House for Sale: DIY Do or Die

The past three days we've been internetless or I'd have filled you in on the catastrophe that was our house. As you know we've had the house for sale for a week now. The second day it was for sale Helmut knocked off a couple of tiles in the shower exposing some ominously moldy drywall. That was the cause of freak out #1. When I say freak out, I'm really exaggerating, because while the mold was alarming, it was still easily fixed.

We both spent the entire day researching bathroom mold fixes DIY and came up with a plan. First remove all the tiles covering the moldy area. Second replace the wet drywall with backer board, and lastly, replace all the tiles and re grout. We began to execute our plan Thursday night after the kids went to bed. It took Helmut hours to clean off all the tiles so we could reuse them. Then he cut out the old drywall exposing......da da daaaaaaaaaaa (musical interlude), TERMITES. Crap.

I spent Friday lining up appointments with Termite inspectors to make sure that was the only affected area and to get it treated. By Monday we had a full termite inspection done which revealed only damage to the bathroom. Helmut was able to fix and patch the hole and now we are finally back in business. I just hope that seeing a gaping hole in the bathroom shower didn't turn away any buyers. Come on people you know you loved the house with the creepy bug infested bathroom. Nothing screams buy me like rotting drywall and the stench of mold.

Life with Chicks: The Raddist Cage on the Planet

After the chicken eating contest that the cats held a couple weeks ago, Helmut took it upon himself to build the remaining chickens a cage to keep them safe. This also means they no longer take up a stinky space in our garage. I'm pleased....as are the chickens.

Conversations with a Three Year Old: Pedestrians

This exchange took place in the car on the way home from the store one night. It's important to note that Helmut and Hayden couldn't see each other at the time.

(From the back seat)Hayden: wiping something from his eye,
"What's that?"
(From the driver's seat) Helmut: noticing a pedestrian,
"That's just a man walking down the street."

Hayden: pausing to think,
"there's a man walking down the street in my eye??"

Ranch Day

While our chicken was becoming cat chow we were off enjoying a day at the Hamilton Ranch. Thanks Carol, Henry and family for the fun times!

Bonding Time

In truth, he's holding that stick in the hopes that he will be able to mesmerize Hayden into staying still for 2 seconds while I snap a picture.

Conversations with a Three Year Old: Safety Gear

The past few weeks Hayden has discovered that Mommy and Daddy have names. He tentatively calls me "Kari" from time to time, and asks me where "Helmut" is. I have to admit that while I laugh it off, I also find it very disturbing. Something about having my 3 year old son calling me "Kari" feels really weird.

After dinner we decided to go for a walk and let Hayden ride his bike to burn off some of his "bad" energy (trust me, it was REALLY BAD).

Helmut: "Hayden, please take your bike out of the garage."

Hayden: picking up is bike helmet, "Daddy, you have to help me put on this helmut first."

Helmet, helmut....same diff.

Saving Face

Yesterday was our 5 year wedding anniversary and to celebrate we got a babysitter for tonight, booked a fancy restaurant and planned a nice dress-up date.

I waited until 1.5 hours before the babysitter was due to arrive to pick out my outfit which took 30 seconds, then I spent the next 89 minutes second guessing it. I worked myself into such a state that when Mariah was clinging to my legs in despair and crying her eyes out because I was too busy flinging clothes on and off to pick her up, that I coldly told her to stop crying. For heaven's sakes child, don't you know this is an emergency? In reality I was really just irritated that Helmut didn't hear her cries and come running to fetch her without my having to ask, since HELLO we all know that men are mind readers. Not. Actually that's not fair, Helmut does an admirable job at reading my mind, just not on this occasion. It also may not have helped that he was outside at the time and therefore unable to hear her crying. I expect him to read my mind, but I guess my expectations of his telepathic powers shouldn't exceed the boundaries of our home.

After angrily flinging off a dress that I couldn't zip for myself, I decided to quit trying to impress and put on something I knew would be ugly. If I'm not trying to impress, it will be impossible to disappoint right? It was at this time that I had a personal revelation. I may be the ONLY WOMAN ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET who does NOT like to get dressed up.....well, not the only woman, my Mom would be the only other woman I know who equally loathes it. I like to look nice, I really don't want to spent all my time in PJ's and play clothes, but the amount of stress that comes out of a simple fancy dinner date is really not worth the insanity it creates.

I'm not ready to trade all my Jimmy Choo's (who am I kidding I've never owned a Jimmy Choo *sob*) in for socks and Birkenstock yet, but fancy dress up dates might be on hold until I have a sister or a very good friend who is willing to give me honest opinions on what I should and should not wear on them.

After a very dramatic 1.5 hours we were ready to leave only to find out that the babysitter had a family emergency and couldn't come. So, after all the stress and drama we ended up going out in jeans and t-shirts with the kids to eat some tacos.

Daddy's Girl

When Hayden was a baby no one could soothe him like I could. Helmut
tried to get up with him a few times at night to give me a break but
the subsequent screaming had me rolling out of bed muttering to myself
about how inadequate fathers were and why couldn't I just get a break
already. What can I say, I'm pretty possessive of my sleep. I'm a
supreme grouch if I don't get what I have deemed as "enough."

When Mariah came along in all her willful and colicky glory I almost lost
my mind and in an effort to help me keep it Helmut started taking her
at night and soothing her back to sleep. She had a horrible habit of
waking up 20 times after she'd been put down for the night before she
would finally settle down and sleep. Often we didn't get her to settle
down until midnight. Night after night of this combined with a sleepless toddler had me shaking my fists in the air and wondering if I would ever get my precious sleep again (really, I'm ridiculous about it).

Helmut in his extremely self sacrificing way took over roughly half of the soothing back to sleep attempts, which I consider to be an admirable amount for a father, especially as he seemed to have much success. Now when he's home for the weekend and we have the option I shove Mariah into his arms at nap time and he's able to whisk her away to dreamland without a peep, which is more than I can say for myself.

I don't like to admit it to myself often, but at times I think she prefers him to me.