I have all of my ducks in a row for our upcoming house move …..but the egg represents the unknown.

Keeping a positive attitude , but always have a little fear that something will pop up and surprise us.

I think that it’s healthy to stay alert and if you think it may happen , you are ready , and if it doesn’t , it’s a win.

30 days of Escrow …..

I made dinner for my kids’ grandmother and I  handed her a fork.

She said ‘oh no, may I have a fork with four prongs please?’

Thinking I had just shown myself up,  and wasted my fathers hard earned money spent on me for boarding school, I immediately changed her fork.

After she left I had to look in my cutlery drawer to see which types of forks I have. True enough the fork with the four prongs felt more substantial , perhaps due to it being heavier?  I honestly had never given it any thought!

I am not a Southern debutante with training in etiquette,  only a Scotswomen from Falkirk,  but I generally know which piece of silverware to use.

I can recognize the cake fork, shrimp fork , salad fork , and  fruit fork etc.

I turned to the great Internet , and the ever trusted Wikipedia for my answers on the history of forks.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fork

I had no forking idea!!

We are currently in the process of selling our home. It is not an easy matter  to choose your next home.  As a matter of fact, neither is selling a home. Two offers have fallen through already  (no fault of ours , or our home) , and we have had many lookie loos at our doors for open houses and realtors who just don’t show up ( with no notice).

We have looked at modern homes, Victorian homes ,and finally decided on a rural two and a half acre ‘farmette’ ( as my mother in law sweetly named it) .

Our offer is in and we are patiently waiting.  The kids have talked about wanting a goat , chickens, and perhaps , even a horse !

Waiting is the worst.

I was out shopping as retail therapy today and spotted a chicken to keep eggs in. I saw it as a lucky charm, a sign of our pending offer, and so I bought it.

I filled it with lovely , clean white eggs ( from the store for now) and showed it off to my eldest son.

” It’s a rooster , momma. ”

Oops , so it is. What kind of a farmer will I be ?

I woke up this morning to the children being awfully quiet, first red flag.

I heard banging next coming from the bathroom, next flag.

Opening the bathroom door two little boys were brushing their teeth , okay c’mon something’s really wrong now.

There was a faint smell of something familiar …..CHOCOLATE! I asked both of them who was eating chocolate at 7 in the morning and they both denied it vehemently. I did the breath smell test and both had culprit breath.

Both of them pointed chocolate covered fingers at each other , blaming the other.

The 6 year old pips up with ‘ but we found it in our beds’. Nice try, I stripped the beds to wash the sheets yesterday.

My stares can kill,  and make even the most hardened criminal crack. A moment later the truth spilled out about sneaking downstairs and raiding the M and Ms jar. Squealing like little piglets.

All of this on the morning we go to the dentist.

Breakfast was withheld , as in my opinion , they picked their fate by stealing and lying about it.

My morning was complete when the car battery was dead, the 2 year old had a tantrum in the driveway, and lost a shoe ,AND the husband was held over at the fire station , and I had to take all three littles to the dentist by myself.

All of this by 9am , and now I am headed to Costco.

At least there were no cavities. I’m doing something right.

I  am moving house and went onto Craigslist to look for cardboard boxes.

I didn’t expect this offer!

I am aging. There is no denying it , no disguising it,  no turning the clock back.

Each morning I wash my face, moisturize it , and start applying my face paint.  I look , and I see dark circles and wrinkles.

Laughter lines,  they call them and I like to think they are correct.  I have laughed a lot so far , but I didn’t agree to having them etched on my face.

Recently I have changed which mirror I look into when I put my make up on.  I used to put it on in my bathroom which has bright bulbs in the lights shining down.  This apparently makes everything look garish and much worse in the harsh light of day.

If you have ever seen the Bridget Jones movie where she puts her make up on in the taxi  whilst driving to a function in the dark ,  you will know what I’m talking about! She arrives looking like a 17th century French harlot.

I have now figured out that the children’s bathroom has natural light flooding in ,and is a lot kinder to me, and those that have to gaze upon me.

Aging isn’t easy, but I’m sliding into it with both feet! Yahoooo!!

Have you ever wondered  what you might tell your younger self if you could?

The immediate thoughts that spring to mind for me are, don’t date him, be more confident, don’t worry about what other people think.

What I really should’ve told myself was that math doesn’t matter in my older life and that I was going to be happy eventually.

There is no plan for your life. (Religious beliefs aside) .  We are meant to make mistakes, have life experiences, be sad, as    that is what shapes us to be the person we are, for better or worse.  But that’s just my opinion.

if you are one of the lucky ones who had no tears , despair , heartbreak, but only a joyful childhood , then I’m happy for you. I believe that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

If I went back to my younger self and said not to date ‘the bad guy’ , I wouldn’t have my oldest son.

If I told myself not to make the move to the United States I would’ve missed out on so much!

If I hadn’t kissed a lot of frogs, I wouldn’t have found my prince.

Changing history might change your life as it is today, but it would also erase some of the most wonderful things that happened to you , because one would impact the other.

I believe that life is for living in the moment.  Don’t look back and regret  as you cannot change it now , but look forward with  hope for a happy future.

I asked my father what he would tell his younger self, he thought about it for a moment and then said he would whisper in his ear

” Google”

Everyday is laundry day in our house.

I have this canvas on my laundry room wall to remind me of the joy I SHOULD feel whilst sorting through dirty socks.

I do at least 2 loads of laundry per day. This is despite my encouraging the boys to wear their jeans, pajamas and sweatshirts for two days ( unless very grass stained or obviously dirty , not the Jammie’s). Each day I go into their room and the laundry basket is overflowing! Whaaaaat? It must be breeding overnight.

Getting the laundry downstairs is either throwing it over the bannister with a yell of ‘watch out below’ and hoping a passing child doesn’t end up with dirty undies on their head , or lying flat out under a ton of socks and pants, OR lugging the baskets myself and hoping I don’t trip and tumble down the stairs. My next house will have an upstairs laundry.

Sorting through the littles laundry is a real chore. Almost 90% is inside out. The socks are rolled up in a little ball , sleeves are tangled inside each other and the  underwear is always inside the pants as they slip these off in one  slick move.

I choose the nicest smelling laundry soap and I hot wash them despite the warnings that their clothes will wear out quicker. I need those kid stains and smells OUT!

Pockets inevitably have been missed and little lizards, pebbles, pennies , candy wrappers and indescribables fall out into the murky waters.

Once it’s dried , it’s the part I like the least ,folding and putting it away. I gave up ironing years ago which is a good thing for me. I will iron a nice shirt if we are going somewhere special but that’s my limit. That’s what tumble dryers are for! Throw the wrinkly shirt in with a wet washcloth , 10 minutes on high, BAM!

Don’t get me started on the little girl still being in cloth diapers , rinsing off poop before the washing , double washing them and putting them out in the sunshine to whiten them. No kidding, it’s extra work.

Whilst I complain , I AM lucky in this day and age that I have hot water and electricity. No having to beat the clothes against the rocks or run them through a mangle as my Granny did.

Still, laundry is a chore, but one day I may be sad that I’m only washing the hubby’s socks and my nightie with no pebbles rattling in the dryer.