Miss me?

We’ve moved into our own house, have gotten away from my parents and are back on our own.  As much as I thought that 60 More Days was going to be an ongoing thing, I’ve come to realize that will not be the case.  Luckily for you, I have another blog, so if you miss me and can’t live without me (or you are only slightly curious and entertained), follow my other blog here.  I would love to see you there and if you decide not to join the journey, I’ve appreciated you following and reading for as long as you did!  Thanks for wanting a peek into my life, and hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!


Day 60: The End? Maybe.

I have been absent for a while, and there is a reason for that.  We (that includes me, Brad, my mom, and my in-laws) have been busy preparing the new crib.  We’ve put HGTV to shame, that is for sure.  We installed a new faucet, did some landscaping, laid down new floor for our garage/gym, replaced most of the hardware in the house, replaced all of the locks and most of the door knobs for the house, painted two rooms, touched up baseboards, put up a fan among other things, cleaned gutters, hung installation that was falling down, unpacked approximately 857 boxes (only a slight exaggeration), organized most rooms, pulled weeds, changed light bulbs, decorated, hung pictures, put together a child’s play set, laid down rugs, and shopped for things we were missing, which I’m pretty sure has had some effect on the economy.  We also had some built in cabinets installed which look fantastic. Can you believe it, the two months have drawn to a close.

In some ways it seems like the food poisoning episode was a year ago, but at the same time, it feels like I’ve only been writing for a couple of weeks.  At the end of the day we all survived the 60 days.  I learned what it was like to live with my parents and Brad experienced living with his in-laws.  We both realized that we are adults and do better on our own.  Chase was the center of attention 24 hours a day and I think he has had the toughest transition back to our family of three.  Dinners are much quieter and we are back to doing our own laundry and cooking and cleaning up after ourselves.  While we loved having our own maid service for two months, it is nicer to have our own space back!  The new house already feels like a home and we have added so many personal touches that it’s starting to look like it too.

So, the sixty days are up, does it mean that this blogging adventure is over?  I don’t think so.  Life is filled with goals and countdowns of all shapes and sizes, so why not keep the 60 days going?

My newest challenge?  I’m working on it, but I’ll try not to be a stranger.  It’s been so long since I wrote, I almost forgot what tags were!

Hope you enjoyed the first sixty days!

Day Forty Nine: The Hunt

I know I’ve written about this before, but it is becoming more and more evident as the days go by.  Every time I’m in the car with Chase, it becomes a desperate search.  Like “Where’s Waldo” in real life.  We spend the entire car ride searching for mowers, boats (being towed, in the water, in front or back yards), tractors (or any construction equipment for that matter), trucks, motorcycles and busses or the holy grail, a fire truck.  Before I had a child, I would not even know that these were things that I saw on the road on a regular basis.  It has opened my eyes tremendously to everyday occurrences.  The most amazing part is how quickly he not only sees the vehicles, but rather how fast he identifies them.  It is immediate.

Did you ever think that I would say that I will miss the drive to drop Chase off in the morning?  It’s one of the longest stretches of time that we get to hang out during weekdays and I love seeing the morning streets through his eyes.  I love his little voice shouting out what he sees and then trying to find it myself if he beat me to it, which happens more than not.  I love getting goosebumps when I see a fire truck coming towards us because I know how he will react.

Although most days, it has been a total pain, there will be parts that I will miss about the commute.  I know, I know, call the papers!

Day Forty Seven-Forty Eight: T-Minus 12

Only 12 more days!  We are less than two weeks away from the big move out!  We’ve scheduled some more “stuff’ and bought more furniture (because really, is there a thing as too much furniture?).  We’ve picked out the last couple rooms worth of paint, purchased the last essential thing that we needed (it is kind of hard to live without a mattress) and also a couple of things that we could probably wait on.  We’re down to not needing much and really, most of those things we’ll be waiting until we’re actually living in the house.

Despite being super busy, we still made time to go on a long run, go to the beach for several hours and go to a baby shower.  Today, we were supposed to go to a baseball game, but ended up doing some shopping, picking out paint, testing out mattresses, baking and delivering blondies and enjoying fishbowl sized margaritas at dinner.  ‘Tis the season?

Next weekend will involve a lot of furniture being delivered, a couple of rooms being painted, a lot of holes being patched up and little nick nacks being fixed.  My in-laws are coming to help and Brad will be out of town (typical).  Then the next weekend, we’re in!  In ways the last month and a half have dragged, but really, it has absolutely FLOWN by!  It seems like a while ago since Mom tried to kill all of us, but it seems like we’ve only lived here for a couple of weeks.

The best part?  We’re still off tomorrow!  We plan on doing another long run in the morning and then spending most of the rest of the day with my in-laws (in the pool) for a Memorial Day party.

We don’t really have that many days to do that much more prep work and the majority of those days will be spent out of town (for Brad) or at work (for me).  The sellers are moving out on Tuesday, the house is being cleaned on Wednesday and then it is ours!  Unbelievable!

Hold on, we’re almost there!  For most of you Americans, enjoy being off tomorrow!  Later!

Day Forty Six: My Time

I love afternoons that are just like today.  It’s the Friday before Memorial Day and we got to leave work a couple of hours early.  I called the sitter, Chase just went down for a nap.  I called Brad, he’s in a meeting.  I called Mom, she’s at a client about 30 minutes away.  I called Dad, he’s still at work.  No one at home, and I have the whole afternoon spread out in front of me.

The possibilities are endless.  I have access to every television in the house, so I could catch up on everything that I, personally saved on the DVR.  I could take Foster for a walk.  I could do some reading of that book that’s been stuck at 63% completed on my Kindle for weeks.  I could take a nap.  I could write some.  I could work on the weekly e-mail to send out to my family.  I could run some errands.  I could tool around on the computer.  I could work on some copywriting that I have been asked to do.  I could go the beach for an hour or so.  I could write my blog.  I could go for a run.  I could bake something for the weekend.  Nothing but choices in front of me.

I never had a true appreciation for these limited opportunities until I had a child, now the ideas of what to do are so delicious, that I usually end up getting overwhelmed and not doing anything.  Thankfully, that’s ok too.  We all need days like today.

Have a fantastic Memorial Day weekend and hope you can find some time for you too : ).

Day Forty Five: Things I Miss

There are some benefits that I didn’t realize would come with living with my mom and dad (like having live in babysitters).  But there are so many things that somehow ended up in storage even though their box was marked as “DO NOT MOVE TO STORAGE.”  Allegedly.  Every day it seems like there is something else that I think of that didn’t make it here.  I don’t dwell on not having these things because it would drive me crazy and it wouldn’t make them appear.  Here’s my most recent list of things that I’m really missing, but will be reunited with sooner rather than later.

My brown skirt that I really, really wanted to wear this morning

Knowing the right temperature and times to bake things (the ‘rents have a convection oven)

Having my own space

A place to put all of Chase’s toys

Our really big couches

My treadmill

Measuring cups, measuring spoons, tips, colors worn in to my liking

My space

Not having to take the interstate to get to and from work

A television remote (they all have previous owners here)

My privacy

Magazine subscriptions (the mail forwarding didn’t seem to work for them)

My treadmill

The Kitchenaid Mixer

Brad (he tends to spend most evenings with the television as his conversation piece)

Having somewhere to put all of my junk

My treadmill

Our books

Various chargers for various gadgets that aren’t in storage : (

Gift bags and boxes that I’ve hoarded for years and would really come in handy this weekend

Not having to go to three different rooms to get ready in the morning

Our DVDs

Over 1000 cable channels (I work for the cable company and we get every channel that exists)

A shorter commute

My treadmill (I mean it)


We’re ¾ of the way done!

Day Forty Four: Nana

Today would have been my Nana’s 87th birthday.  I am going to stray away from my usual post to reblog something I wrote about her when she died.  Sorry for the divergence, but I feel like it is the least I could do in her honor.  We’ll be back to our regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.

This past week I lost my last living grandmother, my mother’s mom whom all of the grandkids called Nana. She had endured a year-long battle with a form of leukemia prevalent among elderly people whose blood gets worn out after decades of doing its job. She is survived by her loving husband of 64 years, her four daughters, 10 grandchildren and 1 great grandchild. She will join her son who passed away in adolescence close to fifty years ago.

That is what everyone will read in the paper, this is the woman that I knew.

I was the first grandchild of the oldest daughter, and had four glorious years of Nana to myself. I named her (and consequently named my grandfather Papa) although she had insisted that she be called “grandmother, it never stuck. My stay at home mom would take me down to North Carolina to the only house I ever knew for weeks at a time when I (and later my sister) were younger. When we weren’t visiting, we would call every weekend and keep in touch that way. When I was about 3 or 4 (I remember this, so I wasn’t that young), I filed a complaint about Nana. She hugged me so tight that it hurt. That epitomizes her role as a person and especially as a grandmother. She loved so much and so hard, it hurt. That is her lifelong legacy.

Days spent with Nana were filled with baking cookies, icing cakes, pouring over baby pictures of my aunts, my mom and myself, fixing delicious southern style meals, playing cards, taking pictures and spending time in her garden or on one of the swings she had installed around the property after she had grandchildren. Once we were in school, we would still go down for a week at a time at least once in the summertime. If we got lucky, we would spend that time in the mountains at a timeshare that my grandparents owned. Mom and Papa would go play golf and Courtney and I would hang out in the condo doing crafts that Nana had brought for us to do. At their house, we knew that every morning there would be a gift waiting for us on the dresser in their room and store bought coffee cake (the ultimate treat for us) waiting on the kitchen counter.

I always had a special place in my heart for Nana when I was younger, but once I grew up; I realized what a special person she was. She was the kindest person I have ever met. She never met a stranger, and never hesitated to tell you all about the strangers she met. She had an enormous heart, would give away everything she had to someone less fortunate than her and also had a wicked sense of humor. She was a religious watcher of entertainment shows on television and sometimes you would get half way through a conversation with her about Britney this or Brad that before realizing she was talking about celebrities. She was a fierce fan of the Braves (and later Nationals), Duke basketball (although she was really a closeted Carolina fan) and Virginia Tech football during and after my time there. She and Papa would stay up later than I would to watch the ends of games or during a particular lengthy and competitive game of triominos or Rummy cube.

Although she was 86, she could remember everything. Even until the day she died she was sharp as a tack. She remembered things about people and events that sometimes it would catch you off guard and you would wonder if she was finally losing it, but she wasn’t. She had just proven to you that her memory was better than yours. 99% of the time she was right about what she was talking about. I like to pride myself on my memory and I know that I get it from her. For her sweet side, she was feisty too. One of the first times my high school boyfriend (and later husband) met Nana, she told him to pull his pants up and that he needed a belt. When I would bring my child down to see her, she would fuss at me about putting him in some nicer outfits (particularly overalls), making sure he had on a dry diaper and had a full stomach. She would fuss at us for not eating enough, waking up too soon (she was a lifelong advocate of sleeping in and practiced herself), calling my unborn child a “kid” (she would ask me if he was a goat) or not helping out our mom. She was extremely protective of her grandchildren. She once chopped the head off of a baby rattlesnake that I came across one summer at their house and she was proud of my sister for breaking up with her mediocre boyfriend (and told her so).

I have so many wonderful memories about Nana. Her chasing down (as much as she could with a walker) a handsome college friend at our wedding that she had met at my college graduation. Waking up to the smell of coffee at their house (my parents didn’t drink coffee, so that olfactory memory was even more powerful). Her crying when I told her that she was going to be a great grandmother and not stopping the tears long enough to call her only daughter that didn’t know yet. Lying in bed with her watching movies that she had recorded off of TV for me and my sister. Swinging on their porch swing for hours hearing about her childhood.

I am selfish about some parts of Nana too. Her side of the family had longevity on its side. Her mother, brother and sister had been close to ninety when they passed away. When Brad and I discussed starting a family, I figured that my children would have memories of their great grandmother because I “knew” I had years before her time would be up. Now that she’s gone, I am so grateful that she was at so many special events in my life. She attended my high school and college graduation. She preceded me down the aisle at my wedding. She got to cuddle and snuggle and hug and kiss my son. She was able to spend five weekends with him before she passed away. But it makes me so sad that he won’t get to know her like I did. That he won’t get to experience the love she had for him or how much joy he brought to her. That he won’t whine to me that she hugs him too tight. Instead all I have are some stories I can tell him about the two of them, and some pictures. Although that is all I have, it’s going to have to be enough. And it is more than anyone else.

No matter your religious affiliation, there are some signs when someone passes away that you cannot ignore. The day after she died, Brad said in a passing comment before leaving for work, “Oh look, our roses are blooming again.” In December. You figure that one out.

I love you Nana, I will miss you until the day that I die, and I will never ever forget you. Thank you for hugging me so tightly. Thank you for being a role model on how to treat other people and how to love. If at the end of the day I have 1/8 of the compassion that you had, then I came out better than most. You were the best grandmother that anyone could ever wish for and I am so happy we had 29 years together. Your legacy will live on among all that met you and knew you and although we won’t be perfect, we will try to make you proud.