kara

We couldn’t find a pair of Sophie’s shoes for a good week. Turns out Sophie had hidden them. In the kitchen. In a pot.

“Just think how happy you would be if you lost everything you have right now, and then got it back again.” —Frances Rodman

“Friends can be said to ‘fall in like’ with as profound a thud as romantic partners fall in love.” —Letty Cottin Pogrebin

“The expression a woman wears on her face is far more important than the clothes she wears on her back.” —Dale Carnegie

Baby A: 1 pound, 6 oz.

Baby A’s heart rate: 141 bpm

Baby B: 1 pound, 3 oz.

Baby B’s heart rate: 152 bpm

Baby Bump: March 1, 23 weeks 2 days

My appointment couldn’t have gone better. My OB was very pleased with how much the babies weighed (and OK with how much I have gained, although I fear it’s a lot). She was happy with the babies’ heart rates and the amount of fluid they were floating in. I have no restrictions—yet. I’m still able to pick up Sophie (as long as I do so with my legs, not my back), practice yoga (as long as I don’t feel lightheaded or uncomfortable) and travel (which made me want to book a flight to Paris, or at least drive to the ocean for a few days, but Andy kept me in check).

I now start going to the doctor every two weeks, with ultrasounds at every other appointment. Although the ultrasounds take a long time, I love them. I love not only feeling the babies move, but seeing them move, and watching those tiny, four-chambered hearts beat and beat and beat oh so fast. Because of work, Andy’s not able to attend each one. I’m thankful for my mom’s help (and, at the last one, my grandma’s!) so that Sophie has someone to sit with. I think Sophie likes watching the babies “on TV,” but I also think she worries, too. Through most of it she asks to hold my hand (which I not-so-secretly love). I think she’s going to be a great big sister.

“Life is always a rich and steady time when you are waiting for something to happen or to hatch.” —E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web

July 20 we listed our house. We had, we think, 35 showings. Knowing our house would take a particular buyer (someone OK with a 109-year-old home, one bathroom on the second floor, only two bedrooms, large yard, detached garage and stone foundation) we worked hard for those showings. When done right, it would take us a good four hours to clean and prep—not easy when one of us was tasked with the job alone, really not easy when Sophie wanted to “help,” and really, really not easy once I got pregnant.

We had two offers. We couldn’t help but but hopeful as we excitedly walked through other houses for sale, thinking of possibilities, thinking ourselves working there, playing there, living there. But both offers fell through.

Fearing our house would never sell, we took it off the market for a month, interviewing architects and contractors about adding on. We love our house—it’s simply too small. Adding on seemed like the perfect solution. But there are issues with adding on—it’s costly, messy and, in the end, we decided it wasn’t for us. Back on the market our house went.

More showings. Second showings. Open houses. Frustrating responses: “House shows excellently. Price right on. Buyer wants a ranch.” Why, why, why see a Dutch Colonial when you want a ranch?

Christmas came. Toys came. Our house grew smaller. My stomach grew bigger. We tried harder. We bought fresh flowers for each showing. I wrote a letter to include with our promotional materials, pointing out the time-worn banister and the crystal doorknobs and the carefully matched moulding around the new French doors. I talked about our apple trees and lilac bushes and mint and lavender and forsythia and mums and butterfly bushes and everything that’s within walking distance—an independent children’s bookstore, the YMCA, Tower Park, shops, restaurants, the school.

It’s been a long, cold winter. Our showings dropped. Our moods dropped. So, we talked about another option: renting. We’d find our dream house, and keep our current house as a rental. Not ideal, but doable.

But, it turns out, we’re picky. Very, very picky.

There was the five-bedroom Victorian with an excellent elementary school and a gorgeous curved staircase … but every room needed stripped, repainted, redone, including the kitchen and baths. We worried about the amount of work the house required while also taking care of a toddler and newborn infants.

There was the lovely four-bedroom bungalow in an excellent school district … but it was priced quite high considering there was standing water in the basement and hardly a yard.

There was the purple foursquare with a huge backyard that we thought for sure would be “it” based off the pictures online … but the exterior needed extensive work, there was no formal dining room and the main living space would have had to been on the third floor.

There was the stained-glass-filled Victorian (have you ever seen a prettier pocket door?) … but it was technically located in a business district and therefore priced so high that we couldn’t afford to buy it and do all the extensive work (think moldy basement) it required.

There was the house right down the street that we finally decided to look at despite its low price, thinking we could get an FHA 203K loan and totally redo it … but after having a contractor walk through it with us we realized we could never afford to buy it and do everything we’d need to do to make it liveable.

There were so many others—close to 50 others. There were newer houses in subdivisions that had everything we thought we needed—four bedrooms, two-and-a-half baths, attached two-car garages, finished basements, large yards—but they also came with long commutes, little character and homeowner’s associations.

And then, less than two weeks ago, we walked through a Tudor and fell in love. We made an offer without even seeing it a second time. They countered. We countered. They countered firm. It was still too high. We walked.

The next day I broke down and had, what I’m pretty sure was, the second panic attack of my life.

And so we stopped. We stopped. We let go. We took our house off the market and decided to focus on something, I fear, we hadn’t been focusing enough on—the two babies growing inside of me who are going to make their appearance very, very soon.

You’d think it would have been an easy decision—an immediate weight off our shoulders. But Andy and I are both quite stubborn. And we had invested so much time. It kills me to think of the time we’ve spent looking, cleaning, prepping, hoping. But, I keep reminding myself, as we make room for a crib and changing table in our already-full bedroom, it’s temporary. I keep reminding myself, as we set up a changing table in our dining room and pack away our fine china, it’s only temporary. I keep reminding myself, as I use great restraint in not checking MLS listings online several times daily, it’s only temporary.

And some weight has been lifted. No longer am I putting off pulling out newborn onesies, wondering if I’ll simply need to repack them for a move. I can better imagine our lives when our family (greatly) grows in just a few short months. No longer am I finding myself cleaning like a madwoman for a showing I was told about only two hours before.

Maybe, once our babies come and we’re sleeping again (that will happen soon, right?) we can talk about buying again, renting again, moving to someplace bigger again. Maybe our house will sell. Maybe our beloved Tudor will still be available, at a lower price. Maybe something better will be available. And that’s the thing about letting go—for now. With letting go we still have hope. We’re not settling. We’re still dreaming and, as anyone who knows me well knows, that’s something I excel at.

“You can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you might find
You get what you need.” —Rolling Stones

First stop: Bagel Street Deli in Athens, OH. Jenna was a huge help to Andy and me on the drive to Timberline, often calming Sophie, finding toys and reading books (thanks, Jenna!).

The drive to Davis, WV was, at times, quite slow and quite tense because of blowing, blustery snow. Upon arriving at a new town we’d debate stopping for the night. But we kept at it and arrived at our lodge around 2:30 am. Here’s Sophie, delighted to be out of the car and up at 2:30am.

Here’s what we woke up to Friday morning—a view of the house across the way and the road in.

View out the front door (thankfully there was another door with less drifting that we could use).

All geared up to brave what was now being classified as a blizzard—to simply visit the Party House across the street.

Poor Sophie buried her face into Andy’s shoulder the entire way—at points the snow was up to our thighs. And, ironically, the slopes were closed as none of the lift workers were able to make it in.

This is a picture of mothering at its finest. Sophie wanted to play in a room where no one else was in. I wanted to talk with friends I rarely see. So I bribed her with a cookie.

Baby House!

Jenna hanging out with Zoey and Sophie.

Sophie and Mandy reading.

Marty and Zoey

Evan and those gorgeous eyes

Evan and Sophie were quite smitten with each other. Here he’s giving Sophie a back rub.

gear

Rebecca, Mandy and Jenna snuggled up

Mafia! We took turns watching each other’s kids in the Baby House so all of us could play.

Sophie loved making this necklace …

and putting it on Zoey.

Greg and Sophie (she convinced quite a few friends to read to her).

Sophie loved playing Play-Doh with Angel and Jenna. Although there was an incident involving Angel, Play-Doh and Angel’s nose that, for some unknown reason sent Sophie into a good 30-minute tantrum. Sophie, a week later, is still talking about Angel putting Play-Doh on her nose.

Sophie and Evan loved playing in an empty cabinet under the kitchen sink. Rebecca would close the cabinet doors and then open them, “scaring” them. They’d both squeal with laughter and every time Sophie laughed Evan would lean over and tickle her. Sophie was quite dismayed upon returning home and discovering all our kitchen cabinets were A) full and B) locked.

Juice time with Dad. Unfortunately for Sophie, because all the roads were closed, we had to greatly ration her milk. She was not happy about the situation.

The kids loved having each other’s toys to play with all weekend.

While the guys watched the sleeping kids, the girls had some girl time.

The Baby House was very minimalist in its decor compared to the Party House, which was perfect—no knick knacks for the kids to get into. There was, however, one piece of “art” hanging on the wall in the Baby House—the sign you see above. Who would write something like that and who would buy it and hang it up? And what does it even mean?

The drive home was much, much better. Andy’s mom watched Tucker at our house over the weekend, and had a homemade banana cream pie waiting for us when we walked in the door–love.

Thanks, Greg, for planning yet another fantastic trip!

“The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches.” —e.e. cummings

Aunt Katy and Uncle Tom let me feed Shane, the turtle, lettuce every morning.

We visited their brand-new house, which they get to move into at the end of the month. (It’s so pretty!) I spent a lot of time running up and down their driveway while they took measurements.

While Nini and Mom were on a mission to find Seagrove Pottery, I scored a new school bus (thanks, Nini!). Here I am playing with it and Uncle Tom. Aunt Katy and Uncle Tom bought mom a beautiful pitcher for her birthday.

Then we visited some old cabins and watched how candles used to be made.

Next, the park!

I was promised chocolate ice cream when we left. And I did not forget. I fell asleep on the way home and, after pulling into Katy and Tom’s driveway, I woke up and the first thing I said was, “Choc-o-late ice cream?”

I also managed to score the best seat in the house while watching Monster’s Inc.

Aunt Katy and Uncle Tom cooked lots of yummy meals. I had so much fun that our last night there, I woke up at 4am insisting on playing with Aunt Katy, Uncle Tom, Nini, Luke and Naobi. Mom spent the next two hours trying to keep me quiet and explaining that people like to sleep in the middle of the night, not play.

The trip home was a little rough, but Nini and Mom did their best to keep me happy. All that sitting in the car seat was well worth it, though. Thanks again, Aunt Katy and Uncle Tom!

“Absence sharpens love, presence strengthens it.” —Thomas Fuller

The day before my birthday I received a gorgeous bouquet of flowers from Jill and Marty …

which Sophie insisted stay on her table, not the dining room table.

After dinner at Wild Ginger with Andy, Sophie and my parents, I opened presents (including perfume and a new camera!) and we ate a delicious French strawberry torte from The BonBonerie.

It was full of my favorite traditions—birthday banner, red plate, favorite food—a perfect evening.

The next day Mom, Sophie and I drove to Winston-Salem, NC for a long weekend visit to see Katy and Tom. Katy cooked a yummy pasta dinner and a delicious homemade cake (which I and Sophie loved).

Thanks to all who made the day so special.

“Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what happened.” —Jennifer Yane

This year Sophie made Valentine’s for family and friends. Unfortunately, I mailed several, with stamps and names, but without addresses (I blame pregnancy brain). And I admit, those that were so kindly returned by the Post Office haven’t been re-mailed.

Sophie received some Valentine’s of her own, including a card and stuffed puppy from Gramma and Paw Paw, a book from GG (which is read daily), this lovely bow from Angel, Marty and Zoey, and a thank-you note from Great Grandma (which is still on our mantel and talked about constantly).

“Life’s greatest happiness is to be convinced we are loved.” —Victor Hugo

We took Sophie to a Stride Rite outlet store in order to buy her her first pair of tennis shoes today. We decided to let her pick them out. As such, she is now the (very proud) owner of (boy) navy blue and white tennis shoes, with Buzz Lightyear on them—and yes, they actually light up. Whatever. She loves them.

(Ignore the bits of torn up book in the background. Apparently Tucker decided to treat himself to Big Red Barn while we were gone. Fortunately, it’s mainly the binding and corners—and still readable.)

“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You’re on your own. And you know what you know. You are the guy who’ll decide where to go.” —Dr. Seuss