Lost.

Last night, our family attended the ward's Blue and Gold Banquet for Scouting.  Hollis will turn eight and be a Cub Scout next fall, but I'm the member of the Primary Presidency that's responsible for overseeing Scouting now.  The leaders asked us to judge cakes that each family made for the 100th birthday of Boy Scouting in America.

The night started off without a hitch.  We ate good food and watched them hand out awards to the boys who earned them.  We judged the cakes and gave out funny prizes for everyone.  The kids played more or less quietly with the piles of blue and yellow balloons that were all over the cultural hall.

Suddenly, I couldn't see Ivy anywhere.  Toby and I both went into the halls to look for her.  We ran all over the church, checking the bathrooms, the nursery, her Sunday classroom, anywhere she might have gone.  Each time our paths crossed, Toby's face looked a little more sick, and I knew mine was the same.

Where could she have gone?  Surely not outside by herself?  Did I remember hearing the doors to outside open and close a minute before?  I ran into the parking lot, no longer trying to be quiet.

"IVY!"  "IVY!"  It was dark and quiet.  I ran all around the building to make sure she wasn't out there. 

Back into the church.  I found Toby again, and he hadn't found her, either.  I was beginning to panic.  Did she wander off, or did someone take her?  I couldn't even begin to think of the possibilities.  We finally agreed to go disrupt the show, and get everyone present looking for Ivy.  I stood out in the hallway, trying not to be sick.

"Found her!"  Toby called back out the doorway of the cultural hall.  When he'd gone back in to raise the alarm, he found her sitting at our empty table, placidly eating her dessert.  She must have been under our table, or one of the other ones.  She probably never left the room.

Now, I've only seen this happen in movies, but did you know that massive relief can make you weak and dizzy?  I had to go sit down.

Proof that I am tougher than I thought.

Uh, other than the fact that I've unmedicatedly shoved five people into the world under my own power and stuff.

We're STILL waiting.  The guy at the bank said Monday that the appraiser is swamped right now, but we should hear something by the end of the week.  Ladies out there, remember the last trimester of pregnancy, how time seems to dawdle and drag for no reason but increasing your misery and discomfort?  Then, when you think things cannot get worse, the last month takes a year, the last week an age of the earth.  I've got that sort of time-warp going on right now.

Here's how my week has gone:

Every time the phone rings, I pee a little.  It's never the bank.  In the meantime, we work like dogs to pile up capital, paying attention to our needy offspring only when there is no alternative.  (Don't worry, with Loch, that means we only hold him twelve hours out of the day.)  We experience the regularly scheduled craziness from three to four when we box bodices, print labels, and take the pile to the Post Office.  Then, when the busy fades, I realize that ANOTHER DAY has passed without any news.

At this point, I just want to know how it's all going to end.  It's the constant strain of wondering, and not knowing, and being stalled again and again, and again.  NOW WATCH ME TRY TO EXPRESS EMOTION WITH THE CAPS LOCK!  I won't say I'm handling it gracefully, but I am enduring. That counts, right?

If you're waiting to hear about the house...

...so are we.  The bank told us they'd have the appraisal ready by Friday, and let us know if the house is worth enough.  Toby called late that afternoon, but only got the guy's voice mail.  Sigh.  It seems that promising something by Friday means "maybe Friday, if you're lucky."  Or possibly "Call us on Friday, so we can sit around and listen to your message and laugh at the very thought of doing actual work, since we all have salaried desk jobs and only work when we feel like it."

Oh, well.  We have come to an agreement with the seller, signed a contract, and paid the earnest money.  The realtor thought the house would appraise for plenty, so I'm feeling better about that. 


See, I have problems with being objective because:

I'm a pessimist.

Toby's an optimist.

I don't always necessarily trust him, when we don't agree.

We already feel like the house is OURS, to the point of deciding mentally what garish colors to paint and where to place our belongings.  We think it's worth a lot, but what would someone else think?

We've lived in some really crappy places, as a carpenters' family.  Maybe we have really low standards.

I am also kind of paranoid.  You know, "If we want it this bad, it can't possibly work out..."




Maybe that's why I'm a bit moody this weekend.

I think I'm craving Japanese.

Here's what I'm making for supper:

Oyakodon:  Japanese Rice Egg and Chicken
http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Oyakodon-Japanese-Chicken-and-Egg-Rice-Bowl/Detail.aspx

Uma-ni:  Vegetables simmered in shoyu
http://www.theblackmoon.com/Jfood/fvege.html  (at the bottom of the page).

Gomaae:  Spinach with sesame dressing.
http://www.japan-guide.com/r/e108.html

Tonight, I'm thankful for thawed chicken, the wide world of the internets, my multicultural pantry, and a blog that allows me to remember where I found those recipes.  I'll be sure to post how awesome they are, or aren't.

Updade:  I'm also grateful for friends that live close by and have dashi powder to lend when I forgot mine at Toby's parents' house the last time we made sushi there.  Thanks, Lucy!

The recipes were quite good, especially the chicken/rice/egg dish.  It was a bit strange textured, since the recipe called for dumping the eggs on top of the simmering broth and chicken mixture.  I was picturing an omelet, but it was more like an egg-drop soup raft.  It was tasty, though.

I'm By No Means an Expert.

This last two weeks, I've been thinking about money a lot.  I've also been on Spark People every day, recording what I eat, how much water I drink, and any exercise I get (not much).  Eating responsibly is a lot like using a budget.  Both start with a plan, then are successful based on how you deal with the situations real life throws at you.

We don't all start from the same place with either challenge.  Some people have a far harder time losing weight due to health and metabolism issues, and it's hard to budget when the income just doesn't stretch to cover minimal expenses.  It's soooo easy to judge others here, isn't it?

When I was in college, I remember making a remark to my mentor/adviser about how creepy it was that John Lennon called Yoko "Mother."  She told me that one never really knows what a relationship is like unless it's your own.  I don't really know what anyone's money or health situation is like.


All we can really do is share what we've learned.  What have I learned?  Making a meal plan and a list and sticking to it saves cash at the grocery store.  Keeping track of what I eat, even if it's less than ideal, has allowed me to lose about a pound a week for the last several weeks.   I have an account at Spark People, an online free website that allows me to track my fitness and nutrition.  I love having a report at the end of the day that tells me if I've eaten too much or too few calories, fat, carbohydrates, or protein. 

That's what's working for me these days.

Bright Side.

I did make up a basic menu plan for the week, and wrote my grocery list from it. I added the price of each item as I placed it in the cart, and made sure I hadn't overspent. I paid HALF the amount for groceries that I did last week, but to be fair, we didn't have to buy meat or diapers this week.  Still, I'm thrilled with that, and I need something to be thrilled about to keep my mind off whether/how the property will all work out.

Complications.

After spending five days messing about with our bank, getting them "just one more" piece of paper, they finally told us they didn't want to give us a loan.  Not because we were a risk, just because they're a "very conservative" bank.  The loan lady told Toby they hardly ever have foreclosures.  I think that's because the only other loan they have is our other one, on the house we live in currently.  Grrrrr.

Conservative is right.  Our bank has online banking, sort of.  It takes forever for anything to happen there, like once we transferred money from one of our accounts to another after two on a Friday afternoon, and it was not available in either one until midnight the following Tuesday.  Don't even get me started about how long money takes to arrive in our account from Paypal.  My sister tells me she can make a deposit, then go check her account online, and it's there and available.  Sounds sweet.

Anyway, we tried looking at another local bank online, and filled out a pre-approval online.  It took fifteen minutes, and we had the letter we need to make an offer.  Easy, huh?  We took it to the realtor this morning, and signed paperwork to make an official offer.  Now, we just wait to hear if the seller accepts it, or counter-offers.

We went to the bank today, and talked to the loan officer, and all went beautifully until we mentioned that the house was on 17 acres, which were probably worth what we'd be paying for the house and the land together.....Oh, Crap.  Apparently, there's some rule in the secondary market that they won't loan on a house and land if the value of the house isn't worth 70 percent of the selling price.   So now, the bank wants to appraise the house to see what they think it's worth, and we can only get a loan for an additional thirty percent.

It doesn't make sense to me at all, I'd think that they should be really happy to loan on a place where it's worth at least twenty thousand more than they'll be loaning on it.  We have great credit, a very low debt-to-income ratio, and I didn't foresee any problems.  Being self-employed is more of a liability now than it was five years ago.  The loan officer was actually aghast that we hadn't lied on our taxes.  I guess self-employed people usually do.  What the crap?   Oh, well, the longer they take to decide, the more time we have to amass a bigger (than the 20 percent it is already) down payment. 

Still waiting....

Bad Parenting.

Still Waiting...

In a monumental effort to distract myself from worrying about when the bank or realtor will call us today, I'm making plans to make plans.  We need to stick to our Dave Ramsey approved budget every week, with the prospect of two house payments looming before us.  We got in the habit of spending more every week on groceries before Christmas, it's past time to only spend what we plan to spend every week.  Every budged advice article out there suggests having a menu plan for the week, and sticking to it when shopping and cooking.

First, I'll tell you why we haven't done it already, besides general laziness.  As evidenced by the fact that a week ago I wasn't really looking for a house or property to buy, but today I'm placing an offer, we are spur-of-the-moment types.  We want to do whatever, whenever.  With a busy home/internet business, five kids, Primary Counselor Calling, bouts of major/seasonal/postpartum depression, and all the rest of the things that keep us busy all the time, lots of things are not getting done.

This week, I pledge to take cash to the grocery store.  I will use my calculator and list to add up what everything going into the cart will cost.  Then, we will stick to some fairly flexible kind of menu plan.  Off to plan said menu and shopping list.  Maybe it'll be a cute little chart I can post, but more likely it'll be a blah excel spreadsheet.

I can't explain...

...why I am smitten with this house.  Parts of it are seventy years old, but some dreadful remodel attempts are fairly recent.  Check out the "when I care day" paint job.  I must admit that from the road, it looks like a dump. 

It's a bit smaller than our current home, but it has a garage that we can move the business into.  There is an actual dining room, so I'm not trying to seat seven in a kitchen that's big enough to seat two or three.  The laundry room is big enough to bully ours shamefully.  Two rooms have sweet built-in cabinets.   The roof doesn't leak and the floors don't sag.  I would be remiss not to mention that the house plus 17 acres is way cheap, as it is a foreclosure.

My crushes:

A:  Not Fairview.

B:  No feral Fairview chicken population to terrorize our dim cat.

C:  Ten or fifteen minutes closer to almost everywhere.

D:  This is the view out the south (back) side of the house:

It looks like where hobbits live.  Seriously.  (Fingers and toes crossed).

Tick, tick...

We suddenly found an old house and some property for sale in the ideal location for us, and decided to make an offer on it.  We went to the bank and filled out paperwork yesterday for pre-qualification, and they promised it to us "within 24 hours."  I should have known that 24 hours did not include, say, the last half of the day on Friday.  Guess if our papers are ready, so that we can make an offer, and prevent anyone else from buying it before us?  Of course not.  They'll be ready for us first thing on Monday, since they were "short-staffed" today.

So...now we wait.  For the next two days.  We weren't seriously looking a major purchase at this time last week.  Now, I'll be mentally tapping my foot for the next two days, waiting for the stars to align properly so we can make an offer and get it over with.  I hate waiting.  I feel like the place is ours, and am dreaming of the horrifying paint colors I will choose for each room.  Here's to hoping that no one else notices my destiny house and buys it this weekend, before we can.  I hope any other prospective buyers' bank sucks all weekend, too.

The Mag and the Dentist.

Yesterday, Maggie had her second visit to the dentist, to fix some cavities that have been bothering her.  We are so lucky to have a dentist that is both affordable and super nice.  I've been to some dentists that treat kids like animals, and parents like morons.  Our dentist and all his staff are friendly and wonderful to kids.  They talked to Margaret the whole time, and told her what a good little girl she was being, and then let her pick out some cool prizes.  Here's to my kids not being afraid of the dentist, and the fact that Maggie now has no dental red-flags!

Mag likes "princess hair."  So, while it was damp, I braided two little bits in the front and made a crown by crossing them on top of her head.  The picture above shows how cool it looked later, when we took it down.  Love those cheesy smiles!

NOT a diet.. (WARNING: I WILL DISCUSS BREASTS)

Sometimes, I read my sister's "how to be a girl" magazines, since they come to Mom and Dad's house, and since I don't have a clue about how to be a girl.  It's the beginning of a new year, and I read a page about the "average woman" and her diet.  It was something like sixty percent of women are on a diet at all times.  WHAT THE CRAP?

I don't know about you, but when I hear "diet," I think "deprivation."  This is such a sticky issue.  Where does one draw that fine line between being a fluffy but happy pastry-makin' fool and a spazzed-out ascetic who gets all her nutrition from her own sense of self-satisfaction?  And come on, who would YOU rather hang out with?  You know how long that article said the average woman's diet lasts?  About two weeks. 

I haven't been very happy with my body for the last six months at least.  Yeah, go do the math, I have a seven-month-old son.  The first month after a new baby, I feel like I get some leeway, having just evicted a whole superfluous person from myself.  Then reality and the crazy hormones set in.  I walk around Wal-Mart playing the "Is SHE fatter than me?" game in my head.   The problem is, I don't KNOW.  I am overweight, but not obese, according to my BMI.  (TMI, BMI!)

Everyone has this mental picture of what they look like.  Problem is, this self-image is wildly subjective, at least it is for me.  If I've had a pretty good day, am wearing flattering clothing, and the moon is aligned with Jupiter and Mars, head-me is nearly pretty.   But, oh, the flipside.  Have I been snappish with my husband or my kids?  Have I brushed my hair or even looked in a mirror today?  Those days, I feel like I'm wearing the world's ugliest muu-muu, slumped in a hammock, yelling "quit it" at my little Ralph Wiggum-lookalike kids as they poke my bulk with a stick.  Name that Simpson's episode!

Toby and I have not made any huge changes, but we have stopped eating nearly so  many cheap refined carbs at home.  It's been fairly painless, except when we can't think of anything to make for supper and there always seems to be just one last box of macaroni and cheese left in the pantry.  I've slowly lost about ten pounds, which puts me at only eight more to be at my pre-first-pregnancy weight.  Not that that was ideal, but it's a huge amount of progress.   The point is, we've made changes that we can live with, not just for a month or a year until some "happy weight" is reached, but forever.  The kids haven't even noticed a change, and they're eating the same things we are, since I'm way too lazy to make more than one meal at a time.

I'm trying to find that happy medium between making healthy changes for myself and the fam, and still having good food to enjoy.  Just not every day.  How much fun is birthday cake, if you get it every day anyway?  I want special things to remain just that.  I also want my kids to learn moderation and respect for foods and their bodies.  I need to model healthy body-image for them, since there's so much media crap out there telling kids what a healthy, happy person should look like.

I'm trying to make changes outside and inside.  If my brain doesn't think I'm gorgeous, I could weight 90 pounds and still only focus on my wobblies.  My mental goal for this month is to STAND UP STRAIGHT.  I am not a social girl.  I hate crowds and public attention of almost any kind.  I've always physically tried to make myself as unobtrusive as possible.  Then I had kids and they conspired with my Grandma Sandtorf to give me an enormous rack.  I am a short girl, with a very short body, so guess how much more dumpy slouching about can make me?  I'm going to mentally wear my prettiest Damsel In This Dress corset, and I'm going to stand straight and tall, with my shoulders back.  Then I'll probably blush and look at my feet, but BABYSTEPS, y'all.

Where else was I?  Okay, diet.  They suck. You know what I am doing?  I'm exercising and eating more vegetables.  Lots more.  Did you know that sauteed mushrooms in an omelet officially rock?  They do.  I've eaten an omelet nearly every morning for the last few months.  Also, chop up a bum-load of vegetables, toss with olive oil, salt and pepper and roast until they beg for mercy.  And do yourself a favor and look up kale chips.  It sounds nuts, but they are like Pringles, if a beneficent nature intended Pringles.