how not to pack

I did a lot today. We visited a friend for lunch and the park. I explained a summer school assignment to my french speaking friends. (Considering I learned French in order to teach people about God, I was truly unprepared to explain ideas like: "setting" and "characters" "climax" and "plot.") I fed my family. I did the dishes. I did a little laundry. I straightened the house for the people coming to view the apartment (with the help of my excellent, hardworking husband).

And I figured I should pack at least one box. It was almost full, then I talked to my husband about what else we should put in it, and then decided that the contents of the box fit better in a plastic tote we had. Thus I unpacked the box. How many new boxes did I pack today? None.

Maybe tomorrow.

T minus 13 days

This is an accurate representation of Babs, and her older sister, for the next two weeks. Zoned out in front of the television. Except when I'm dragging them outside to "help our friends." Because I need to pack. I leave in two weeks. That's really soon.

It's no wonder I don't post any more. I'm too stressed to think of clever things to say about my family, and cute stories. They're still happening. And wouldn't it be great if I wrote them down so I'd remember them?

Okay, so on that note, here's a picture of Kiddo.

This is her waiting to get on the plane back to our house in February. She was dragging her backpack to resemble all the people who were dragging their suitcases behind them.

We told her recently that soon, we were going to visit Grandma, and then Grammy and Grandpa. (We left out that we were never coming back. It's seems really abstract for a three year old. We'll tell her soon.) We also tell her quite often that we're packing. So it is no surprise that she asks at least once a day, "Are we going to Grandma's now?"

To express her excitement, she carries her "pretend suitcase" with her every where she goes. Which really means that she holds her fist behind her back, as if rolling along a suitcase. She stays in character though, and won't do things with the hand that is carrying the suitcase.

Almost, I thought I should buy her her own suitcase. Then I realized that would just be one more thing I would need to keep track of as I fly these girls around in the next few weeks, so her real suitcase will have to wait a while more.

tithing

Today we spent a lot of time drawing, because, in Kiddo's words, she's a good artist (true). At one point she told me she was drawing a picture of her tithing. She correctly identified that she would give Heavenly Father one dollar, and she got to keep nine.

Last visit from Grandma, she gave Kiddo $10. Eventually we got around to teaching her about tithing, and she paid her $1 to the church. She was explaining this to me as she drew her picture. She reminded me that she gave her tithing to our branch president.

"And he gave it to Heavenly Father," continued Kiddo. At first I agreed with her. The principle was correct. But then I felt I should be more precise, and tell her he gave it to the church.

"It's used to build temples, and churches," I taught her.

"I'm going to help build a temple," she said. I was starting to tell her how yes, her money was going towards temple building when she continued, "I'll bring my [toy] tool set."

that's the way...

Kiddo wanted croutons (called "tons" when she was little, so cute) and dressing for lunch, one of her favorite foods. We always insist that some greenery (or other color) of food is eaten with it, lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, etc. Today, I was telling her yes she could have croutons and dressing, but she'd also need to eat some cucumber. I started to explain that she would need to do this because... when she filled in the blank for me, "Because that's the way life is."

Hmm. I hadn't realized I'd told her that so often.

But it's true. Sometimes things just are, and you have to accept it.

For example, I'm really leaving in less than three weeks. And I'm really not very packed yet. And there is only one more week of normalcy in our house, because then my husband is gone, then I leave. My heart has that tight anxiety feeling.

We're jumping into the dark. Employment for my husband ends (amicably) in three weeks. There is no new job on the horizon. We are packing all of our things into storage (again!) and moving in with my parents. I will seriously miss my friends, and many things about where we live. Yet, it's a great blessing we won't have to drain our savings to live in this very expensive part of the country. Plus, my parents are great, and have a big house, pool, and functioning ward, so it's not like it's a bad thing to have an extended visit there, but this isn't how we wanted this all to work out.

And maybe this isn't how it will all work out. Maybe the job is coming in the next three weeks. Maybe it's coming in the next three months. As a good woman in the church told me last Sunday, "The Lord knows where the job is." I laughed, and said "I believe that. I just wish He'd let us know." Today is good for me...

But apparently today is not good for me, because we still don't know. When we know, that's when it will be good for us. That's what we believe. That's what the Spirit has told us. And we can continue to believe that we are being blessed, because we are.

For example: look at my kids' cute friends from church (missing two, sadly they were not feeling well that day)
And my amazing friends from church (sadly missing one, her kids kept her up all the night before)

coming to America

For the first time since Kiddo was born (and possibly earlier) our family went to see fireworks last night. Our little town, although within sight of NYC (on a clear day), still puts on it's own show. The sight is five blocks from our house, so just before 9 we headed out to the park. (We unfortunately left the camera at home.)

The fireworks were wonderful. We were very close, so they were extra loud and bold. The wind was gently blowing in our direction, so we were covered with ash by the end. Babs wasn't a fan, so she insisted on being held, rocked, and having her ears plugged (plus a good deal of hair holding) throughout the show. Kiddo started with her ears plugged and eyes closed, but by the end was cheering on every single last firework. She loved them.

I sat there, and thought about how much I love fireworks, how grateful I am that I was born in America (and not just any America, middle class America), and how that was exactly how I wanted to celebrate my country's birthday: sitting there in my little town with people who mostly had not been born here, but had chosen here, and love it all the more because of it. I love this place.

sharing the love

Kiddo likes to watch TV from our hallway; it's safer there. It's where she retreats when there are scary parts (like, say, Wonder Pets). Today, during some VeggieTales, she felt the need to run off. Moments after she left the couch I heard a triumphant cry from Babs.

She was beelining it for the open spot because Kiddo had left her jammies and onsies. And Babs has figured out that those are worth having. So she snatched them, then cuddled up with them on the floor.

A few minutes after returning to the TV room, Kiddo noticed Babs using her comfort items. She took them back. I felt bad for Babs, but couldn't declare those particular items as ones to share.

Do I give Babs her own set of jammies? Do I assume that she just likes them because of Kiddo? Do I shake my head in wonder that not only is there a totally non-traditional lovey, but that my kids seem poised to share a single one? Yes, the last one.

Babs and the phone

This is what Babs knows about an iPhone: you have to squeeze your head and shoulder together while using it. She seems to have missed that when I strike this pose, I typically am not holding the phone, but it have it squeezed there too.