A temporary home

We moved!
Into an apartment!

Its a teeny tiny bit crazy. I never in a million years thought that I would live in an apartment again.  But here we are! Its all part of this lovely little journey we are on.

 

master bathroom

 master closet (hooray!)

master bedroom (we have a door! Double hooray!)

 The boys' room (yes, they are sharing, but so far so good!)

 boys bathroom

hallway. Fun for running in if you are 2 or under.

kitchen (really its at least twice the size of our old kitchen)

 

 Living Room (you can see the kitchen to the left)

 Dining and play space

 

View from the play corner

kitchen from the other side

another view of the living room

from the kitchen to the dining room

Really though, the apartment living thing isn't as bad as I thought it would be, you know, if you disregard the poorly behaved dog that howls and barks whenever we leave him alone in the apartment, making me cringe and cross my fingers that the neighbors don't report us. Or the smallness of the whole place, with no where for the kids to really go, except for in their room or a tiny corner of the main living space (or inappropriately running up and down the halls like hooligans). Or the lack of direct access to a car without going up and down the elevator, two flights of stairs and through a few locked doors (ugh). Or the uber hotness of living on the 2nd floor, even with the heat set as low as it will go (45 degrees or something) its always nearly 78 in here.

But there are fun silver linings too. The kitchen is at least 3 times bigger than the one in our house (which speaks to the major need for a renovation), the electric bill is about 1/15 of what it is at the house. The floor plan is open so its easy to see what the boys are doing all the time. The boys room is pretty big, so no one is squished. The boys have their own bathroom and when we shower in our bathroom we don't have to worry about waking them at all because its not directly under them.

Anyhow, the journey has started. We've been living here a few weeks and we're starting to get the hang of it. The kids love the elevator, pushing the buttons and going up and down. They think its fun to drive their toy cars in circles across the floors, dance to music all morning and make tons of loud noise to disturb the people who live below us, like dropping things on the floor (or in Owen's case, throwing sippy cups on the floor), jumping off furniture (Collin: Momma! Look how far I can jump from your cedar chest {said with pride} as I cringe and remind him for the 500th time that we can't jump because people live below us).

While we are here, Drew's been spending nearly every night doing pre-demo on the house- selling appliances on craigslist, taking out fixtures we'll keep (fans, light fixtures etc.), pulling out toilets and carpets that we'll save and packing the final few things that are waiting for his attention before the more formal demo (read Excavator and sledgehammer) begins.

The house itself though, is pretty empty. I didn't think that I would be so attached to it, but as it turns out, I am. I actually get a little verklempt when I am there. It feels like being homesick without the home. I'm homesick for what belongs there, and as much as I know logically that it doesn't matter where our family is to keep those memories, it doesn't make it any easier to let go of the house. Its hard for me to reconcile the old memories in that house with what it will become. My emotional attachment is strangely sad and comforting all at once.  I desperately look forward to the new house, but at the same time its hard not to be attached emotionally to the spaces that meant so much to me: Collin and Owen's first steps, bringing them both home from the hospital, our first night back in Minnesota after we were married, moving into the house way back in 2005, the day we found out we were pregnant with Collin, the list goes on. My dissonance is overwhelming enough that I try to actually stay away from the house now- out of sight of out mind seems to be working for me at the present moment.

So, to distract me from wrestling with the feelings associated with our transition between old and new, here's some photos of our temporary life. There aren't many because its not terribly large, but we'll make do for the next 6 months and then it will all be worth it.
Thats what I keep telling myself anyway, as I try to find my way out of the old house.

A journey of 9 months!

If you read this title and think we are pregnant again, I'm sorry to disappoint, but we are NOT pregnant. What we are doing is embarking on a crazy adventure for 9 months to remodel/renovate/start over in our home.

Its been in the works for awhile now, but I thought we should at least try to document the journey so that when our children get older they can see the house they used to live in, the rooms we brought them home to when they were born.

More and more often Collin says to me "Are they coming to build our new house today?"
I respond no, because they aren't coming for awhile, but the journey has started.

How did we wind up remodeling our house you ask?

Well, it actually all started awhile back. Say, when Drew bought this house 5 minutes after he met me. It was a bachelor pad. Well, it still is. We knew that we this house wasn't a permanent house for us once we started really dating but as I mentioned we 5 minutes into our relationship so I didn't really get a say, you know?

Anyhow, a couple years later we were welcoming Collin to our family, finishing the basement, and realizing it was a temporary solution. Either we were moving away to somewhere that had more room or we were staying and adding on. We weren't anxious to move at that moment but it was looming in the background of our lives.

Life went on. We've grown accustomed to our routines, our jobs or lives. But its becoming painfully noticeable how we've outgrown this house. We plan to have two more children, and with those future babies around the corner, we really don't have the room to put them in this house.

Then there was that whole housing market slump thing. It made the idea of selling painful. Over the past four years our house as lost over 35,000.00 in value. OUCH. We weren't really interested in taking a huge hit and we love where we live. Location, location, location they say.  We agree.

We mulled over if it was smarter to sell and buy or something add on. We hemmed and hawed. There are moments when I still think "did we make the right decision?" But in the end, the idea of getting exactly what we want in our home, rather than settling for something someone else has built and finding ourselves wanting to change it later, was appealing.

Alas, here are the 9 months.

It seemed the journey actually started a bit ago now, but I'd say we're still in the first trimester. We have an architect, some plans, and a builder. We've been to the drawing table about a dozen times and we're still trying to make our budget match the bid. We've been bending our resources back and forth trying to squeeze every little bit of value from our house, sweat equity, picking quality but fiscally responsible finishes. Its an unending process. Well, I take that back. We'll wrap up plans fairly soon because in the coming month or so we'll break ground and then we start the 6 month clock.

The journey is a crazy one.
Pack up our house for the winter. The whole darn house.

Rip apart the house. Watch every bit of energy we've invested in the basement, in the house, in the moments we've dedicated to making the space ours for the past six years trickle away as we prepare for something new, something better and invited.
Change is always hard, so it is a little bittersweet. I won't lie. But its also going to be a fantastic house that we'll have for the rest of our lives.

Once we take it all apart they start the building process, but not before we move into an apartment. That's right friends. We're headed back to apartment living for a 6 month stay.
Fun times ahead.

And so, to help my boys see how we used to live, how our lives and home has changed since they were born we're going to have a little running documentary.  Every month, maybe even every week if you're lucky we'll take pictures to document the changes and see the transition from our current house to the new house.

So, here we are in installment one. Current house, yard and such. Consider it the "Before" shot. However, we've already started here- you'll notice all the landscaping is gone and that most of the inner walls are missing photos and shelves and we didn't take any photos of the basement, but if you want to see that just go back a few blog posts to "school psychologist christmas in a basement".

We're on our way.

First day of school!

 

Collin had his first day of school on September 4th. I might have almost shed a tear. It was so adorably heart-breaking. He's really growing so fast. I can barely grasp the realities of having a 3 year old in preschool, because in my brain that means that he's just a moment from kindergarten, and then I'll turn around and he'll be 10 or something. It makes my heart ache just typing the keys.

This year we started the first of 15 years of tradition, giving Collin a canvas with his first day of school and what he wants to be when he grows up written on it. This year he said a farmer so he could milk cows.

So, we went to school. He had a great time. We made it through the first few days and then, I did what no parent should EVER EVER EVER do. Worst mom of the year award, special recognition right here. During the last day of phase in, where preschool end at 10:45 instead of the usual 11:30, I left him there. I thought it ended at 11:30. My kid was that kid. The one stuck by himself while the teachers silently shamed me in a phone call. I can just hear their heads racing "Oh, she's going to be that parent! Great! Doesn't she even read the notes? Doesn't she pay attention? We put it in like 5 places."

Its true.

Thats me.
Take it or leave it folks.

I did read the notes. All of them. I made a schedule, I put it on the fridge. I told our nanny. I arranged all the necessary drop off and pick up routines. But I totally failed on that Tuesday. Instead I was juggling a HUGE grant application, another preschool schedule (Collin goes to another school on M/W), working with and scheduling the builder and the architect, packing up the house, tending to three birthdays and trying to maintain some bit of sanity.

It didn't work out so well.
I NEVER cry at work. NEVER. I **almost** cried when I got the call. I've never felt like a worse parent.

So once our nanny picked him up (a 1/2 hour late!) I called to apologize to Collin over lunch. He seemed no worse for the wear. In fact he might of liked the one on one time with his teachers, but it didn't seem to help me very much. I was a mess.

A stressed out hot mess.

Thank goodness every day is a new day. Since then we've successfully attended two more days of preschool and I think we're on a roll.

Sorry Collin. I promise not to leave you at preschool ever again.
I swear.

18 er 19 er 20 months....

Oh Owen.
You are a year and a half old. Actually, you are 19 20 months old and I'm just getting to writing this now. Life is busy, and fun and fulfilling and I barely have time to write it all down. I'm so awful about it that there are moments in the day that I think *nearly out loud* that I should WRITE THIS DOWN, because you've done something clever, or you've said one of your stock phrases that I think is adorable, but fail to remember 10 minutes later what it is and how heartwarming your little voice is. Until of course you do it again, I smile and giggle, cross my heart that I'll WRITE it DOWN (and proceed to keep right on without doing it).

Ugh.

18 months came and went. I think we were doing about 20 things that day. None of which was typing on the computer to update the world on your growth (sorry). You keep me on my toes and I can barely stand how cute you are. At 18 months you are becoming so independent and milestones are like a stairway to the top of the mountain that your racing along to.

These days your language is hilarious and explosive. We can't keep up with all of the great things you say.  You are a mimic and constantly repeat what we say. You love to say "P.U stinky!" and "come on!", "Here you go!" and "FUN-nee". Everyday I bust out laughing because some common phrase of mine comes out of your little mouth in your adorable little voice. Common phrases around the house:

 (Owen farts, laughs hysterically) "Excoos Me" followed by "P.U. Stinky!"
 (In his highchair after breakfast, lunch and dinner) "Crawker pwease!...PWEASE!!"
(Also in his highchair because Owen loves food) "Huskchwerry!" (for husk cherries, which we all love at our house, followed soon after by other requests) "Cown! Cown!" (for corn)
(When I leave for work, or someone else leaves) "Bye Bye!, see you tater!" (accompanied by the most adorable head nod, should shrug, smile and wave- its a deadly combination and nearly makes me come back into the house and stay).
"I lubdyou!" (which means I love you and is so super ridiculously adorable that I should record it and play it over and over again everyday. Maybe I will.)
"Hereyougo" all one word mushed together, as he offers you something to eat or play with.
"Cow-in! Cow-in, PEEK!" when looking for Collin
"Wake up!" When one of us pretends to be sleeping.

A glimpse of your world looks something like waking up around 6:30 or 7:00, depending if you get to sleep naturally to rise, or if Collin comes barging in your room anxious for you to play. Usually its the later. We get up, change your diaper and head off to breakfast. You love food. You're a toddler foodie. You can't resist the treats that come across your plate in the form of veggies and fruits. After breakfast we get you dressed and then we're off to the races. Lately you've been very interested in walking around the house with the pull along alligator, playing with your talking caterpillar and pushing trains and tractors here there and everywhere. You're a little bit obsessed with tractors right now and suddenly, after 18 months of trying to get you to love reading you've finally come to the dark side. Every day you crawl into your rocking chair and hand me pairs of books to read one after another. I love to see you enjoy books and hunger for the stories and vocabulary nested between the pages. We play and play until lunch, most days taking Collin to preschool and others going to visit the library or other fun place. Then we're back to the happy place that is food for you, followed by nap and afternoon shenanigans. You love being outside, playing in the pool, chasing the dog, its all a picnic in the park for you.

At the same time you are in the middle of a serious word explosion. Words, words, everywhere! Everyday I listen a little closer to the two word phrases you are putting together. Up pwease. num nums, hungwie! everything is an observation and you're narating what you need and want all the time. When you are frustrated you resort to "uhs"- groans to and points. I often repeat it right back to you and say I don't understand. "Owen, use your words!" and then he busts up laughing. Apparently whining is funny stuff.

You've also got a keen eye on our changes in routine. A month or so ago you started calling out for Collin and now all the time you call him just to make sure that he is nearby. Two weeks ago Collin started preschool and now 4 days a week he's in class and you're not so sure about it. The first few days you kept saying "where Cow-in?" and school didn't seem to be a satisfactory response.

You can never do anything halfheartedly- you always have to have two of everything, one for each hand, and you are adamant emotionally, never leaving behind an opportunity to showcase your dramatic tantrumming ability. Its rather funny, but in the back of my mind I'm always thinking TROUBLE. At the same time though, even though your passion shows up in some not so fantastic behaviors, you are also such a lover. People always comment on how happy you are, and its true, you are an easy happy baby, if guided my a strong sense of passion for those things that you love and hate.

You LOVE the ladies. You go out of your way to connect. We were in a restaurant recently, sitting near the door and you made sure to make eye contact and say "hi' with a little shoulder shrug to every single lady that walked by. You redefine toddler flirting and all of the people who get to hold you and be with you know it (and love it).

You're starting to potty train now, albeit sporadically. You think its hilarious to pee in the bathtub and are pretty good at trying, but also pretty good at telling us when you have to go right after you went. So its a sort of catch and release game we play. We'll get serious about it soon enough, but for now, its just for fun.

During the past few months you've met many new encounters, or at least things that you can't remember doing last year. We went to the state fair and you ate your share of cheese curds, snow cones and fish sticks. It was so great to see you enjoy yourself.

This age, these 18-21 months of magnificent word explosions and adventurous leaps beyond our fingertips into the unknown is exhilarating and amazing and quite possibly my favorite age. You are so adorable, I can squeeze you like a little baby, but at the same time you are leaving my grasp to explore the world with a heartfelt fearlessness. I can't describe how you encounter the world, how you approach new situations with excitement, and the innocent energy that pours from you, that I desperately wish I could bottle and preserve. It captures some of the most innocent and purely happy moments of life. I find myself admiring you, your excitement, your generous love and kindness and wishing I could be in those very moments with you, erasing all the cares of the world that adults wear so heavily on their shoulders.

You are on the cusp of so much. School (ECFE toddler class) starts next week and you'll start making your first true friends. You are running now, leaping and bounding through afternoons, working on colors, and vocabulary. Using your words instead of emotions to tell me what you need. Its all budding and bubbling up in you like a geyser. I can't wait for you to reach the peak.

You are uniquely our Owen. Little O, Baby O. You are fearless. You are adorable. You are incredibly cuddly and happy. You are passionate and dramatic. You are everything I could have hoped for in our second beautiful baby boy. We are blessed and happy and look forward to every moment of your future.

We love you so very much.
love
Momma and Daddy