Home, Home on the Range

So, we're in the new house - if you can call 30 years old new. It smells new with the fresh paint job it just had.

We've been moving things over in dribs and drabs, starting with the kids crap. We did a Clean Sweep with pristine daughter's room....emphasis on her pristine nature as diabolically opposed to her room's. We first thought of calling Haul Yer Junk to come in and suck out her toys and schtuff into the vortex of its pit. But ultimately, we ended up emptying out all her toys onto some tarps and blankets in our outdoor courtyard and separating them into the Junk, Donate, Keep and Sell piles.

I think we have an invisible critter in our courtyard though because at least a dozen times yesterday, I would mysteriously find that something that I had placed into the sell or donate pile would somehow end up back in Keep. Very strange. As were the stuffies I found my daughter sleeping with last night....all were eleventh hour salvages from the same outcast toy piles.

I tried to cut her some slack but not much because she is a Toys 'R Us outlet store waiting to happen. So it's not as though getting rid of a toy or two or five hundred is a hardship for her. And yet the tears flowed anyways. What if no one will love my (insert useless toy name here)? They will, honey, we'd assure her. They may even love it more....(sentence left dangling to infer that perhaps pay-it-forward child may only have 1o or less toys and may thus, be able to devote way more time, care and attention to the toy rediscovered in the Clean Sweep that had previously been buried in the bowels of her bedroom for God knows how many months).

The kids brought a couple of neighbor pals over (current, old place neighbors) to the new pad last night and they all sat in the hot tub. Which wasn't quite full. And I had no idea how to work it. But it was hot. And it was a tub. But it was not full nor bubbly. However, it seemed to appease their desires to sit in a hot tub. Mother of same neighbor children let the cat out of the bag last night though and I was none too impressed.

She called me over and commented how our 10-year old son had mentioned to her something about how peeing in our hot tub will cause the hot tub to shut down and necessitate a visit from the friendly, neighborhood repairman, an incident we all wish to avoid at all costs. So moral of the story? No peeing in the hot tub. That's what toilets are for.

But she thought perhaps he was serious (which he was - it was the story I was sticking to after all and I told it with my ultra-supremo straight face - the one that is de facto seriouso and which alleviates any/all doubts on matters from whether there is a supper policeman who shows up at the door to haul away children who don't finish their dinner, to what happens if you get caught picking your nose in public).

So she outs me publicly, by laughingly assuring her kids in front of mine that this was simply not true. And so I then had no choice but to chide and chastise her equally as publicly, by advising her that I didn't know what hot tub she had ever sat in, but this is how our particular hot tub works, said in my best nudge, nudge, wink, wink tone, and it literally will shut the motor down if it detects pee in the system. I then looked over at my son who was eagerly awaiting the verdict, and somehow managed to steadfastly hold his questioning gaze, thereby reassuring him that mom was not telling him a grand fib. This neighbor mom finally got it, but only sort of....because she then admitted that she prefers her kids to pee in the lake so she doesn't have to haul them out and run them to the washroom.

Too much information.

This is the same mom who thinks nothing of letting her snotty-nosed toddler run around with green boogers dangling from his nose. Which is fine if that sort of thing doesn't bother you. I happen to have a different tolerance threshold and tend to be the type that thinks nothing of wiping other kid's noses, if need be. And this is the same toddler who just projectile vomited all over our outdoor courtyard last week, scant millimeters away from an Afghani kilim carpet we are rather partial to. Thankfully, his mom had the good grace to come clean it up, hose it down and Lysol disinfect the heck out of it.

Anyways, long day short, we got through it but it was a painful process sorting through Polly Pocket pieces. Who the hell invented Polly Pocket? More to the point, I would like to meet a girl who keeps her Polly Pocket pieces together in one spot. Or clothes on her Barbies. Or wheels on her buses. Or feet on her Bratz dolls. Feetless Bratz dolls with minute waistlines, huge hips and monster eyes and lips freak me out.

The saga continues this week. Demolishing rooms...our closet, the kitchen and this office will be the next biggie events. We're making two-three loads a day over to the new haus and then these next two weekends, we'll do the big furniture loads. I won't be here the second weekend. I'll be in Oregon on the first annual SSBM blogger getaway with Becca, Tanya, Jeri, Christina (the Beast Mom herself), her sister, Grace, and her college roomie, Chris.

I didn't exactly plan our move to coincide with this Oregon coast girlie getaway but it would be a drag to have to cancel plans that have been almost a year in the making. So, I'm hoping we'll get the bulk of the move done, save for the bulky and heavy furniture, done prior to my exodus from the state. The only thing I'm good for when it comes to moving big furniture is either (a) getting in the way; or (b) making annoying suggestions on where said furniture should be placed in a room.

In between packing and moving, we're also furniture, appliance and window-blind shopping. We just bought a new Bosch washer and dryer. The appliance sales guy was a turd. Why do people, people who hate people...work in people-oriented industries? Gets me.
And our son starts summer school tomorrow. Which he's dreading, especially because he is now the proud dad of a Webkinz panda so he'll miss spending every waking moment with his new pet. Thanks, Brenda and Hollie, for fostering yet another cyber addiction for my children. Actually, it's perfectly good, safe, cyber fun. My daughter loves it. It's her first time really hanging on the computer and the games are perfectly geared to her age. She has a yorkshire terrier and a polar bear.

So that's my moving story and I'm sticking to it. I'll be counting back and forth trips for this, our first in-town move in a million years, just for fun. So I can write a book. How to Move in 83 Easy Trips.