My Heart Hurts

Pre-kid, whenever a news story about child abuse or a child being murdered happened, it definitely made me pause. I felt sadness and wonder at how it could happen and, well, stopped my day for a second, before moving on. Now, though. Now, it's very different. Especially if the kid is Sammy's age. And then, it not only stops my day for a second, but it stops my life with an insatiable need to read about it, to devour the news, if only to try to make sense of it all. It's very similar to the difference of watching She's Having A Baby pre and post Sammy, for me. Context is everything. And with context, the tears shed multiply.

I've been following this story all week. I read, in bits and pieces, last night about how this poor little baby was tortured and left to die. I kept on reading and reading and sent it to Isaac, who couldn't read it, it was so upsetting, and I just kept picturing Sammy, who, at nearly four, is still such a baby in a lot of ways. One who is so full of love and trust. And I realized, now, how different a story like this is, for me. I simply cannot wrap my head around it. I simply cannot get over the pain that poor dad must be in - when he sent him here unwillingly, but had to, by law. I cannot understand how a mother could not have intervened, stopped it, put herself in between and protected that baby. I cannot understand how she didn't go to him, given her life to get him help. I JUST CANNOT -CANNOT - UNDERSTAND. And my heart hurts for this poor little boy. For his dad. For his mom who has clearly lost her way. And for that man, who had such a low opinion of himself and his worth that he took it out on such a tiny soul. My heart. It hurts.

I see Sammy, his innocence and trust and I just want to hold him. All day. Protect him. Keep him safe. I think it's instinctual, when a story of this nature comes out, but Sammy is just having to endure the extra hugs and kisses and the teary mom, making sure he understands how very much I love him.


(kate bush, this woman's work)

Next, I'll Be Wearing Pearls When Isaac Gets Home

Now that the house is sold, we are full steam ahead on new house projects. First up, we're pricing fences. Who knew they were so expensive? However, we're actually going to get what we want instead of settling. So, there's that. (yay?)

I've started sketching out my ideas for the yard (and by "sketching" I mean "holy crap WHAT IS that picture of" kind of drawings...sketching is not exactly in my skill set!). I'm pretty excited for my vision to all come together, even if it will take several years to get there. Up for this summer: get the fence up, the weeds and rocks out of the yard and the ground cover rolled out so they don't come back and the apple and cherry trees planted. If the money is there, I'd also like to have some cement poured to widen the porch and extend the walkway into the park strip and possibly a pad poured for the garbage and recycling cans. But the fence has to come first, or we can't move on to phase two next year: the garden boxes. Which I'm already pretty giddy about.

I've known for a long time what kind of fence I'd love and I'm excited I talked Isaac into it (with a minor concession on my part!). It's going to be lovely and envelope our home properly. You'll be able to turn onto our street and see it, all encompassing and just...perfect. We're getting something like this:

With a gate and archway at the beginning of our walkway, like this:

Yes, it looks like I'm getting an ACTUAL white picket fence to go around my entire house. Yes, I can see the irony of this clearly, thank you.

Anti-picket fence song:

(somewhere around midnight, the airborne toxic event)

Favorite Songs With The Word Rain In The Title. And....Go!

1. The Rain - The Swell Season


2. Red Rain - The White Stripes


3. Why Does It Always Rain On Me? - Travis


4. I'm Only Happy When It Rains - Garbage


5. Rain - Mika


Honorable Mentions:
Rain - Red Flag

Crying In The Rain - a-ha

Early Morning Rain - Paul Weller

Officially Moved

We turned over our keys to a title company yesterday in exchange for a check. Well, that's not really true. We signed the papers, turned over the keys to the new owner and will pick up our check this afternoon. That check will be turned over to our mortgage company, in a couple of weeks, with next month's payment. All of this adds up to being better off financially than we were in the other house, oddly, and closes a chapter in our life. But...

We kept looking at each other all weekend, pinching ourselves that things went so smoothly, that the house was selling, that we were going to be done, that we were closing two weeks early. Finally. No more rearranging our schedules to show the house. No more worry or stress. No more patching and painting and cleaning up to make it look better. No need to start mowing and keep up on the lawn. But...

We signed the papers, took a breath, tried to come up with a proper celebratory dinner to go to after we met the new owner to show her how to run the sprinklers (something we wish could have been done for us!). We decided to just go home and have eggs and bacon and toast. We met the owner. Told her about the garlic and parsley. Showed her how to run the sprinklers. Handed over the keys. Congratulated her and left her to lock up. But...

...I stood on the porch of my once home and was sad. I was leaving my oh, so carefully picked wall colors. My chandelier. My garlic. My nook in the dining room. Happy times and the first house Isaac and I bought. I was sad. Before, though I didn't, really, I could run over if I needed to. Now, it's passed on for someone else to love and nurture. Back to a single occupant. It will go back to not having a baby boy run up and down the stairs or dig in the back yard or go check for weeds with daddy. It won't have a not quite two year old learning how to talk. It won't be the place where we curl up on the couch or build furniture or make cookies and dinners anymore. And I've known that for months - six months worth of new memories in the new house, but...That wave of nostalgia, handing over the keys and walking away for the final time. This was our house, our home. The place I felt safe from the world; the home we came 'home' to. I know our new house is and will continue to be even better, and focusing solely on plans for our new house will help us, but...

She doesn't seem like an army green front door kinda girl. Or a clothesline in the back kinda girl. Or a gothic chandelier kinda girl. Or a "thank heavens there's 28 bulbs of garlic and a crop of parsley already in the back" kinda girl. But...

I hope I'm wrong.


(the old apartment, bnl)

Ok. Here's The Situation...

When we sell the house (it'll be final this afternoon! FREE AND CLEAR, PEOPLE!) the deal was that I could finally get a Kate Spade bag that I've been coveting since, oh...1924. But. I may no longer want one. I'm not head over heels at the notion anymore. I don't know if I've outgrown the desire or that style isn't really "me" any longer or what. But I'm not feeling it. So. I started thinking what I want instead. Here's a short list of the completely frivolous I don't need, but may buy in celebration. Help me decide?

1. Don't get anything right now.

2. These boots. (in cranberry)

3. These boots. (in spice or dark brown)

4. A huge Nine West order of various shoes I've been eyeing for months. (like these and these and these)

5. This bag.

6. Some John Fluevog's I've been coveting forever? (like this...or these...Sammy's pick are these!)

7. Or, get a Kate Spade anyway.

(Or how about these....HA! Their name is Luly.)

*There's a good chance it's only my family who uses the words in my title and then launch DIRECTLY into this without batting an eye...*

(parents just don't understand, will smith)