It’s located about an hour from Jason’s job, and a bit further from our family. We could have stayed closer but all the nearby hotels had no pool. I was fine either way, but knowing that I really wanted a pool, Jason insisted on driving the longer distance to and from work each day so that Lyla and I could be happy. If you know him, this will not surprise you. He is a very thoughtful and generous person, especially with his family. And if you know me, you know I wasn’t about to argue.
Today’s Jason’s first day at the new job. I’m very excited for him and I can’t wait to hear all about it. I wonder if this is how it will feel when Lyla goes to Kindergarten? Hmm, probably not considering I was sound asleep when he left this morning. To be fair, I’d been up all night. Unfortunately, we all were. Lyla had a tummy ache (too much Iowa corn too soon perhaps) and because of it, none of us got much sleep. I hope Jason doesn’t nod off during training.
Then this morning, I realized – after he’d already driven away – that I left my cell phone in the car. Now I have no way of reaching him at his new job, nor would I ever think of calling on Day 1. I don’t want to do anything to hinder his first impression (or mine – I don’t want to be perceived as the crazy wife who calls and has him paged on his first day!). Besides, I’m fine and I’m certain he’ll try to call me on his lunch break to check in. Hopefully he’ll do so from inside the car so he’ll at least hear my phone ring before he gets too worried about why I’m not answering. He probably won’t jump to the same serial killer or Children of the Corn conclusion I would, but I still don’t want him to worry.
But let’s get back to the not-so-Super 8.
Today is my last day with my computer before the movers come and take it away. It will be in storage for 30 days, give or take until we close on our new house. This will be the longest I’ve gone without it.
I’m feeling sentimental so I wrote this brief verse…
I might not get to see you as often as I’d like.
I may not get to touch you each and every night.
But deep down in my heart I know that it’s true.
No matter what happens on the moving truck or in storage…
I will always love you
We’re moving this week! Can you believe it?
Even though I’ll be without my computer and will probably go through the type of withdraw that crystal meth addicts can only dream about, I’m still excited about the move. My fingers will get a break from typing they haven’t had in over a decade. Meanwhile, I’ll write pen to paper in an actual notebook (as in born from an actual tree, but not necessarily Apple). Considering I didn’t even have my own computer until my 20s, it could potentially make me feel like a kid again. Deep into my 30s, that sensation is always welcome.
Sure! It’s bound to be challenging at times, but it will also be nostalgic and nostalgia always breeds inspiration.
I’m also (secretly) excited about writing a future blog I’ve already started drafting in my mind. It will be about living in a Super 8 motel. Yep, that’s where my husband, daughter and I will be staying for a month or so until we settle in Iowa. Can you imagine?? Well, you won’t have to because I plan to tell you ALL about it as soon as I have the opportunity. I know you’re probably thinking what I’m thinking! It will be like being sent on a freelance reporting assignment to another country! I’ve always wanted to know what that would feel like and now I’ll finally have my chance! If nothing else, it’s bound to be an adventure.
Wish me luck! Farewell for now…
For an entire afternoon, I searched for a very bad smell that seemed to be following me everywhere. It wasn’t until later when I realized…
Yep, it was me.
Isn’t that the worst? Deny if you must, but I’m sure we’ve all been there. Or been “it” for that matter.
Nobody wants to admit being the source of the bad smell. But it happens. So I feel obligated to admit it when it happens to me. I’m occasionally the bad smell. I might as well fess up. There have been times when I’ve skipped a shower, forgotten to apply deodorant or when I’ve passed the point of being able to deny a passing of gas or blame the person next to me – with a straight face anyway. So what? Bad smells happens to everyone!
And since becoming a mom, the smells are far worse than they used to be. I’ve smelled of sour milk, formula, strained peas, vomit, urine, day-old apple juice. Show me a mom who hasn’t?
But this time was worse. It was poop. Gross, I know! Let me explain…
My daughter is going through a pre-potty training phase where she often feels the urgency to rip her diaper off and run around. Ordinarily, this is adorable and funny. If watching a toddler run bear-butted and free, giggling in joy, doesn’t bring a smile to your face then you’re simply not human, or you’re probably not the child’s mommy anyway! Toddler tushies are priceless and, yes, I’ve taken photos and even video of my own toddler’s tush. I hold myself back from posting the pictures in any public forum, on FaceBook or showing them off to friends and strangers. But I have them and I plan to keep them. Someday I vow to embarrass her with them.
But this particular time wasn’t quite so adorable. This time, the diaper was full of poop when she tore it off and before I had a chance to stop it from happening it was already all over her, me, our clothes and everything else!
Of course we removed the soiled clothing, soaked, showered and scrubbed the poop off. Then while she napped (pooped from all the pooping, I guess), I scrubbed the floors and walls. Then I showered again.
It wasn’t until later – much, much later, when I realized I must have missed a spot. And, for the record, there’s no such thing as missing just a spot when the topic is poop because that “spot” followed us around all day. It was everywhere. To be honest, I did not think for a second that it was me. But it was.
While Lyla slept, I continued to clean and disinfect and even lit a candle and opened the windows to air out the place. When she woke up, we went for a long walk on the beach and every now and then I swore I still smelled it – when the wind was just right. I didn’t think much of it, thought it was my imagination rather than a real lingering smell. Later, we ran a few errands together and made a trip for groceries. I’d put the moment and the smell behind us. Or at least that’s what I thought. But in the supermarket, I smelled it again. And others smelled it too. I saw them scrunching their noses in the classic ‘what’s that smell?’ fashion. I scrunched mine back as if to say I smelled it too. Still not wanting to go back home post-poop-episode, we decided to grab a smoothie and a Happy Meal (Lyla loves fries, but who doesn’t?). I swore I smelled it in line, but ignorantly assumed it was someone else. Finally, after enough time had passed for the coast to clear, we went back home.
Then the doorbell rang. It was UPS ironically dropping off a shipment from diapers dot com.
I answered and I could tell immediately the UPS guy smelled it too. He didn’t even try to hide his expression as he literally turned his nose up at me. The smell must have smacked him right in the face when I opened the door. Or maybe he saw the actual spot. He didn’t say one way or the other so I still can’t be sure. Although unlikely, it’s entirely possible because as it turns out he came face to face with it. In fact, his face was almost as close to “it” as mine.
After signing for the package and shutting the door, I noticed the smell was still there. I must have missed a spot, I thought to myself. But where? It seemed to have been following me around all day. That could only mean one thing. It had to be on me.
That’s when I realized a teensy tiny speck of my child’s feces was on my glasses. It had been there the whole time. I’m not entirely sure how it got there or how I failed to notice it. It must have either splattered up onto the wire frame of my glasses (better there than in my eye!) or perhaps my daughter touched my glasses (better them than my face!) with her poopy hands while I focused on cleaning her up. I’d obviously removed them from my face prior to showering but didn’t even think about checking before putting them back on my face. Why would I? To my knowledge, I’ve never before had poop on my own glasses. But there’s a first time for everything, I guess.
So the spot I’d missed was literally right before (or beside) my eyes the entire time.
Next time I smell a bad smell, I’ll know to check there first!