Thursday, April 14, 2011

Home Sweet Crazy Home



Last night the kids and I had our first meal in our "new" home. Life has been full of twists and turns for us, and although this is the fourth home I've purchased in my adult life...this one represents not only home for us, but much more. Safety. Security. A new start. Family. Strength.

And with all those deep thoughts, I looked around the blanket last night (I can't look around the table as we don't yet have one) and saw the same look of giddy happiness on all of our faces. We each expressed that happiness in very different ways.

Roan announced that he had to poop the second we walked in the door. Lucky for us, the previous owners had left us a roll of toilet paper, and Ro disappeared into the bathroom, seemingly to make his mark. 12 seconds later he emerged, looking rather unsatisfied. After running through (and receiving emphatic NO's) to my usual list of mom questions following an aborted bathroom break 1. Is the toilet plugged? 2. Is it overflowing? 3. Did you put something other than poo in the toilet? I pulled him aside for a private moment. Roan seemed flustered. I attributed this to constipation...and was mentally reviewing the items I had at the ready to remedy such a problem (prune juice? beer? a cup of joe?) when he announced that what he REALLY wanted to do was PEE OUTSIDE. I pondered this request for about 3 seconds. And then I nodded. We high fived. He whizzed in the bushes and all was right with the world.

Penelope march-sprinted through the house at top speed, screeching "UP!" and "PUPPY" and "Slimcankdooderot" at random moments. (yes, she really does say that, at least that is what it sounds like). She licked a few walls. She sat in my lap and smiled.

Posey, in her typical seven-year old trapped in a 35-year old body style, dashed to her room and began deciding where every piece of furniture should be placed during the move. We had our usual mother/daughter tussle regarding such vital topics as the panties she will wear the first night in the new house, the first friend she will have overnight, and her proposal regarding a flashing NO BOYS ALLOWED sign on her door...and then we did what girls do. We giggled hysterically, applied fresh lip gloss, and went back to the kitchen to bark orders at the menfolk - namely, my Dad and Roan.

It seems that we all constantly define our own sense of normal. I'm thrilled that very little about my children is normal. I'm proud of their complex little selves. And I am deeply sorry to our new neighbors for the sight of my half-naked son in the backyard tonight.

Until next time...