I feel so laaaaaaazy
When we left for Costa Rica, spring was raging here in Portland. When we came back, spring had turned the corner and summer had moved in. It's like there was a set change or something while we were gone. Spring was very lovely but summer? Summer effing rocks. It's upper 70s-mid 80s and sunny EVERY DAY. And you know why Portland summers kick Washington DC summers in the ass? There's not that oppressive, sticky, kick-your-sweat-glands-into-overdrive humidity. Put quite simply - this is how summer is supposed to be. And it makes me feel so, so lazy. I don't want to straighten up the house while the girls nap. I don't want to count my calories. I'd much prefer to chill on the back deck with a big glass of lemonade, my book (I'm currently reading The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls - intriguing and horrifying) and the entire bag of Barbara's baked white cheddar cheese puffs. Maybe an ice cream sandwich for dessert.
Then again, I am such a freakin' fat-ass in the vacation pictures of me in my bathing suit (as well as some others that I plan to crop and Photoshop heavily), that's probably not a very good idea. Wouldn't it be great if one could burn calories while lying down and reading? I bet I'd be in supermodel form.
I haven't blogged about The Charmer in awhile so I'll give you an update. We're supposed to close on Monday, but that's not going to happen. The mortgage company is requiring a 3-year roof certification (or a new roof) before they'll sign over the money and I think I'll have that tonight. But then it'll probably still take until next Thursday to process it and have everything ready to go. In order to extend the closing, we need the Pricks to sign another addendum to push it back 10 days. And - surprise!! - they've had it since yesterday and still no signature. I suppose there's a chance that they'd blow up the deal instead of signing the extension but that just seems beyond pointless. They're not carrying a mortgage on the house or anything, so it shouldn't be a burden to own it for another week and a half. Anyway, I'm not sweating it. I'm just going with the flow. Because it's summer. And I'm lazy.
Now, if you'll excuse me - I'm going to measure out a sensible portion of cheese puffs, pour myself a big glass of water, and go outside with my book and the baby monitor.
PURA VIDA!
In case you don't know already, pura vida is Costa Rica's official slogan. It literally means "pure life" but down there it also means "hi," "bye," "stay cool," and "hells yeah!" It's sort of at the heart of their laid-back way. I wish it was the slogan for our country. People would be a lot more chill. I like chill. Heck - I love chill.
Our trip was pretty damn great. It was jam-packed with action, adventure, good food, family, hammocks. I wish there was a highlight reel and I could just cue the video. Since there's not, here's a list of highlights and lowlights (points of interest, I suppose) from our 9-day trip to Costa Rica. These are in no particular order...
Let's start with the snake! Um, I pretty much have a snake phobia. I am, quite literally, terrified of them. Even seeing them behind glass at the zoo makes me feel like I might have a panic attack. Now I know that there are all kinds of snakes, including very poisonous ones, in Costa Rica. This was my third trip there, though, and I'd never seen one. I really wasn't worried about it. Billy - Erika's husband - shares my horror of all things snake and WAS worried about it. I kept reassuring him that he was going on over nothing. WEEELLLLLL....we were on a little jungle hike on our land - not hacking our way through the jungle but on a path that my brother, Jonas, keeps maintained. Jonas was leading the way, followed by his six-year-old step-daughter, Billy, me with Belly in a sling, Erika and Dude with the Bug in a sling. There are so many amazing things to see in the jungle - everything grows on everything else and the flowers are S-T-U-N-N-I-N-G and exotic and it feels like happy paradise. Erika wanted Billy to take a picture of her in front of a cool tree so she leaned against it while he backed up to get the shot. All of a sudden, Erika started barking commands in a crisp, tight, incredibly authoritative tone of voice. "Everybody stop. Billy - go by Rachael right now. And Rachael - move further down the path. Lily - stay far away. Dude - don't come any closer. In fact, back up a ways. There is a snake RIGHT THERE." We all looked. There was an effing terciopelo (also called a fer-de-lance) about two feet behind where Billy was standing to take the picture of Erika. Here's the link to Wikipedia, but lemme tell you, it's a pit-viper. It is known to be aggressive. It can shoot its venom up to six feet. One has three hours to get to the anti-venom before all hell breaks loose and your limbs start crumbling off (not really - but close - look at that picture on Wikipedia). This snake is basically the one that I had hoped to avoid. And there it was, all coiled up and looking at us. I would've fainted, but that would've meant that me and my baby were on the ground with the snake. Ultimately, the snake did nothing and we all moved on down the path. Jonas would've killed it with his machete, but we were all focused on just getting AWAY from it - plus it was in the jungle, not near the house. Ugh. Oh, and Erika kept getting closer and closer to it trying to get a good picture. She's nuts. She never did get a clear picture, but this one's close enough.
We flew from Portland to Dallas (where we met up with Erika and Billy) to San Jose, Costa Rica, then spent the night at a cool little B&B before driving the 4 hours or so to the farm the next day. Here's a picture of Dude and Belly at that B&B. It's one of my new favorite pics.
When we turned onto the dirt road (from the gravel road) that leads to the path that leads to our farm (you have to walk in about 15 minutes), there was a sloth hanging from an elevated water line. The animal was abuzz with flies and even had a spider hanging off of it. Check it out, yo.
Here's just a funny photo that Erika took near San Jose. Apparently, Jesus personally helps guide this surgeon's hand. Hmmm. I wonder if he does tummy tucks.
Anyway, back to our adventures. Jonas is almost done building our "communal house." Eventually, we'll have our own "cabina" that has a couple bedrooms, a hang-out area and maybe a deck or something. We'll use the communal house for the kitchen and more hang-out-ability. Here's the outside of the house.
And some views from the house at sunset...
We spent a day down at the ocean. The Pacific has never felt so warm. Jonas and his family schooled me on all the different kinds of waves that come in and how to handle them. There are Swimmers, Floaters, Surprisers, Butt Breakers and Brain Suckers. There might be more, but that's what I remember. Jonas cut open cocos for us and we drank the sweet, watery milk. We frolicked. We gathered shells. We got a little sunburned. It was pretty perfect. Here are a few pics of Playa Ventanas.
Then the day took a turn for the worse when some cops came to the beach and said that Erika and Billy's rental truck had been broken into. The "stealers" (as my nephew called them) dropped a huge rock through the back passenger window and took the bag with my sister's knitting (a blanket for Belly!) and her almost-finished-really-good book. So lame.
Things looked up again, though, when we left the beach and drove up the road to a hidden waterfall to rinse off the salt water. It was COLD but lovely after a hot day at the beach with its bathwater waves.
I cut down a rack of bananas on the farm! With a machete! I felt kind of like a warrior. Seeing the pictures, though, I look like a gringa taking a few whacks for a photo op. Maybe someday I'll fit in a little better down there.
There's so much more to tell, but this post is getting ridiculously ginormous. It was super great to hang out with Jonas and the family - his kids, Zia and Mikah; his fiance, Judy; and her daughter, Lily. I miss them so much when they're down there and I'm grateful that my kids got to spend a lot of time with their cousins. Here are some pictures of that gorgeous family...
My nephew, Mikah:
My niece, Zia:
Zia & Mikah together:
My "new" niece, Lily:
My bro, Jonas:
My sister-in-law, Judy (whom I think looks like a young Isabella Rossellini):
Plus here are Erika & Billy:
Me with my vacation babies - The Bug & Belly (I can't find a good one of just the two of them):
And last but not least, me with my Dude and girls (on the jungle hike about 10 minutes before we saw the snake - girls were SOUND asleep):
Pura Vida, peeps! Pura Vida.
**And thanks, Erika, for taking so many great pictures!
Technical difficulties
I promise a post is coming detailing our big Costa Rica trip. Our wireless router died and we only got the new one fired up tonight. It's almost 1am, though, and I must go to bed. Undoubtedly, either Belly or the Bug will wake up in a couple hours and I'll need to climb into bed with them. Plus Belly is still waking up on Costa Rica time, which will be in about 4-4.5 hours from now.
Here's a little nugget to hold you over: While hiking through the jungle on our land, we had a close encounter with a terciopelo. Yikes!
Nighty night.
An appropriate title for this post simply doesn't exist
We got back from Costa Rica last night and I will certainly do some extensive blogging on our trip, but I need to relay some bad news. About half an hour after we got back to Portland, Erika told me that D had received a call from Cyan's mom. Cyan had come to a point where her parents had to make the decision to "let her go." And so, it is with much sadness that I write this: Cyan passed away yesterday.
I know that there were people literally all over the world praying for her and keeping her in their thoughts. I really want to believe in the power of prayer but why doesn't it work every time it is so thoroughly deserved? It's not fair and damn it - I want fucking fair. I positively ache for Cyan's family and friends. Eleven and a half years ago, one of my sisters died in a car accident. It was sudden and final and there was no up and down and holding out hope. It was and still is devastating. Cyan's situation was different in that her family had hope. But is that worse? To believe with all you've got that there will be a happy ending to this trauma and then the worst happens? I think it might be.
I just...I just don't know what else to say. It's too sad; too unfair.
Hasta el 24 de mayo
Holy Shmoly. I am doing my best to get this family packed and ready to leave for the airport at 6am tomorrow. And to remain calm in the process. There is so much to do. Why do toddlers need so much STUFF? Seriously. And why am I writing a blog instead of checking things off my list?? I'll be back around Memorial Day... PURA VIDA!
At peace with the universe
I wrote and posted last night's blog while Dude was at the grocery store. He came home and said, "Look. I've been thinking about everything you said. I'd be willing to cover the repairs, but we need to be on the same page that this is our final stance." I didn't even cry to get him to this place. Dude is, quite simply, the Best Husband In The World For Me. That's all there is to it. If you ever ready this, honey, know that I think you rock.
We heard back from the Pricks this morning that they would lower the price to the appraised price, but would only pay $1000 toward closing and repairs. So we submitted a formal final addendum laying our cards on the table and stating that the Pricks had until 8pm tonight to accept our terms or we terminate the contract and get our earnest money back. We would not negotiate any further. They then asked if we'd take $2500 in closing costs. I said no.
Today was the day that I reached my limit with this thing. The Charmer is, well, charming but it's not the only house in the world. And the Pricks are, well, pricks and I'm tired of dealing with them. We have been more than fair. We have been patient when they've missed deadlines in the past. We've overlooked their complete prickish prickiness on multiple occasions. And I'm done. Forget about buttoning everything up by the end of the day Wednesday. Today was it. And I felt really good about that. If they didn't want to sell us this house, then so be it.
Do you have any idea how adult that is? Man. At 34, sometimes I actually get it right.
7:52pm. Our realtor called. She had just gotten off the phone with the listing agent, who was crying. The Pricks said that they would pay $4000 toward closing costs AND THAT WAS IT. Additionally, if this deal didn't go through, they planned to file a complaint against her - which would mean that there would be a hearing with some realtor board or something like that. Now, the listing agent is pretty inept, but the Pricks are SUCH pricks. They shouldn't blame the deal going south on her. Our realtor (who is an immeasurably good person) told the listing agent that it sounded like $4000 was needed to seal the deal - and she would take a $2000 cut in her commission if the listing agent did the same and that would cover the rest of the closing costs. To which the listing agent agreed.
Have you followed all of this? Do you understand what this means? THE CHARMER IS MINE!! Again. And I'm going to Costa Rica on Friday. Thanks, Universe. I think you're pretty cool.
Fix it! Fiiiiiix it! Fix it!
Does that title make sense to anybody? You know the SNL bit? (I'm assuming the answer is yes. If not, look it up. It's funny shit.) Anyway, that's how I'm feeling about things right now.
So, the Charmer didn't appraise and we're renegotiating with the Pricks (aka the sellers). We told the Pricks that we wanted them to drop the price to the appraised price (another $13k) and keep the $13k intact for closing and repair costs that we'd already negotiated. The Pricks came back (after 5 days) and said they'd drop the price to the appraised price, but only pay $1000 toward closing and repairs. We countered saying appraised price, $13k for closing and repairs, but we'd give them the $2600 savings we'd net in the down payment at the lower price. They were supposed to get back to us tonight because they think we're leaving for Costa Rica at 6am tomorrow (really it's Friday). And guess what? Not a fucking peep. Dude and I have argued about it all night. Dude thinks we're paying too much for the house and is strongly opposed to paying another penny; I think it would be worth it to get the Pricks to cover the closing costs ($8k) but not the repairs ($5k). It all just SUCKS. And it is going to come down to one of these scenarios:
1) We get the house at the terms that are sitting in front of the Pricks now. I rejoice. Dude sighs and is resigned to the fact that we're buying what he now calls "the white elephant." Nice.
2) The Pricks counter with something that has us splitting the closing and repair costs with them. I want to do it. Dude doesn't. I can't make him. Maybe he caves because I cry. I rejoice. Dude resents me and my girl tears. Or he doesn't cave and we move on to option 3.
3) The Pricks say no/we can't come to terms by Wednesday (our final deadline for having this in the bag)/option 2 ends in Dude's favor. We don't buy the house. Dude rejoices. I resent him for being a cheap bastard.
I simply am not seeing a clear path to a wholly happy ending at this juncture. But I still want that damn house. Ugh. Maybe this should tell me that the Charmer is not the house for us, but I just feel like it is. Dude and I can't even agree on what "the signs" mean. He thinks that it's been too much work already to get it and we must be blind to see that it's time to move on. I think we have worked so hard to get where we are because it's meant to be ours. Dang you, Charmer! Why are you so enticing? Why do I love you so? I can't quit you.
(How do I start with SNL and end with Brokeback Mountain? What is wrong with my brain?)
I believe the technical sound is "lubb-dub"
As in, lubb-dub lubb-dub lubb-dub lubb-dub - the sound of a beating heart. Just like Cyan's new one! Her new heart is pumping away and she has been moved into a recovery room. Keep the good thoughts flowing that everything stays strong and that internal damage was minimal from the rejection of the last one. One incredible hurdle down...not sure how many to go but what a heck of a good start!
HEART!!
Erika just emailed me that Cyan has two potential hearts on the way. They've scheduled her surgery for 6pm today. PLEASE send Cyan all the positive energy you can today. This is really it. Oh God.
Take that, mofos! And Happy Mother's Day.
I believe that Belly realized she's getting a developmental evaluation because, all of a sudden, she's walking everywhere. It's like she's giving me the finger, "You think I can't walk? Well, EFF YOU! I just like being carried, okay? Isn't that my right to get around however I please? What? Next you'll be trying to evaluate me because I don't like to use eating utensils. Hand-to-mouth is SO much more effective. GAWD, MOM!" I'd say that little punk has walked as much as she has crawled today. And yes, I love it. Regardless of the motivation, I'm hoping that this continues and isn't just a fun trick she's decided to show off for a day or two (like last time). I can't help but think walking will improve her quality of life immensely.
And since this is Mother's Day, I'd like to give a shout out to all the muthas in the house. Oh wait - in this house, that's just me. Woot! Woot! But seriously, Happy Mother's Day to all of you to whom this day applies. I woke up this morning, snuggled my girls, and thanked them for making me a mom; their mom. It's the best thing I've ever done. Dude brought me coffee (tepid because of my sore mouth) and a marionberry fritter from Tulip Bakery down the street (they make the best donuts I've ever had in my life). And after breakfast, Bri and I took Belly and The Bug to Powell's. Fun! I bought some new Spanish books for our trip since mine are all packed up still. Now the girls are napping, Dude is working (as he does every Sunday) and I'm enjoying the quiet.
Have I mentioned that Bri is all but accepted into the Peace Corps? She should know in the next couple of weeks (but she is SO in). I will be very, very, very sad to see her go. I'm also very, very, very excited for her. And in an attempt to find that silver lining for myself (yes, yes - I'm selfish, I know), she says that I can "borrow" her tall teal boots while she's gone AND her bike. Sweet!!! I'll have to scope out the rest of her stuff and see what else I want.
A big heavy day
I've started and stopped and edited this post about six times so far today. It has been...a day. A week. A month. I'm ready for things to chill out. Last night, I felt like I was going to implode with everything going on but today has been more calm - mostly because there are things I can control and things that I definitely cannot. I'm old enough to know that shitty things happen and I have no choice but to deal with it all. I also know that things that suck ass now sometimes work out for the best in the end. And sometimes things just suck ass. Here's what I've got going on (in no particular order)...
I had a post-op checkup with the oral surgeon today because, well, I still can't feel half of my chin. He believes it's temporary nerve damage but it could go on for as long as two months. I'm going back next Wednesday afternoon for him to check it again. He packed my sockets with clove eugenia (is that redundant?) which helped with some of the pain, but everything is still pretty sore - except, of course, my chin. I can't take the Percocet during the day because that could impair my parenting ability, so I'm only taking ibuprofen for the pain. And I have McCainian jowls - especially on the left side. It's pretty sweet.
I called to schedule the developmental evaluation that Belly's pediatrician recommended yesterday. There was a little confusion when I called, though, and I was bounced between a few people. I started getting the distinct impression that this evaluation was for behavioral concerns, not motor skills as I had been led to believe. After ultimately leaving a voicemail for someone that was supposed to be the person that could help me, I was overcome with a flash flood of worry. I got a call back a couple hours later and it is because of the walking not something else. Now I can go back to just worrying about it like I was before I started making calls.
My mom has had a lump on her collar bone for several weeks now and has done nothing about it. I felt it the other night and it was pretty solid, yet still kind of malleable. I made her call her doctor and schedule an appointment for this morning to get it looked at. Two of my siblings have had Hodgkins lymphoma so we tend to freak pretty hard core when lumps start showing up. I did my best to stay calm but it made me absolutely insane that I couldn't go with her this morning. Her doctor was worried. She sent Mom to get an ultrasound, after which Mom was to discuss next steps with the radiologist. Just in case, the doctor scheduled a CT scan for later this afternoon and a biopsy for tomorrow morning. Great. THAT sounded like no cause for alarm. So Mom had the ultrasound and the radiologist determined that the lump is just muscle mass. Basically, Mom is in desperate need of a massage. Thank effing God. I had already hatched the entire plan of how Mom was going to move in with us, I'd take care of her, etc. I hadn't quite figured out how I was going to run the B&B from Portland, though.
The Charmer. The sellers, whom I believe I've mentioned are completely insane, decided to go out of town for the weekend and think about things, informing our realtor that we'd hear back from them on Monday. What's the effing point in being like that?? It's not our fault the house didn't appraise. We should now be a united team trying to get this transaction done. We can always buy a different house. They're stuck with a house that appraises for less than they want to sell it. I just don't get them. The stress around this deal is two-fold: 1) I want this house and I will be seriously, seriously bummed if we don't get it (although, at this point, we've done everything within our power to make it happen); and 2) I need for the whole thing to not eff up my Costa Rican vacation plans. I need that damn vacation. And if the combination of both one and two were to happen, I might go postal on the seller. I'm so not kidding.
So my stress levels are awfully high today. But then I think about Cyan and it all seems petty and totally manageable. Erika emailed me this morning with a clearer picture of what's happening with Cyan. The head of the PICU at the hospital where she is says, "Things are not going well. I can’t say much due to privacy issues but a huge miracle is needed and lots of prayers for her and her family." Cyan definitely needs a new heart and has been alive only because of life support. They do not and will not know the extent of the damage to her other organs and her brain until she has a new heart. I simply cannot fathom what her family is going through. This constant straddling of the line of life and death seems so drawn out and immeasurably torturous. My niece, D, is obviously quite upset as she watches one of her best friends hover in limbo. She told me that she cried at school today. Ugh. I wish there was something I could do for SOMEONE involved in this terrible thing. I hate feeling so helpless.
This is not a pleasant post. No. No, it is not. Let me end it, though, with a beautiful poem that D wrote today entitled Continuous Infusion: Cyan.
You were born with a broken heart
but it won't be hard to fix
Butterfly wings will rip through the back of your arms
and a tree will sprout from between your lips
I'll send an envelope embossed with silver
And in return you can send me a swarm of bees
You were born with a broken heart
but it won't be hard to fix
I'll connect myself to you with a tube
And a series of memories linked like a chain
I'll send a continuous infusion straight from my heart
Blood transfusion full of love and music and a waiting glass house:
Everything you'll need to survive this
Teeth, toddlers, Cyan
Alright, so I'm definitely more sore than yesterday. The left side of my jaw is swelling more and I can't open my mouth any more than necessary to gingerly slide a spoon in. I think the worst part is that I can feel these sutures in the back of my mouth and I know they're not, but they feel like they're dangling out in my mouth. I want them to hurry up and dissolve already! Plus, my chin is still numb. As in, I could probably have it pierced right now and not feel it. Not that I would. I don't like chin piercings, but that's not the point. The point is that it's weird to not be able to feel one's chin. Also, it hurts to laugh - too much cheek movement. Ugh. I'm whiney. I will be honest, though, and say that it's not as bad as I thought it would be. Tomorrow may be worse. We'll see.
Also, the girls had their eighteen-month checkup this afternoon. There were shots involved - four each. Not good. Buggy actually held in her little tears of agony until the third shot. She was such a brave little kid. She was extremely patient the whole time the doctor examined her and even offered up her ears and mouth and everything to be checked as the doctor needed it. Everyone - including the doctor - was duly impressed. Belly was the complete opposite. She screamed starting when the doctor tried to listen to her chest and continued pretty much through the shots. It was a ton o'fun.
They've each only gained a pound and an inch since their last checkup two months ago. But the doctor said she wasn't worried about the low weight gain because they're active and haven't felt well this past month. And just as I suspected, the doctor has ordered a developmental evaluation for my little Belly. She said she's not concerned about any Autism or anything like that (YES!), but it would be good to get her checked out since she's slow with the motor skills. I suppose I shouldn't be worried about it, but I am. I'm the Mom. It's what I do.
Speaking of worry, Cyan has been stable, but is back on the list for another heart. I'm not 100% sure, but I think they've been forcing this heart to work for her via machine because her mom said "they may restart this heart in a day or two and see how it's looking." She also said the "doctors are feeling a little more optimistic." I guess that really puts my whining about teeth and worrying about Belly in perspective, huh? Things could be much worse here.
The deed is done
I actually wasn't that nervous when we got to the oral surgeon's office, most likely because of that additional Valium I took this morning. They put me in the chair, took my blood pressure, hooked me up to some electrodes, stuck some nitrous in my nose and I was already starting to drift. Dr. Auzins came in and said hello. He asked what I had for breakfast and I told him, "Valium." To which he laughed and informed me that he was going to give me the IV. And then I closed my eyes. Thirty seconds later, the good doctor informed me that he was done and that I needed to wake up to go home. Uh, what? Who? Huh? And then they were giving Dude care and feeding instructions (like I was a puppy or something) and we left. Dude informed me we were there about an hour and 15 minutes.
I came home and slept about 4 1/2 hours. Mom has taken the girls to the park and here I am - blogging, trying to eat tapioca pudding, contemplating putting on a bib because my lower jaw is still numb and I'm spilling it down my chin and onto my shirt. I look hot.
One of the "after" documents that Dude was given says that I can put wet tea bags under the gauze and they will help with the bleeding. I tried this. My mouth was propped open so wide that I looked like I was walking around in total surprise. That lasted about four minutes.
I lined up all of my prescriptions to see what looked good: one last Valium, Percocet, ibuprofen, antibiotics and some really terrible-looking mouthwash. I think I'll save that Valium as a "Mama's little helper" for another time (I'll put it in the cupboard with my expired Xanax from when I had an MRI). If I remember correctly from when I had the girls, the Percocet makes me constipated. So...ibuprofen 600 it is. And a pack of frozen corn on my face. Have I mentioned how effing hot I look right now? I hear chipmunk cheeks are the new black and I'm runway ready.
I know this is going to get worse before it gets better, but so far it is not so bad. I mean, really, the worst part is that there is a box of Trader Joe's Roasted Gorgonzola crackers sitting a foot away from me and I can't eat them. Oh, and here's a fun-fact for the day: Did you know that tapioca and manioc and cassava are the same thing? I had no idea! All these developing countries are eating tapioca pudding as their main source of food? Had I been aware of this, I may have pushed harder for Dude and I to join the Peace Corps a few years back. I looooove tapioca.
Twas the night before teeth were ripped from my face
I've realized that as I blog more often, my posts are getting shorter and shorter. I'm sorry. Unless you like that, in which case I tip my hat and say, you're welcome. Anyway...
The oral surgery to extract my wisdom teeth is scheduled for 8am tomorrow. Um, I'm scared. Not scared in an oh-my-God-surgery-is-scary kind of way, but more like an oh-my-God-if-Belly-smacks-my-cheeks-like-she-does-every-day-to-identify-them-as-cheeks-I'm-gonna-be-in-so-much-pain kind of way. It's that pain afterward that I fear the most. Taking a snooze in a reclined chair doesn't give me the willies AT ALL. In fact, it sounds sorta like going to the spa (to which I have not been since last Mother's Day, which should be evident by that comparison). Fine. I'm exaggerating. But the idea of getting knocked out for a little while and having my mom take care of the girls for a few days - and make me tapioca pudding - sounds really appealing with all the crap going on right now.
I can't even begin to think about the house right now. We submitted an addendum to the sellers asking them to lower the price to the appraisal price. We haven't heard anything back yet. What a mother trucking nightmare.
Dude is dealing with some serious work deadlines right now and his stress level is through the roof. He's been sleeping about five hours a night, getting up at the crack of dawn to work (hey - who is this Dawn anyway and what is her crack doing near my husband?!). He then goes back to work after the girls are asleep and the dishes are done. Our hang-out time is pretty limited to Saturdays right now. It is so unbelievably lame, but I'm going along with it because it is supposedly only a short-term thing. The house thing and and the Costa Rica trip are adding to his stress right now, but I'm doing my best to manage them. I should clarify that the idea of traveling to Costa Rica with the girls (and the timing) are what stress Dude out - not actually being there. Getting off the grid will do him a world of good. I just have to get us there...
Oh, the Valium I took 40 minutes ago is starting to take effect. Must go to bed now. Nighty-night. See you on the other side... yeeeeeee!!!
Are you effing kidding me??
We just found out that the Charmer appraised lower than the sales price. I can't effing believe it. Personally, I think the appraiser doesn't know shit from shinola, but whatever. Now we either a) renegotiate the price with the crazy-ass, I'm-a-litigator-and-better-than-you, psycho seller; or b) get another appraisal and see what happens; or c) walk. We're starting with the first option. My Costa Rican vacation may disappear because of this. All of a sudden, my oral surgery tomorrow seems like the least of my worries. I'm ready for a Valium right now.
Two completely unrelated things
Thing One:
There is a radio station here - 94.7 Alternative Portland - that I am loving. And when I say loving, I mean sitting in the parking lot at the grocery store to finish hearing a song before I go in and then sitting in my driveway after I get home to finish that song and then coming inside to look at the on-air playlist online to see what I missed when I was in the store. A sample hour tonight included Lily Allen, Pearl Jam, Kings of Leon, U2, Metric, Hockey, Green Day, Death Cab for Cutie, Silversun Pickups, The Killers and The Ting Tings.
Additionally, KOPB (Oregon Public Broadcasting) has a kick-ass show on Saturday and Sunday nights called In House with Jeremy Petersen. I just erased and rewrote this sentence five times as I tried to describe how super effing awesome this program is. Do yourself a favor and check it out online. You will become cool instantly (in case you weren't already, that is...um, yeah). Need a taste? Last Sunday's 8pm hour playlist included The Shins, The Smiths, Sam Phillips, Celilo, The Felice Brothers, The Old Believers, The Pixies, Morning Teleportation, The National, Dinosaur Jr., Fischerspooner, The Clientele, Stereolab, Dave Sitek and The Cure.
Thing the Second:
Have you tried the Trader Joe's Tom Yam Rice Snacks? O.M.G. Buy them. Eat them. Love them.
A promised Cyan update
Since my last update said that I'd know more today, I'm posting. Going forward, I will only post when there is substantial news. Things are still very much in flux with Cyan. She had further exploratory surgery, a big complication, possible damage to other internal organs, but the bleeding in her chest has stopped. Her mother says they have "guarded optimism." Keep her in your thoughts and prayers, please. Sigh. This is rough.
Update on Cyan
I've had some emails asking, so here is an update on Cyan. Erika told me earlier today that she is sedated and we probably won't know anything more until Monday. Please keep Cyan in your thoughts, people. She's still in the thick of things.
A glimpse of breakfasts to come
Dude and I took the girls to our new neighborhood this morning in search of breakfast. We found a sweet little spot approximately four blocks from what will be our new digs. Dude and I both had eggs benedict and it was t-a-s-t-y. The girls had blueberry pancakes and fruit.
While both girls are hesitant to talk to strangers, The Bug goes super shy for a longer span of time than Belly. She just clams up and STARES. Our waitress, Maryanne, was also the owner of this fine establishment and she was hilariously funny - really great with the girls. Belly seemed pleased that Maryanne brought her bananas and dried cranberries immediately. The Bug...well...she seemed borderline terrified. Maryanne kept a safe distance, but tried to engage both girls in conversation the whole time we were there. The other waitress also came over to chat and ham it up for the girls. At one point, the two women stood next to each other in front of The Bug and Maryanne asked her questions like she was a Magic 8 ball.
"Which of us is prettier? Hey! She looked at me! Which of us is older? Smart girl! She looked at you! Which of us has a son named Bernie? No, sorry - it's her. Who has a son named Joe? Right! It's me!"
Buggy didn't move a muscle the whole time except to shift her eyes back and forth between the two women. I thought I was going to pee my pants, it was so funny.
Maryanne was incredibly nice. When we told her we were moving to the neighborhood, she made a point of learning our names, telling us about other kids that live around there and said to me as we were about to leave, "Rachael, if you need anything - and I mean ANYTHING - come on in. I'm usually here. I remember I had a rough first year in Portland so I'm here for you. I mean it." If that's not a warm welcome to the neighborhood, I don't know what is.
After breakfast, we walked up to our new home and peeked in the windows. The stagers have taken all of the furniture out of it so it looked pretty bare. But I still love it. Even empty, it's warm and inviting. Which is good considering I don't currently have enough furniture to fill it and because of what we're paying for it, I'm not going to have enough cash on hand to feel comfortable going out and buying a bunch of stuff right away. I suppose I will have it decorated properly a few years from now with a combination of pieces bought new, at estate sales, vintage shops. The end result will be better than if I purchased everything right away anyway. But for reals - Spartan is going to be our style until then. Think minimalist but with Fisher Price toys.
Cyan
My 15-year-old niece has a good friend named Cyan whom I have never met but have been thinking about on a pretty consistent basis for the last week. Cyan has been in the hospital for more than a month because her heart has been wearing out. I guess she was born with some sort of condition and they've been expecting this for the last fifteen years. The only thing that would fix the situation would be a new heart. After 4 or 5 possible hearts that weren't quite right, one became available for Cyan a week ago that was right and she underwent a 10-hour surgery.
Let's stop here for a minute. Can you imagine the joy at being told that a heart is on its way? And the sheer terror her parents experienced knowing that going into that surgery might be the last time they see her alive? I can't. I just can't. It seems unbearable. Back to the story...
The surgery was a resounding success. Cyan's new heart has been beating solidly in her chest. She's been healing quickly and as of Tuesday, has been IV-free and preparing to go home to finish recovering there (much less risk of infection than in the hospital). That was the last update that I got from my niece this afternoon. Plus she read me a beautiful poem that she'd written that was inspired by this whole ordeal.
I just got home from going out for a quick dinner with Dude and the girls and there's an email from Erika saying that Cyan is now back in the ICU and showing signs of rejecting her heart. And my niece posted on Facebook that Cyan had a heart attack. I've been crying and praying as my own heart now hurts.
If asked, I would say that I'm not religious, but I'm not sure that's exactly right. I guess I'm more spiritual, but that sounds hippie-dippie and not accurate either. I suppose I'm somewhere in between. Regardless of classification, I believe in God and I've been begging "him" to save that girl. Save Cyan. Save. Her.
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