Where to begin?

I've been especially lousy at this blogging nonsense lately. So there's no way to catch up, other than a choppy, yawn-inducing run down. Consider yourself warned. And feel free to bail.

Mostly, this has dominated our lives the last few months:

Cleaning, painting, staging, and then, when the phone rang, scrambling to load 3 kids and 2 dogs into the Ody to vacate, and fast. We quickly fell into a routine. Fia makes a mad window washer woman, and Wonderboy is your guy if you want to ensure that all toilets have been flushed (And if you have kids who don't really see much point in flushing, like mine, this would be something you'll want to double check before you leave for a showing. I can't imagine who needs to look down a toilet when considering buying a house, but I'm just saying. You wouldn't want to lose a potential buyer just because your kids are particularly phobic about flushing). Poor Bubs got strapped securely in his car seat at T minus 15 minutes because that was the only way to do the last minute shine up, without his especially efficient counter effects. But it's done, and we have been grateful that it only took about 2 weeks for our initial offer to come in. And with the contract signed, the wee people went happily back to lettin' it mellow, because that's what they do.

E did a preliminary house hunt alone while in Chicago for work. And then WE. ALL. WENT. TO. CHICAGO. And if you've never personally been stupid enough to house hunt with three young children in tow, you really should try it. It's delightful. I'm sure it was E's idea.

I guess it wasn't really that bad. Wait. Yes, it was. But the kids were crazy excited and they did pretty well, all things considered. If all the planets align just so, and the sellers decide not to continue their pattern of just-plain-loco-ness and burn the place down before closing, this will be our new home:But, really, I'll believe it when we actually have keys in hand. Besides, there's always Motel 6. I think they leave the light on there.

Oh, and one of the great trials of Miss Fia's young life has been sitting in a "BOY" car seat. Back when I purchased Wonderboy's car seat (a Britax Marathon) in 2002, I got one of the first ones to hit the shelves in D.C., and consequently had to settle for the only color available - a grey-blue sort of velveteen option. And then when Fia was ready to move out of the infant seat, I got all practical and conservative and decided the seats should match, so I bought another boring grey-blue Marathon. She feels quite strongly that she has been subjected to a sore trial indeed, sitting in a grey-blue BOY seat. Until our house-hunting trip, that is. When Southwest's baggage guys must have tied her seat to the end of a long rope and taken it for a joy ride across the tarmac. When we claimed our carseats, 2 of them looked like they'd been through a grizzly attack. Kudos to Southwest though. They reimbursed me for replacement, and now Miss Fia sighs with relief each day as she climbs into her new Mariposa Marathon "GIRLY" seat. Poor thing. The shame I've put her through.