April 24, 2008

On a Jet Plane

We have purchased the tickets. At exactly 12:18 p.m., on June 14 I will be waving goodbye to my life in California from the window of a bombadier. Ah, crikey, it's seven-ish weeks away, and I'm already crying.

Oh, but there is much to do before then. Figuring out what to ship and how, for one thing. We're going to have a mungo moving sale, and offer everything at a deep discount (possibly free). Then we're going to stuff the rest in one of those pod thingys that are so popular these days.
Plus, the big kidlets are both graduating (from fifth and eighth) the day before we set off, so we've been trying to figure out how to have a grad party for them in our empty house. Yesterday, I came up with the brilliant idea of taking them to Great America in May in lieu of a grad party-- and then I had to explain what lieu meant, but they're all for it.
But before any of that, I'm taking the kids to Oregon to visit Papa Orman, aka Norm-- my maternal grandpa, although he doesn't like to admit he has a 36-year-old granddaughter. If we're lucky these days, we see him about once a year, and after we move I'm not sure when we'll get to see him again. So this is going to be our first major goodbye, not quite the same as saying goodbye to the dental hygenist, nice as she is.
This photo was taken in 2005, the last time we visited Oregon.

April 21, 2008

Baby's First Hair Cut

Buckaroo had his first haircut tonight while taking a bath. R did the actual trimming while I held the baby, gasped intermittently, and tried to distract both of us with rubber duckies. I think Buckaroo looks a bit like David Hasselhoff with his new do, but R says not. This is his "first haircut" photo (note the moving boxes in the background).

Oh, and that is not even the most exciting news! This week Buckaroo said, "shoes" quite clearly. Obo insists that Buckaroo has said, "Ma Bruvver" several times this week, but this has not been witnessed. Yesterday on our way home from San Francisco, Buckaroo wagged his finger during the "No more monkeys jumping on the bed" song.

Tonight, though-- He took his first ever solo steps! Ta Da.
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April 11, 2008

Weather

I've become somewhat obsessed with the weather. It's downright hot in my little neck of the Bay today-- 73 degrees, but in The Woods it's only 47 today. R's mom says she doesn't expect to see the ground there until June. What I want to know is: June 1st? www.weather.com has become my new favorite web site, and while it does predict that it will be cloudy and showery and cold in The Woods through the weekend, next week it will be Sunny! A high of 61 degrees! It's practically skinny-dipping weather.

April 9, 2008

The Birthday Boy!


Our little guy is one today! Happy Birthday Buckaroo!

April 8, 2008

Dad's Birthday


Tomorrow would have been my dad's 54th birthday, and I miss him. It's strange. Once my dad and I didn't speak to each other for three-ish years, and I didn't miss him as much as I do now. I guess I knew then I'd at least have the chance to speak to him again.
I've decided that Buckaroo and I are going to drive out to the coast and scatter the rest of Dad's ashes stealthy-style. R offered to come with us, but I think I just want to go it alone-- or at least just with the baby, which is as alone as I get these days. I don't have a permit, so it seems fitting that I'm doing something illegal in honor of my father (he never was one to follow the rules), but I really don't want to get in trouble. At least I hope I won't be arrested, and if I have to be fined, I hope the fine isn't too steep.
I have to do this before we move, though, because he doesn't belong in Massachusetts. My dad's job, when he lived in California, was driving from bar to bar collecting quarters from video games and juke boxes and fixing them when they were on the blink. He worked in every two-bit dive bar from Dixon to Loomis. He spent most of his life in the car, and even though he lived his last ten years in South Carolina, most of my memories of him are driving through California-- Tahoe to Mexico. Whenever I take a Golden State road trip, that's where I find him, in the miles.
I think that's one of the reasons that moving across the country is so hard for me. Everything that reminds me of my dad is here. I'm afraid of forgetting.
The funny thing is, my dad would have thought that was ridiculous. He never stopped moving.

April 3, 2008

Update on the Move

Christ on a cracker, it's April.

Sweet Potato and I have given up homeschooling, and she's back on the playground as of this week. So far no one has called her four-eyes or stolen her milk money. Shew. It's difficult to say how it's really going because she's a bit tight-lipped about the whole thing, but she did mention that she's raised her hand to answer questions in class, and that's gotta be a good sign. I'll take anything. We're looking at it as a trial run for making friends before the big move.

R and I have purchased a GPS for the car-- so I won't get lost in the snow-- and a set of web cams for us and my parents, so we can pretend we're not really so far away.

Sweet Potato's dad (yep, that would be my ex-husband) has kindly offered to drive Pinot, our Highlander, as well as her Sweetness across the country. We're not quite sure why he's offered to do this, but we're taking him up on it.


We have not bought our plane tickets yet, which appears to have been a mistake as they've gone up considerably, but we're fairly certain our fly date is June 14.


At the end of the month I'm taking the three kidlets to Oregon to visit my Papa Orman. Buckaroo will not enjoy the ride, I am sure, and will probably make misery for the rest of us, but I'm afraid it must be done.


We have had our teeth cleaned in California for the last time. It turns out the hygenist grew up in Boston, and while she was scratching away at my teeth she said what everyone who grew up in Massachusetts says when they hear that we're moving, "I do miss it, but I sure don't miss the snow."


I couldn't speak because the suction was dangling from my lip, but I started to get teary with my tooth sensitivity and the thought of the snow, but then I thought, "At least R's parents aren't offering us a house in a red state! I'd rather have snow than republicans." It was such a happy thought that I made myself laugh out loud and the suction hose went flying.