Movement

A few days ago I just wanted movement on Garry's job situation.

Be careful what you wish for.

On Friday Garry was called and told that they changed their mind and he does have to take the training course at Quantico. It will last for 11 weeks. Starts at the end of September.

The good news is that he should be able to come home for weekends. The bad news is overwhelming. Trying to take care of the girls, alone, while trying to sell (and clean!) the house, alone, and if we do sell having to move our household across country, alone.

Ugh.

I Feel A Tantrum Coming On. . .

I feel a tantrum coming on, and unfortunately it is not looming from my four year old or three year old or even baby. It's me. I'm getting ready to scream, shout, and declare life completely unfair.

Today another townhouse went on the market across the street. Exact same floor plan. Exact same price. But they have the coveted deck. And they have grown-up furniture with grown-up wall coverings. I found myself wanting to just go back to bed this morning, if only I could have found something to do with my little rugrats.

This move has been so difficult because nothing is, well, moving. No movement on the house. No information provided from Garry's employer. Nothing. For months, nothing. It has gotten so bad that Garry and I talked yesterday about whether this is a sign that we are not supposed to move. Could something right be this hard?

Redskins Training Camp

Yesterday I logged onto the Redskins site and found out that Thursday (today) was the last open practice at Training Camp. This Saturday is Fan Appreciation Day, and though I love the Redskins and am indeed a fan, I am not entering that mess. That would be like going to Disneyland in June. Oh, wait. . . So last night I rushed to the store and got Garry & I matching Training Camp 2009 t-shirts and Emma & Macey jerseys. Emma is Cooley. Macey is Portis. Unfortunately we had to hide our matching cuteness under ponchos because of the rain.

Though I was so excited to be at Training Camp, I think that Garry was even MORE excited than I was -- a difficult feat.

Here we are at the field. The rain came in and out and here was a not-so-damp moment.

And sometimes Molly was even allowed out of her stroller. Here's a happy stroller-free moment!

It was heaven. I saw Campbell, Portis, Moss, Cooley, Randel El, Zorn . . . it was great!

He's Getting Good At This

The other day I had the worst time taking the girls to the pool. It is always hard to get my girls out the door in the first place (see multiple previous blogs) and so when it continues to be hard, well, that's a sign to just turn around and go home!

It all was going well until we reached the parking lot of the pool. Macey Grace (see previous blog for the irony there) fell on the pavement. Hard. Her hands and her knee took the brunt of the fall, and she started CRYING.

Then the pool was closed and so we had to go to the baby pool. Which caused more crying. And Molly was exhausted and could not get comfortable in her hot stroller. Which caused more crying.

At one time I had all three girls crying.

I gave up, told all three girls to get moving (well, Molly had no choice) went back home and picked up the phone to vent my frustration to Garry.

Now, as a general rule men do not know how to respond to said venting. Sometimes they lecture (you should have never tried that during Molly's nap time!). Sometimes they tune out (can we talk about this when I get home?). But G just asked if I needed some time off from the girls when he got home. And I held the phone out, looked at it, and thought, "Wow, he's getting good at this."

Daydreams. . .

I know that a lot of people daydream about a clean house. To look around the house and know that there is not a dish to be cleaned, a sock to be washed. It's a good dream.

Our house has been on the market since June. It's been stressful as I daily try to maintain a clean house in case someone comes to look at it. In the beginning, I was a little casual about it because we usually had a 1/2 day notice. Anyone can clean a house given six house notice. Those were the good old days.

Now, for some reason, we have been getting zero notice. We've had 8 showings and our notice that someone is coming over has been 17 minutes, 14 minutes, and yesterday was the worst: 8 minutes. So I have been a little more diligent about cleaning the house in case our notice is a matter of minutes because we usually only have time to gather up our kids and get out the door!

So I do not daydream about a clean house anymore. I daydream about a horribly messy house that I can veg out in and it's okay.

Ready. . Set. . .Not Yet!. . Ready. . .Set. . .Not Yet!

Last year Garry applied for a job back west. Over 800 people applied for this job, and of the 800, they interviewed 8. Garry was one of the 8 and though he did not get that job, he was the alternate and went through the process of getting cleared to work: polygraph, background check and all.

At the end of April we found out about a job opening that they wanted Garry to take. And since then we have been in a holding pattern. It's taken months to find out a starting date, a clear starting salary, and information regarding closing costs. MONTHS. I still do not know who is moving our stuff, when they are coming to move our stuff, and will they move our cars?, or de we have to drive there? do they have temporary housing available while we look for something? is it actual housing or do they just provide a housing allowance for a period of time?

Just little stuff like that.

I have tried really hard to not let it effect me too much, but I am a planner, and not being able to plan is a little crippling and I've started to get headaches. So yesterday I decided that maybe I was just being given more time to make a few more dreams come true out here in the Washington, D.C. area. So I am developing a list of things I still want to do while here.

(1) Take my girls to the Senate to meet friends on the Hatch staff.
(2) Take the girls on a monument tour and take pictures so they'll at least have pictures to remember the area by.
(3) Go to a open Redskins training practice!
(4) Go to NYC and take my girls to that huge toy store and get on the Today show.
(5) Take the girls to the Washington, D.C. temple.
(6) Invite friends over for a thigh-slappin' fun game of PIT!

Any other suggestions?

Heartsurge

Having three kids under four is very challenging. I try to take them somewhere everyday, and getting out the door with all three is . . . very challenging. Get dressed, do their hair, brush their teeth, go to the bathroom, grab bottles, do I have diapers? enough wipes? pacifiers? shoes on? please stop crying! Oh, wait, that's me. Making sure that the house is clean in case someone comes to see it while we are gone as I do all of the above is . . . very challenging.

So it is with some relief that during the day I experience heartsurges.

A heartsurge is a moment where I feel such love for my girls I feel ready to burst. And they come at the strangest moments.

Like today. Target. I told the girls that they could pick out a new nail polish color. Emma picked out her favorite color: purple. Macey perused her choices and I heard her say "what color is Momma's? what color?"

Then she picked out bright red -- the color that I am sporting right now.

Heartsurge. I just loved that she wanted her nails to look like mine because I know in a few short years she might not want to do anything like me or with me and will care more about what color her BFF likes at the time. But, for now, for this time, she's mine.