Before you get too upset, please visit here.
This is my last post on Kicking and Screaming.
That's right people. I'm closing Kicking and Screaming Down.
This will be one of my last posts here.
Cec
This is Jaxon's new bike. Or, I should say, it's not new. His grandpa Ted (my Dad) has been giving Jaxon things ahead of his physical ability since he was born. He got this bike for him when he was three months old. We've had it in storage but during the move Jaxon found it. And loves it!
He's so cute riding around on this thing, and he's so good at it. Considering at the EDC they have bikes like this and for the last few months Jaxon has just sat on them unable to move, this is pretty impressive. The video is of the first night he'd ever been on it.
Apparently he's saying "kitty cat" but I just can't hear it!
We're in our new home sweet home now. I have so much to say that I don't quite know where to start.
Firstly I'd like to say thank you to MaryBeth for keeping everyone company over here at Kicking and Screaming! You didn't have to, since we're not so important here that we have hundreds of reader's, but it was fun to see what you had to say in reply to my questions.
Seriously, Da Burgh does sound very romantic and wonderful but I think Tim and I will stick to Australian soil. We just moved 10 kilometer's from our old place and that was bad enough. I think we'll stick to one child for the moment too :)
I'd also like to thank Pizza Hut, KFC, MacDonald's, Subway and our local Chinese Restaurant for making this move possible.
I must not forget to send out a big thank you to Milanta ant-acid tablets.
And the makers of Kleenex Toilet Paper. Not that I need toilet paper at the moment since I'm so blocked up from all the junk food we've consumed in the last week. But I AM trying, and they tell me thats what counts.
Then of course I must get a little serious and thank all of our crazy ass friends who helped us this past week. Especially Nicole. I thank you from the bottom of my heart and would 100% help you to move (just not yet ok?) Thank you for everything. Thank you for throwing our stuff in boxes and then throwing it out at the new place. Thank you for the hugs when I cried in stress. Thank you for knowing that we needed the help. Thank you for forcing me to accept it.
So stayed tuned. I've not yet told the full story of all that has happened. I'm not sure I am ready to!
Hello it's Irishembi again from Because I Said So. I've talked to Boo briefly via text and she is anxiously awaiting Internet access. But until then you're stuck with me. Luckily Boo had the foresight to write and schedule some blog entries ahead of time. Otherwise you'd be sitting here listening to the crickets chirp waiting for me to post.
Boo says: Give me 20 sound reasons why I should move to Pittsburgh??
I'm going to assume you can all figure out from that question that I am from Pittsburgh.
Then I could go on to give you the standard Pittsburgh line. "Why WOULDN'T anyone want to move to Pittsburgh??!!!" But that's not what Boo's looking for here since she and Tim are seriously considering making some big changes in their lives.
I could send you to one of those "Rah-Rah Pittsburgh" sites, but I think Boo is more interested in hearing my personal opinion.
While Tim and I were trying to pick out a name to give to Jaxon before he was born the first name we settled on was Gibson.
Our reason was pretty stupid. Nothing sentimental about it. It wasn't any one's name, we didn't know anyone by that name. We chose that name because we love the show NCIS. The lead character, or one of, is named Leroy Jethro Gibbs. They call him Gibbs.
For reasons that I wont go in to here, we changed our minds about the name. We had to find another one and that ended up, obviously, being Jaxon.
I hadn't thought anything of it until tonight, while I watched my first episode of NCIS since I was pregnant. In this episode you get to meet Gibbs' Dad for the first time. And guess what his name is?? Yup. Jackson Gibbs.
Wierd huh??
This move has put a lot of “crap” in to perspective for me. As I sit here and contemplate the packing, I can see a whole heap of shit that I just don’t use, want, need, or have space for.
Among those item’s are soft and cuddly stuffed animal toys that belong to Jaxon. I am seriously going to need a spare room JUST to store those, now that I can see that they’re strewn all through the house.
I’m not sure what it is but every single person we know has bought Jaxon a soft toy. A teddy here, a lion there, a bear there. Perhaps everyone give’s those out in the hope that "their teddy” will become THE Teddy. The master card of Teddy’s, wouldn’t leave home with out it.
Long before Jaxon was born, while I was pregnant, my friend Tasha gave us a cute little duck that sings “singing in the rain” (or at least, it did) I’ve known Tasha for 27 years. We met in kindergarten. She is my best friend, regardless of how often I see or talk to her. So the fact that Jaxon has chosen her duck to be his best friend is NO surprise to me.
The duckie goes EVERYWHERE with Jaxon. But I can tell you that if you filled a ball pit with teddy’s and toys and hid the duck deep within it’s furry depths, Jaxon would throw them, walk on them and ignore them until he found his beloved friend. And then….he would be content and he would walk off in to the sunset, duckie in hand, never to look at or consider those other teddy’s ever again (much like he does to them right now)
I’m here to say, if you don’t mind, that Jaxon and I are well and truly teddied out.
So, Jaxon just found...it.
You know. His bits.
He was in the bath and out of no where, for the first time ever, he just reaches down and touches it.
He was all like "whoa...what's this? Mum, check this out! Quick...look, what do you think it is?" and I was all like "whoa, what the hell do I say?"
It's all simple when he's touching or poking at another part of his body. When he found his belly button I simply said "that's your belly button" and when he found his nose, I told him exactly what that there thing on his face was.
But I must admit that I was a little bit lost for words when it came to this particular subject and my 21 month old son.
Do I say penis? Doodle? Dick? Big fella?
What is considered PC these days???
What do YOU say?? Consider this a survey of sorts.
This is the first time Tim and I have moved in almost 3 years. It is on the top of our list for things we avoid like the plague. I would rather a root canal without anesthetic.
It’s not really just the moving bit either. I grew up in a family home. I was there when I was young and my Dad only sold it to move 3 years ago. I know that house like the back of my hand and it makes me sad to think of other people living in it. It was the safest place in the world because my Mum and Dad were there. I want that for Jaxon. I don’t want to move him around lot’s.
Aside from that, I hate packing. I hate taking things to the car and I hate driving to the new place and I hate taking it out of the car and then finally, finding new homes for places.
So it shocked me yesterday when we first told three of our close friends that we were moving because each of them jumped at the chance to help us move. They didn’t even bat an eye about it. Right off the mark they all said “Oh cool, do you want help to move"?”
Does this not strike you as odd? Or is it just me. Perhaps it’s just me. I’m pretty sure it’s just me.
I know I’ve helped three friends move in the past. But we were all in our early 20’s. That means that all any of us had to move was a bed and a washing basket of clothes. A few old pots and pans taken from Mum’s kitchen and TV. Easy as pie. Even moving in with Tim I only had a bed and a few other choice items. Now, we have three bedrooms and a house full of crap to move and a life of junk to pack.
I would never in a million years offer to help someone move. Don’t get me wrong. If my friends needed me to clean for them, or take them on a four hour drive to get somewhere, or shop for them…I would have no hesitations in doing that. And if they ASKED me to help them move I would. But I would not offer willingly.
I was hesitant to accept their offer’s because then perhaps one day they might need MY help to move and I might have to say yes, because it would be returning a favor. And why would anyone want to move anyone? I don’t like doing it for myself much less doing it for someone else.
It is just me isn’t it??
Hello everyone! This is Irishembi from over at "Because I Said So." Boo is off having fun moving to a new house (if you define "fun" as packing up and moving yourself, a husband, a toddler, a dog and two cats and all the accoutrements that go with those things) and has asked me to be a "guest blogger."
If you read my blog regularly you'll know I've been suffering from constipation of the brain recently so luckily Boo has handily provided me with a list of questions to answer; graciously providing me with something to write about. I'm not sure if she intended me to answer all of the questions in one post, but since I tend to be long-winded (as evidenced by the fact that I've already written two paragraphs without even stating the topic question yet), I decided to take them one at a time.
Boo says: "I was going to ask you what number of children you thought was a good deal. One two or three?"
Well the "good mom" answer would be "three" seeing as I currently happen to have three. But my answer to that question is different at any given time of the day (at 6:00 a.m. it's ZERO. Zero children is a good deal.) or any different time of my life. As a little girl I remember telling my best friend I only ever wanted two or four children as I didn't ever want to make someone the "middle child." I guess Jamie will just have to deal.
There was truly never a time that I thought I didn't want children at all. There were times that I thought I wouldn't have children either because, well, that whole male + female thing is kinda important, and there were definitely very, uh, dry periods in my life. And then with both of my marriages there were stages when I thought having children was just not a wise idea. Obviously that stage was permanent with the first marriage.
I jokingly tell people that when I had my first baby I knew I only wanted one child, and then after having my second I knew I wanted more. This is only half tongue in cheek. Sabrina was a difficult baby. I had to be cajoled and convinced to take a pregnancy test the second time, disbelieving all the while it could be positive. My first response on seeing that second line? "Oh crap." The only reason it was worded so mildly was because Sabrina was in the room.
After having Jamie I had the "perfect family." One boy, one girl. And yet. I still had this longing. It was almost as though there was another soul out there telling me, "wait for me, I'm not ready yet."
And sure enough when I got pregnant shortly after Jamie's first birthday, I had a much more positive response to the news. But that little soul still wasn't ready for me, and she (I'll never know for sure, but have always been convinced it was a girl) slipped away at 6 weeks.
I've now had my third child, a gorgeous little girl again, bringing my tally of children to three. I don't have that feeling of someone waiting anymore, but there is still a certain wistfulness of maybe another.....
And then someone keeps me up all night and I remember how much I like to sleep and that I'd really like to get back to it someday.
