My kingdom for a toothbrush

Day three in the New Abode, and I can’t find any of my stuff for shit.  My clothes are in various overstuffed duffel bags all around our new bedroom, and every morning I stand in my skivvies debating whether to spend ten minutes trying to unearth the clothes I want to wear, or to just go ahead and put on the turtleneck that is sitting right there in front of me.  I’m so tired of looking for things that I can work up a pretty good argument in my head about how it’s not even going to be in the nineties that day, I mean eighty eight, eighty nine, TOPS, so quit being such a pokey weather pansy and get on with it.

I am whipped at the end of each day, having spent the majority of my time a.) looking for things I need b.) pulling Rosie out of the fireplace or other such precarious predicaments c.) dodging Noah as he whizzes past me on his bike or scooter and d.) LOOKING FOR EVERY SINGLE DAMN THING I NEED ALL THE TIME OMG.

Part of the reason things are hard to find is because this house is gloriously, wonderfully, indulgently spacious, so let’s face it – I’ll go without my pink JCrew flip flops for the rest of time just for the chance live here.  It’s much bigger than our old place.  In fact, throughout the day Noah will call out to me and when I answer he just says “I just wanted to see where you were.”  Also, the aforementioned scooter/bike riding has been a huge hit, especially once he hits this room:


You can hear his teeth clack as he rolls by.

Also standout for the four year old of the family is the refrigerator door ice/water dispenser.  Perfect accessory to the pint-sized Do It Myselfer.  Need some water?  Noah will get it!  Feeling thirsty?  Noah’s got you covered!  Just walk from the front room to the dining room? Better hydrate – Noah’s on it!  It’s pretty cute until you’re the one collecting 27 half filled plastic cups of water at the end of the day to take to the sink.

Rosie is hip to the new joint as well, and seems to know exactly where her room is.  You can put her on the floor anywhere and she takes off with her scootscootscootscoot and makes a beeline for it, stopping only to pick up Tiny Indeterminable Hazardous Detritus on the floor along the way and cram it into her airways.  (Side note: you guys who own Roombas?  Waste of money. Get yourself a nine month old once a week and you’ll be able to EAT off those floors.)

We’re kind of still a little gobsmacked about this whole move – that the opportunity presented itself, that it worked out, that we did it, that we’re here.  In fact, our friends who own this house are occasional readers of Yestertime, and I am worried that if I can’t tone down my CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS HOUSE YOU GUYS OMG posts that they will call to tell us that they made a terrible mistake and that they are moving back in.

To which I will reply, “Great! Welcome home Roomies!”


1 Lynn P { 08.04.09 at 4:28 am }

It’s going to be strange seeing your things in that house, but it’s wonderful! I can just imagine Noah riding his bike through the downstairs circle of rooms. That is a big space. I know you’ll love it. How many times have you lost Rosie?

2 Anjie { 08.04.09 at 10:49 am }

dude. no. body. is. moving. any. more. my mind is still boggled about where to picture people…where to find them. we can all reassess this in a couple of years. next time, though, let’s not have everyone we know move within a month of each other. that is all.

3 Rachel W { 08.04.09 at 8:09 pm }

You’d better find those pink flip flops b/c I can’t stop by the outlets for you anytime soon! However, I do look forward to visiting you in the house before too long. :)

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