to go to bed before my super early alarm, and I decided to print out my boarding pass so I could bypass the ticket counter in the morning. Well, thank goodness I checked, because when I got to the page and entered my confirmation number, I was informed that my flight was cancelled. Interesting.

I called Jet Blue right away to see what the deal was, and I soon found out that my flight was cancelled due to... weather. 8+ hours in advance. Weird. And try as they might have, they could not get me rebooked on any flight before 5:00 p.m. tonight. Considering Day 1 of the conference would be over by then, that news effectively made the trip pointless for me. I cancelled the reservation, got a refund, and went to bed.

This morning, instead of getting up at 3:30 a.m., I got up at normal time. I got to see my girl. And I turned on the Today Show to find... absolutely beautiful weather in NYC. And upon checking, every other 6:00 a.m. flight (different airlines) to JFK took off on time. And my flight was the only one that Jet Blue had cancelled.

Bastards! If this had been a vacation, I would've blown a gasket. Yet I found myself calm about the situation, because, well, there were too many "pros" to staying home.

Am I disappointed about missing the conference? Sure. Would it have been nice to make a quick trip to NYC? Yes.

But I got to drop off and pick up Nora from daycare today. I got to play with her and feed her and read to her. I got to put her to bed. I get to spend the entirety of my weekend at home with my little family. So, in the end, who can be mad about that?

The "first night away from baby" milestone will have to be saved for another time.

I'm so relieved.

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Negotiating = Maddening

The past two days, we've been negotiating the terms of our contract with the sellers of our new house, based on the inspection report.

This morning, we got their counter-offer to our initial requests. And, well, our heads nearly exploded.

I might've freaked out on our realtor and I might've dropped off Nora at daycare in tears. (Tears were mine. Not hers.) If this process doesn't end up taking 10 years off my life, I will be shocked.

I could tell you all of the details, but it would take forever and most of you would probably find it to be extremely boring, so I'll just say that there are no MAJOR flaws with the house. No dealbreakers, anyway. Still, we were tempted more than a few times today to tell the sellers where to shove their offer and walk.

First, there are a dozen or so little nitpicky, "nuisance" items that are for us to take care of on our own over the years we'll live there. (And believe me, we are going to be living there FOREVER, because OHMYGOD we are never, EVER doing this again. Feel free to remind me of that if we ever get a wild hair and start discussing moving. Just say NO.)

There were also a few bigger things, things that were deemed officially "defective" by our inspector. So, we picked our top three priority things and sent them over to the seller, requesting that they address them. One of the things was addressed right away. Another thing was discussed, and determined to be OK (although we essentially had to concede without REALLY knowing for sure that it's OK). And with the third thing, well, the sellers decided to be assholes.

After long, drawn-out drama during which we argued with our realtor and sought several "sight unseen" estimates from electrician friends and acquaintances, we went back to the sellers and we ultimately got our way--at least on this one thing.

THANK GOODNESS.

There is not a single part of this process that has been "easy." It is unbelievable. I might be crazy, but I think that we have MAYBE paid our dues by now. I am praying to the real estate gods that they will send us a FREAKING BUYER for our place now. Amen.

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How Stuff Works

These days, Nora is figuring out how stuff works.

Every morning (and sometimes in the evening), she turns the music/lights toy on in her crib. She often uses her feet. She knows exactly where the button is and what it does. She kicks it repeatedly, turning it on and off. On and off.

The wheels in her head are turning constantly. Her brain is a sponge. It's really an amazing thing to witness.

Last week, I was playing with her on the floor. We were playing with her ball popper, which we brought out and started to play with a few weeks ago. She used to just grab the balls off the track, hold them, play with them, stick them in her mouth. But last week, I saw her put the ball back in the track. It was the first time I had seen her do it, but it seemed purposeful. So we continued playing, and then... she did it again. And again. Now, she does it like it's no big thing. She still grabs the balls out of the track to play with them, but when she's done, she puts them back. She knows how it works.

Last night, we were making dinner, and Nora was playing nearby on the floor, with a few toys around her, including the ball popper and her teapot. The teapot set has three little desserts that come with it that she likes to play with. At one point, Michael and I watched her play by herself from afar, and noticed that she was taking one of the little desserts and placing it in the track to the ball popper. (The desserts are roughly the same size as the balls.) It's not perfectly round, so of course it wasn't rolling anywhere. She'd place it in the track, watch for a second, then take it back out. Then she'd try again. We commented on it to each other, laughing about how cute it was. It's so funny to see how her mind is working. She's understanding cause and effect. She's figuring out how the pieces of the "puzzle" go together in life. I love it.

After observing for a minute or so, we went back to making dinner, ate it, and got Nora ready for bed. As I was rocking/nursing Nora in her room, Michael was cleaning up the toys in the living room. I suddenly heard him bust out laughing, and I called out, "What?" He soon brought me a photo to show me.

The dessert wouldn't roll down the track, so... she put it down the vertical chute (where the balls normally pop out). It fit perfectly.

My child is a genius.

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Recent Read: Two Kisses for Maddy by Matt Logelin

Oh, where to start.

It's not a surprise that I would buy and appreciate this book, as I have been a follower of Matt's blog for quite some time now. In fact, I blogged about him way back when.

It's likely that many of you know the basis of his story. After a complicated pregnancy, his wife, Liz, gave birth to their daughter, Madeline. Although she was premature, she was healthy, and their ordeal appeared to be over. But then, just 27 hours after Madeline's birth, Liz suddenly died of a pulmonary embolism. She never even held the daughter that her body had worked so hard for. Obviously devastated, Matt was left to pick up the pieces and care for newborn Madeline as a single dad. A tragic tale, to say the least... and this is real life.

In Two Kisses for Maddy, Matt tells his story--beginning with how he met Liz, and a brief account of their relationship, marriage, and pregnancy. After the unthinkable happens, the remainder of the book focuses on the aftermath, and how Maddy is the life preserver that keeps Matt's head above water. In short, you're reading how they survived their first year without Liz.

The book itself is a nice departure from Matt's fragmented style of writing on his blog. Although most of the story was not new to me, it was nice to be able to read it in a beginning-to-end format. For me, the best part about reading it was feeling like I got to know a little more about Liz. Through all of Matt's blog posts, there have been bits and pieces describing who Liz was, but never before have all of those pieces come together like they did in this book. I got a kick out of learning that she regularly cursed like a sailor (I've been known to drop a few f-bombs in everyday life). It was nice to read more details about Matt and Liz's beginning--how they met at a gas station, and how they spent most of their dating years doing the long-distance thing.

Of course, being able to imagine who Liz was as a person also makes losing her that much more difficult on the reader. It's easier to imagine the devastation of that loss for Matt, Maddy, and all of their family. Just because I knew the story didn't make her death any easier to read about, although I kept it together fairly well... until the chapter about her funeral, that is. Holy moly.

Now that I have a baby girl of my own, I feel like the story affects me in an entirely different way. It's not to say that I couldn't sympathize before, and it's not that I couldn't feel sad for Matt, and for Maddy. But now that I have Nora, I found myself thinking even more about the things that Liz never got to do or see.

This story, like many others, makes you realize how fragile life is. It's cliche, but the lesson is to not take life for granted. I never even imagined that I could go into the hospital to have my baby and not come back out. Neither did Liz. Are we supposed to live in fear of the worst possible things happening to us? I don't think so. But should we be tremendously grateful and be sure to appreciate it when we're blessed with good outcomes? Yes, we should probably try.

A happy book? No. But many of the good ones never are. In the end, it's exactly what the book claims to be--"A memoir of loss and love."

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Contract

Well...

We went out and bought ourselves a house.

We love it, and cannot wait to live there. It's the size we want, with many of the features we want. Clean, hardwood floors, updated bathrooms, two-car garage, fenced-in backyard, partially finished basement, located on a cul-de-sac street. It needs a little TLC cosmetically, but nothing major--just some paint and ripping up some carpet in a few rooms.

So, I guess you can say that 50% of my stress about this whole situation is alleviated. Only now the stress about the second part--you know, what to do with our current place--seems to increase tenfold. We're still hoping to be able to sell it, and thankfully, it seems that we still have some time to do so. But we're ramping up the efforts, that's for sure. Our current back-up plan is to find a tenant.

That's right--we might become landlords. Not by choice, but the market is shitty right now and it is what it is. We'll do what we have to do to avoid having to pay two mortgages.

Over Memorial Day weekend, three new listings popped up that met our parameters, and looked interesting to us. We made appointments for Wednesday to see them, so we did a little marathon house-hunting last night, and it turns out we found "the one." We've seen some seriously messed up properties during this process, and it was refreshing to finally find one that we felt was WORTH the asking price.

Thank you to all of you who have been sending good thoughts our way for a while now. Things appear to be coming together, but we just need this other piece of the puzzle to fall into place, too. We are choosing to have faith that it will all work out, but this Type-A lady is not one to fly by the seat of her pants. To say that I am slightly uncomfortable with the situation is probably a bit of an understatement.

Assuming our inspection goes well and we can figure out a date that's good for all involved (we're having a little trouble working around vacations), we will likely be moving into our new house in late July/early August. Yippee!

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