Suddenly It's 10:30

I'm sitting on the floor of the living room, surrounded by: 

1. A warm pup

2. Folded (!) laundry

3. Packed (!) suitcases

4. Diapers -- some dirty, some clean

5. A portable DVD player unwrapped, explored, then wrapped back up to be returned

6. One (not two) baby monitor

Here's why.

1. Mosey senses that we're leaving and is nervous, and therefore is either at my heels or is sitting ON MY FEET at all times.

2. Tada! Aren't I good?

3. Tada! Let's face it. If I didn't get them packed while half of us were gone for the weekend, they weren't going to get packed until the morning of the trip.

4. How many diapers need to come with us for our travel day and first night in Vail? Could be two, could be 20. (The dirty ones just haven't been put in the garbage yet. If you're appalled by this, you might want to reference an earlier blog to become comfortable with my cleaning habits.)

5. We have a portable DVD player that is old and being held together with tape. Since Wednesday involves about 7 hours of travel time, I thought it'd be smart to buy a new, dual-screen DVD player. Turns out the only one I could find in our little town is junky and not quite the steal I thought it was. 

6. Despite coming home yesterday from Grandma and Pop's house (to which she begged repeatedly to return), Berit is currently staying overnight with Mimi and Grandpa, who will surely miss her and be missed while we're away (and who also sense our anxiety over a list of things that need to get done before we leave because....)

Hooray! We have a second showing for our house on Thursday. Which means we have to leave our house sparkling clean Wednesday morning, but which also means there is a chance we could sell it. (From Vail, nonetheless!) I suppose all of my griping about cleaning the house goes right out the window now, huh? Although, I do feel like the more I brag about this second showing, the larger the chances are that they'll pass. So that's it. Now you know, I'm not writing about it anymore. 

When Berit came home on Sunday, my mom called to tell me how special and lovely she is. And I recently had the same conversation with Trevor's mom. No one can believe that she is a stinker here at home, which I believe is fairly typical of grandparents. But I get so jealous of those people who get her all to themselves; who get to listen to her entire idea, who get to play her new game until she tires of it, who get to dance all day or wear the dress-up clothes she chooses for them all day or just have two arms to hold her all day. (This is a recurring theme in my blog, I know. Therapy? Chocolate?) I know I'm giving my girls the gift of sisterhood, of which I could not be more pleased because I have a wonderful sister and I'm so grateful they'll have each other. And they do truly love each other. But oh, you should see Berit when she's with my mom or Trevor's mom or my sister. She's in heaven, showing off her newest moves and telling them her brightest ideas. It's like she knows she's their center of attention and she runs to them, out of the darkness of our boring home hoping for excitement and action and she relaxes right into their arms, like "finally, thank you." It makes me so happy for her and also so sad for me. Oh that sounds very whiny; sorry. I want to be that person, not the one who has to make her stand in the corner because she's being a stinker (probably because after breakfast she plays alone while I put Marta down to nap, or because I have to make dinner/change the laundry/pick up Marta instead of putting her up on my feet like an airplane for an entire hour). I know I'm a good mom to my girls, but it's so hard to be the mom I want to be to my daughters individually. I write about Berit because Marta's needs are met, and I have to be with her right now. Berit has the opportunity to be with other people who love her, and of course I want her to be with them, because she thrives. Oh, in a year it'll all be different, right?