So we're in the new house and are slowly digging out. There's a lot to do and frankly, unpacking boxes and putting things away is not O's strong suit, so it's slow going. We're having fun exploring the neighborhood, though, and I already feel quite at home. There is a great little park right out our backdoor and Moose, O and I start our morning walk there everyday. Marc's ride to work is quick and easy and his second week is going well. All in all the move has not been too stressful, but as I said, there is still so much to do. I am starting to be tentatively excited about this whole home-ownership thing working out.

The bill so far from O's trip to the hospital...$1,167.55.

Unbelievable. I CANNOT believe that I did not get her on TennCare while we were uninsured. What exactly are all of these charges for? Do not get me wrong...I appreciate the care that she got. I really do. But we were there maybe an hour or so and in the presence of hospital staff for less than a third of that. She received one dose of Tylenol. They ran tests, but we haven't even gotten the bill for that yet. I know that this is not what insurance would have paid for our visit, but they won't work with me on it, except to set up a payment plan. I guess that I should be glad for that. Gah.

I was going to accompany this post with a picture of all the boxes in our dining room, but I think the camera is in one of said boxes. We're on the count down to the move, so posting may be sporadic.

In other news, Olivia followed up yesterday's napping trick with another. She fell out of the crib. I stood her in her bed so that I could close the blinds and turned around just in time to see her go head over heels over the rail. Thankfully, I had moved the armchair over by the bed so that we could sit and read and it slowed her fall a bit. She ended up caught between the two pieces of furniture with her little feet stuck up in the air. I might have laughed if I hadn't been so busy screaming.

Oh yes, she did

My daughter - some of you might know her from her work in "It's 3:00am? I must be jumping up and down screaming" and "If I'm not sleeping, none of ya'll are sleeping" - just put her sweet self down for a nap.

She's been up since 5:45a, so around 9:00, when she started getting yawny, I snatched her up and took her to her room, read some books, kissed the "boo-boo" on her foot four times and then put her in her bed. When she seemed to comply with that, I sat with her for a few minutes and then left the room. This usually brings on the screaming mimi's, but she fussed for a minute and then apparently fell right off to sleep.

Hell yeah.

By the time you read this, Marc will already be at work. After many hours of mental calculations, interviews, negotiating, "what-ifs", tours of hospitals and facilities, and cursing of the people at the ER who basically made him an offer that sounded too good to be true and was, he accepted a position at the best physical rehabilitation hospital in the area. He will be working with patients who, due to injury, illness, stroke, etc. need the full-time care of doctors, physical and occupational therapists, and specialists. The facility seems top-notch and everyone that we met there seems very dedicated and hard-working. Very hard working. Marc goes in at 6:00a and comes home...whenever. They told us to expect long hours. But it's going to be a great opportunity for him to learn a lot, work with good people, narrow down a speciality. It's exciting. And they are going to pay him. That's exciting, too. Though every paycheck he earns for the next 30 years is already gone.

I too am returning to my full-time job - no more dividing up the daily diaper duty, switch-hitting on meal preparation. O and I have gotten very used to having Daddy around and it's going to be a big adjustment for all of us. I hope that he will make it home in the evenings in time for dinner and her bath. Whatever happens, we'll make it work. I feel really good about how this has all played out. It's been a, shall we say, suspenseful summer. Now the season changes and we move on to something new. I'm excited.

Five Things Olivia is Doing That I Can't Get Enough Of
1. Thirsting for new words. I love going around the house with her, pointing out the desk and the chair and the table and the door and listening to her as she tries to say the words back to me.
2. "Winking." God, there has never been anything cuter ever. EVER. She looks at us sideways and then scrunches both eyes closed. I'd buy her a pony if she could ask for it.
3. Singing along with me. We've started going to Kindermusic classes (which she loves) and we have a CD (which I don't love) of all the songs. When I sing to her, she sort of hums tunelessly along with me.
4. Running up to me for a hug and then patting me on the back while I hold her.
5. I swear...I told her I loved her today and she said it back. I know, I know...see #1, but still.

Five Things Olivia is Doing That I Could Live Without
1. Bashing me in the head with her milk cup when I bring her into our room in the morning and try to squeeze in a few more minutes of sleep.
2. Screeching like a monkey on fire whenever Marc or I open our mouths to say a word in the car.
3. I love that she loves shoes and anything shoe-related, but pointing out every pair that she sees? Let me tell you something that you might not have put a lot of thought into lately...wait for it...there are A LOT of shoes in the world.
4. Refusing to eat anything except for raisins.
5. Spitting. Not nice. Quit it.

One Thing Olivia is Doing That I Cannot Figure Out
She has several books with pictures of mice in them. Whenever we get to those pages and I make a mouse sound - you know, Eeek - she looks at me with concern in her eyes and then pats me vigorously on the chest. What is this?

So I struggled all day Monday to figure out what I wanted to say. I had dreaded the anniversary; this year seems harder than last.

It ended up being a busy day for us and I was thankful for that. I finally found a few quiet minutes near midnight and sat down to write something...which was promptly lost by Blogger. I really wish that I had more time to do some reading - there were tributes and some other pieces that I haven't been able to get to. Later in the week maybe...

We went to a family reunion over the weekend (pictures to come) and when we returned on Sunday, Marc made a beeline for the mailbox for the licensure notification that we were sure was there. It wasn't - instead, we found a GINORMOUS bill from the hospital for our uninsured trip to the ER with O. Marc threw it on the mantle and went running to blow off some steam.

On the state's website there is a way to check on the status of an application for a license and Marc does this pretty regularly. I had never done it, but on impulse, I sat down at the computer while he was out and pulled up the site. I entered his name and there it was. Approved. I felt giddy with relief.

So now on to the job situation. He's got several things pending - a pain management clinic, physical rehab hospital, and an ER position - and is at an interview right now. He's so ready to put those healing hands to work.

We are getting packed and ready for a move to the new house. We are going to lease until he gets settled in somewhere and then purchase. I am notoriously bad at preparing for a move. I always feel so unsettled with the boxes and the chaos and I am bad to put everything off to the last minute and then just carry things out by the armload and throw them in the truck. I think the maddest Marc has ever been at me was during Moving Time. I am officially decreeing myself reformed though. Here I sit surrounded by boxes, a few of which I even packed myself, and I feel fine, fine I tell you. I may even go pack a box right now.

I am running out of patience. On my best day, I am not a patient person, but I am getting really snappish and panicky now. I have reached my limit.

Marc filed paperwork with the state almost two months ago in order to get his Physician Assistant license. Reams of paperwork: applications and letters, transcripts and a background check, on and on. We were told up front and we recognize that all of this takes time to review - it has to be seen by several committees of state employees and some of them meet on the first Thursday of the month and some of them meet on the second Tuesday as long as it's an even numbered date and some of them need copies in triplicate, on and on, whatever. They initially looked at everything and then sent Marc a letter asking for additional material that they should have already had. We faxed it to them immediately and now...here we sit...waiting.

We have both been working really hard for This Big Moment - when Marc got his degree and found a great job that he loved and we could settle into some kind of post-school life. We've got plans. (Included in those plans was having a baby, so I guess we can check that off as something we got the jump on, huh?) Marc completed his pre-requisites; jumped through all the PA school application hoops; did really well in his classes; set up his rotations and did really well with all of them; studied, took and passed the boards; worked a bit; was a great husband to a cranky, crazed pregnant wife; had to stay in New York while O and I came back in TN; flew back and forth to visit; etc, etc. He's worked hard. And I worked hard at supporting us all. And now it's going to pay off....wait, now it's going to pay off...wait,...

Sorry. I told you I'm feeling the pressure. It's just that we have so many good things that hinge on this license arriving and they are SO taking their time in getting it here. We have a house hanging out there in the wind, waiting for us to buy it, a job waiting for Marc to take it. We need to move on out of Katy's house so that she can get in here before her water breaks. We need to pay off some debt. We need to start saving some money and think about having another baby (did I just say that?) But for now, here we sit. And everyday, when the mail comes, I think, "There. There it is. Just walk out to the box and grab it." I have thought this everyday for weeks now. On our anniversary, I thought it would come because, well, it was our anniversary and that would be sweet, right? The day after our anniversary, I thought it would come because that was the day that we were actually celebrating our anniversary. The mail comes really early, too, so there is plenty of time to sulk when 10:30 comes and goes with no official word.

Of course, I exaggerate about the sulking. We are keeping brave faces on. But, I am running out of patience.

A weekend away with a toddler is a lot of work. But so worth it.

O and I went to Nashville on Friday with Katy and her son, Miles, to visit Eden and her daughter, Ivy.


It was the first time that we had all gotten together with children who walk. And run. And jump. And go up and down steps and want to swing and blow bubbles and climb and be pushed in the toy car again and again and again. Eden's home was a lovely adventure for all of us with her gardens and porches and quilts and swings and toys and wine and stashes of "O" magazine.

Eden and Katy and I have known each other for half our lives and we've seen each other through many incarnations. Now, our children are each about six months apart and I am loving getting to know my friends again as mothers. I love hearing their stories and asking for their advice. I love seeing an expression on Ivy's face and thinking, "Oh, she looks like Eden when she does that." I love listening to Katy laugh at something Miles says.


Katy's pregnant with her second, so we did a lot of talking about what comes next, how to parent two, where we see ourselves in the coming years. Of course, it's all hypothetical - we don't know when Eden will move into another house or where Katy's travels will take her next or whether I will move back up north - but it's so good to know that we will always be able to come back together like we did this weekend and laugh and plan and reminisce and share.