Are You Sleeping? Are You Sleeping?

Shhhhh, the baby is sleeping.  Dear UPS/FedEx man, I will kill you if you ring the doorbell during nap time, did you not notice the dog freaking out and barking, telling me that you left something at our door?  Dear Contractor, no, I'm sorry, you can't come at 9, how does 11 or 12 work for you?  Dear Realtor, please note that on Tues, Thur, Sat and Sun, viewings of the house will have to work around nap time.  Yes, even as much as I want to sell the house nap time comes first.

The Peanut has been a pretty good sleeper, not perfect mind you, but pretty good.  We have the occasional night here and there where she wakes up and decides it's play time.  She sometimes fights her naps, playing is more fun, but the naps do usually win.  I hesitate to write or talk about sleep for fear of jinxing it.  I am thankful when I talk to other moms and they ask if the Peanut is sleeping through the night yet.  Sometimes I feel bad when I say yes, she is.    

But then I get invites to Tuesday play group at 9.30am.  9.30am?  That's nap time.  Who schedules play group at 9.30am?  Am I some crazy sleep boss?  Is the Peanut missing out on play group?  But then I remember she sleeps through the night.  And I do have other moms that understand we can have play group around nap time.

It's summer, that means swim lessons!  But Tadpoles meet at 9.30am?  That's nap time.  Who schedules swimming lessons at 9.30am?  I really wanted the Peanut to do a swim class (yes, I realize that she is only 10 months old) more for the songs and play time in the pool then actual "swimming."  Should I concede nap time one day a week for some structured pool time?  But then I remember she sleeps through the night.  We can do pool time any time and I am sure I can think up some games and songs.

The rec center is introducing a new Hard"core" Mommy & Me class!  This mommy could use a core strengthening class, and one that involves the little ones as well?  Bonus!  But wait, it meets at 1.30pm.  That's nap time.  And the afternoon nap may be even more important than the morning nap.  And if it's an hour long class the afternoon nap is blown.  Then I remember she sleeps through the night.  Maybe I will have to suck it up and bust out the P90X.

I have struggled lately with missing out on things to keep our nap routine.  But then the Peanut sleeps 7pm to 7am.  She wakes up happy and giggling.  She talks to the Pug in her own secret language when he rushes in her room first thing in the morning.  So we will keep napping and planning our own adventures.  Around nap time. 

 

The Move | Operation Insanity

So we knew when we started scheming that the big move would not be easy, a while back I jokingly dubbed it "Operation Insanity."  Little did we know how true that moniker would become. 

We started getting things in order, finding a realtor we liked, moving forward with the Peanut's passports and citizenship stuff, confirming my residency, contacting the pet shippers and quarantine facility.  Putting a plan into place. 

The day after the Kiwi's mum arrived from NZ and the day before we were set to list the house -and by list I mean sign in yard, listing on MLS, official stuff - we woke up to a smell and a noise that I hope to not have to hear again.  There was a shower of water in our garage and a odd feeling of deja vu.  Our radiant baseboard heat had sprung another leak.  This time in the baby's bathroom.  There is nothing worse than the smell of glycol and the sound of water pouring through the floor/ceiling.  I woke up the Kiwi and the dry out and clean up began.  So began the insanity.

Clean up crews ripping out way too much drywall and carpet.  Phone calls, more phone calls and more phone calls.

A house filled with dryers and de-humidifers. 

We plowed ahead.

All of the tubing/hosing in our house that connects our heat system would have to be ripped out and replaced.  If you are not familiar with radiant heat, you have tubing running through the floors of the house, hot water runs through the tubing to baseboard radiators.  When it works it is efficient heating.  When you have to replace it?  Not good.

More phone calls, more people in and out of the house.  

The Kiwi's mum was still here so we tried to make the most of it by going out for a few meals and playing tourist.

Plans were made, contractors were interviewed and hired. 

The day came for the heat system to be replaced, the house was torn apart, I was annoyed and frustrated, the baby ended up getting sick.

We hung out in the one area of the house that seemed untouched and played.

The work was done quickly and better than new.  You better believe I want to be sure that potential buyers of our home know about our fabulously upgraded heat system, now including zone shut offs.

More phone calls were made.  More contractors were interviewed  More plans were made.

Once again we moved furniture and rearranged our scheduled.  Once again daycare called and the Peanut came home early on a busy, dusty work day.  Once again we sat and played in the one safe zone in the house.

Drywall was patched.  Texture was sprayed.  Ceilings and walls were complete.

The Kiwi spent all weekend painting and prepping floor.  The carpet guy is on call to help finish the floor.

We have a new target date to list our house. 

Last night after the sprinklers in our yard (run by our HOA, not us) ran for about 5 hours the Kiwi graciously stopped working to remedy the flood starting in our yard.  We have had enough water.

This morning I walked through our quiet house.  Other than the floor in the baby's bathroom things look back to normal.  Most people won't even be able to see the drywall patches. 

Operation Insanity is slowing get back on track from the chaos.

Dirty Hippies | An Explanation

Dirty Hippy is a term of endearment I use for some crunchy friends here in CO.  The longer we live here though I realize that Dirty Hippy is a widely used term and can be applied in many different instances. 

The Dirty Hippy

The Original.  Long hair, lover of patchouli but not of deodorant, has a great composting operation in their backyard, may or may not actually work in recycling, promotes 0 waste events, drives an old VW bus when and if they drive anywhere, only uses compostable paper plates and red cups at parties, may or may not live without water or electricity, still listens to the Dead and may be known to tell stories of back in the day when Jerry was still alive.

Via

The Dirty Hipster

This is the good Dirty Hippy that is environmentally conscious, worried about mother earth, has a huge backyard compost operation going, but won't be found without his iPhone, iPad, thick Buddy Holly hipster frames, PBR and singlespeed or cruiser.  If they drive, their vehicle has been converted to bio diesel.  The Dirty Hipster heard of it first, saw them first, did it first and was first in line.  AKA as Hipster hiding in Hippy clothing. 

Via Pinterest

The Dirty Hipocrite

The Dirty Hipocrite is often torn between living the crunchy lifestyle and being the next cast member on Real Housewives of the Rocky Mountains.  And, unfortunately, the Dirty Hipocrite is usually a woman.  By day they are shouting about the evils of vaccines, plastic, fluoride in the water, fast food, cooked food, anything blue or green.  But by late afternoon, after shopping for $200 designer jeans and that perfect fedora for summer - locally of course - their V12 Toyota Sequoia is left idling in the day care parking lot, in 60 degree weather, while they run in to get to get their tot who is decked out in head to toe Patagucci.*  May or may not be married to a Dirty Hipster. 

Via

*I have nothing against Patagucci, and, yes, in the interest of full disclosure, the Peanut has a Patagucci bunting which was a gift.  But $70 for a tots puffer?  Surely you jest...

9 Months Old

The Peanut is 9 months old.  Where has time gone? 

She is never still.  Getting her dressed or trying to change her has become a wrestling match.  And she is quick!  If you walk away from her and turn around she will be underfoot.  She loves to bug the Pug, whether by climbing on him or standing and yelling at him, even taking away his beloved Monkey or Octopus. 

But she is learning to give his toys back when we ask.  She loves to eat, even the prunes we give her to keep things moving.  Avocado and sweet potato are her ultimate favorites.  She has two teeth and uses them to try and chew her puffs.  You can see her thinking and processing things, she is no longer a little, helpless infant.  She knows she shouldn't climb on the fireplace or TV cabinet, but when she does she looks back with a certain look in her eye daring us to stop her or to see if she is getting away with it.  She is curious and happy. 

She loves to dance and clap her hands.  Every week at her blood draw she sits up and barely makes a peep when we (or the nice ladies in the lab) prick her foot.  Some days her hair is red.  Some days her hair is blond. 

 Everyday she is awesome.

Helmet Required?

There was a great story on the interwebs on Friday about helmets for crawling babies and toddlers which made me laugh.  The Peanut is becoming a quick little thing, she has almost completely given up on the military style belly crawl and is up on hands and knees.  You can tell when she really gets going and is crawling with purpose because she bobs her head up and down.  It's hilarious.  The Kiwi and I joke about getting the Peanut a helmet because she tends to lead with her head.  She crawls straight into the couch, into the coffee table, into the table leg.  Or she pulls herself up on something, like the coffee table, and then falls over rather than getting down gracefully.  Usually it's harmless and she doesn't even notice, especially if she looks around and finds that no one saw her do it.  Occasionally she gets a pretty good bump.  Especially if we are trying to Skype with Nana or Grandad in NZ!   

Pic of random child in helmet courtesy of You Tube

That poor kid with the helmet in the pic above,  I just don't think I could do that to the Peanut!

Hope everyone's weekend is going well and you find yourself crawling (or walking!) with purpose!

The Move | We Aren't Trees

It's been a long week, coming off an eye opening weekend.  The Peanut has been sick all week and has been home from daycare.  While the extra play time has been awesome, I now have a job with deadlines that I couldn't quite ignore.  The Kiwi was swamped as well and while we tag teamed it and made it work, we are both tired and ready for the weekend.  And hopefully a brighter one than last week.

It started off pretty well, we spent Friday night Skyping and having a few drinks with the Kiwi's family.  As you do when you live a million miles away and can't be there in person.  It was good to be able to chat with them, earlier in the day I had stumbled across a blog by a woman in Wellington and was feeling incredibly homesick.  Then I made the Kiwi homesick.  By the end of our video chat we had the Kiwi's family searching New Zealand for xantham gum and non-dairy coconut milk yogurt.  Why?  Because we still want to move back, to move home.  I think we always have.  But then there is the Peanut and PKU.  Here we know we can find So Delicious and Daiya cheese and all the weird ingredients needed to be able to make the Peanut's lo protein cookies and cupcakes.  We can order frozen pizzas and bagels and pasta.  It's not that we can't find these things in NZ, but we know we can find them here.  It's easy here.  It's familiar.  We know we can pop into Whole Foods and leave with food for Peanut.  But what if we could pop into Commonsense Organics for Cheezly (which actually is soy based and probably too high in protein for the Peanut, but it's a start)?  Or find a local Asian market that carries wheat starch?  And the US company that makes the special lo pro frozen pizzas and bagels and pasta?  Guess what, they ship their frozen goods to NZ, the Kiwi called and confirmed it. 

Could we really do this?  Have we had too much to drink?  Could we move back?  Yes.  Let's do it. 

           
On Saturday we had a realtor through our house and the news was not as expected. We know the market is bad, we know what prices are (no surprise, the Kiwi has a spreadsheet going of home sales in our 'hood), but to ignore recent comps on our street and tell us our house won't sell unless we price it well below everything else that has sold?  Including the dump next door?  Surely you jest.  We knew we were going to lose money, but to lose almost everything we had put into the house?  Our bubble was burst.  We headed to Mountain Lyon to comfort ourselves with greasy food.  The Kiwi looked deflated, he said something about feeling flat.  My heart really ached for him because I could see it in his face, in his eyes.  He was sadder than I have seen in a long time.  Flat. 

We talked a lot over the weekend and this week about what to do.  We want to move back, we want to be closer to family, we want the Peanut to grow up with her cousins and grandparents.   On Monday I called my Dad and went through it all again.  What would he think about us moving to NZ now that the Peanut was part of our lives?  He said the same thing we knew, get another realtor through the house, get a second or third opinion.  If they can ship lamb and lobster all over the world surely they can ship frozen pizzas.  When can I come visit?    

So we have two options, we stay or go.  Seems much simpler typed out like that.  Our choice is to go, so we go.  Wheels are in motion.  The hunt is on for a new realtor.  We may also have a frank chat with the woman that came through last Saturday but I am not so sure she is the right realtor to use.  Birth certificates have been ordered, passport appointments have been made, we have found a local kiwi to sign off as a witness on all the Peanut's forms, we have a call into the vet about the Pug and the testing we did last year, we have contacted the shipping companies about our stuff, we will be in lockdown and save mode starting asap and next week when we go to the Peanut's PKU clinic we will talk to her doc's about contacting the PKU docs in NZ. 

Are we crazy?  Probably.  Could this all backfire on us?  Certainly.  Are we doing the right thing?  Who knows.  But the one thing I do know - we aren't trees, so let's get moving.

Back to Work!

Today I start a new job, working from home, part time.  Right now the plan is to work three full days a week and go from there.  The Peanut will go to daycare those three days because otherwise I would never get any work done!  I am getting back into my career and will be doing corporate immigration work for a law firm in San Francisco.  A colleague (and good friend) of mine manages the global group at the firm and needed some help.  He offered to pay me better than what my old job was paying, let me work from home and part time, so I couldn't pass up the opportunity.  I won't lie that I have some reservations, but it gives me more time with the Peanut and, eventually, I can be home when she gets home from school.  I realize that is really looking ahead, but, hey, why not.

I go back and forth on working from home.  On one hand I have already cleaned the Peanut's room, thrown in a load of laundry and have taken dinner out of the freezer - it is nice to be able to get those things done.  Working from home I control the climate, the noise, I can work in yoga pants and a t shirt, and if I don't have time to shower, no big deal.  I don't have office pop ins, I don't have a million meetings I have to sit through and I can get a ton of work done.   

On the other hand, sometimes working from home can be lonely.  Especially if everyone else is working from the office.  Another big drawback is that you are always "at work."  I have worked from home before and insist on setting up a work station/office area.  This gives me a separate work space I can get up and walk away from at the end of the day.  I am also hoping that Spring is going to come early here in the mountains (don't laugh, it could happen) and on my days off the Peanut and I can get outside more so we are not stuck in the house on our days off.       

My new office...

With the blinds open the office gets good sunlight all day as if faces south (its really not as dark as that pic seems) and I can also watch what is happening in the 'hood.  If you have read my blog from it's humble beginnings you know that I fall easily into the role of neighborhood watch person and enjoy trying to catch our trash guys throwing the recycling in with the trash (which they do, bastards!). 

On that note I actually need to get our trash tote out to the curb.  So here's to wishing everyone a great Monday and a good week!