Gettin' Ready for Baby

The countdown is ON. T-minus three weeks. Woop woop. 

So I'm just now painting baby's closet. The Engineer repaired the flaking plaster last week. I can't tell you how much better and cleaner it looks!!!

Today I ordered a day gown to smock for baby to wear home from the hospital. I've waited progressively longer with each baby in this regard. I figure I'll have time in the hospital. Cough cough. 

Friends threw a lovely shower and we are well stocked with diapers and wipes. Hooray!!

This morning I combined coupons, returns, and gift cards to purchase a new baby carrier-we wore out our bjorn with the other three and this new one (because it carries to 45lb) will be helpful for our little China baby, too! 

Last night friends joined us for dinner and brought along their fifteen month old. Sister was in heaven. She toted that baby all over the place and played and played. I can't wait to see her with our little one! 

I've been nesting the last few weeks (The Engineer would say that's an understatement)...I made a master check list and am slowly but surely crossing items off. 

We have completed 25 days of homeschool. I'm hoping to get in another 5 so we can take a full six weeks if need be. The children are so excited. They feel like they've been in school forever-I do too!

I am learning to laugh with the best of them as people roll their eyes and look at me like we're crazy when they hear that this isn't our first, but fourth. And inevitably one of the children pipes up and exclaims, "and we are adopting!" Or they will ask if the children hope the baby will be a boy or girl and Little man replies, "I just want a china brother." And wow. The conversations and comments. They aren't all bad. Some are downright funny. The man at Costco asked if we had considered finding another hobby. I laughed hard and told him that after our youngest was born-as in, she had just been placed on my chest-I'm still in the stirrups, and The Engineer exclaimed, "Let's do it again!!!" I love that man. 

We still don't have names picked. Names are tricky. 

I miss this space. Being here. Writing about life. And yet, we are so busy living life right now that I struggle to find the time to eek out more than a phone post. That's alright. Tis but a season. A sweet, albeit very busy season. 

Happy weekend y'all!

2012...in Pictures (May)

2010...in Pictures (May)

2009...in Pictures (May)

Hello friends! We have had a lovely weekend with LOTS of progress. You'd hardly recognize our 50's blue and brown kitchen...minus at least sixty years worth of roach poop (all behind wallpaper, in crevices previously unreachable/see-able, etc. - and grossly - lots of roach poo stains on the trim - despite scrubbing down with bleach water). Are you disgusted yet? Me too! I kept pulling down paper and it would just rain down and I would groan and moan and well, it was just nasty. Just really, really nasty. But, that's all behind us now! I am elated over having a CLEAN kitchen!!! Truly CLEAN!!! What a huge blessing! 

I never dreamed the window trim would sand down and paint so beautifully. And The Engineer's patience and commitment to doing it right - what a tremendous blessing! (My MIL was here for the weekend and was also committed to doing it right = using a level a bajillion times. Totally worth it!) We've paid a little dumb tax trying to save big in one area. Lessons learned. That's alright. (smile)

Happy Tuesday, y'all!

Woosh

I realize November has nearly reached her midpoint...I'm just thankful we survived October. We wrapped up a fantastic soccer season. We didn't win a single game, but man, we learned a lot about losing and losing well. It's a bit early for predictions, but I wouldn't be a bit surprised if Little Man hasn't found his sport. Every afternoon I hear the thud...thud...thud...thud...thud...thud... of the soccer ball against the house. I'm just thankful the wall he kicks against is brick. He broke my rosemary topiary today. With his soccer ball. I'm bummed. Oh well.

The temperatures have dropped 'round here and part in fun and part because well, we just think it's a good thing, we are starting a new tradition and are setting our thermostat at 58 for the week leading up to Thanksgiving. Our first winter married in our own house we'd dug a deep hole financially and were expecting precious Sister and we would do anything to insure I stayed home with her. Part of that desperate commitment meant keeping our thermostat set on 58. It was a cold winter. I remember my father-in-law begging us to turn the heat on, "I have thin blood!" he argued. As my dear husband said to me when I, with child, had pleaded, he said also to his father, "Put on another sweatshirt."

It was worth the sacrifice. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. And so we decided to do it again, this time with the children. For fun. And to remind us of how our Father has provided for us. What a sweet blessing warmth is. And there is something wonderful about bundling up and squishing together to keep warm while we read.

Sister continues to rock her homeschooling. I mean, let's be honest here, there are tears and some days she runs a few laps around the yard...and there is lots of writing the same thing again and again and again, and my heart is so happy and content having her here with me. This is such a blessing. Even when it's hard and I feel like beating my head against a brick wall, I wouldn't trade it.

Meet Mr. Inventive. What? Are those pistachios hard to open? Grab your dad's push up thing-a-ma-jiggers and smash the fool out of the pistachios. Uh-huh. I mean, WHAT was he thinking? (I'm smiling - but my initial reaction was more like, "WHAT are you doing???!!!)

They had a fashion show. And they roped Little Man into it by convincing him he could be a "sports hero." Hence the trophies and baseball.

And the shirt...not sure what's up with the shirt. But the hair, he likes it that way. Truth be told, I do, too.

Sassy doesn't stop with the clothes..."Little Bit, we got some work to do, girl friend!"

And Sister...with her hair like that and glasses on her head, she reminds me of my dear high school friend! You know who you are! (wink)

This is one of those shots you take and look at later and you gasp and wonder if it's a glimpse into what she'll look like in ten years.

The rip stick...he has yet to master it, but try, try again, he does.

I've been running with a group in our 'hood for several months now. It's been so good. Suffice it to say, a January doctor's appointment revealed I'd hit my all time highest weight. Higher than the day I went into labor with Sister. I changed my diet. Not much happened. After our move, thanks to a new friend, I started running and have kept at it. I am really pumped to say I've lost 26 pounds and am keeping it off. Several weeks ago I ran my first 10k. I placed first in my age category. (Of course, it helped to be the only female in my age category! Hee hee!) I'll take what I can get. (wink) The Engineer and the children cheered me on, the girls in their dress up clothes. SO FUN!!! I love my family!

Woop woop. After close to a year of saving...of working her little tail off, including some "babysitting" (read me: I was there to supervise), some deep cleaning, lots of friendship bracelet selling, etc. Sister saved enough money to buy her very own ipod. We are LOVIN' it!!! We've got restrictions set, etc. The Engineer and I have put on only what we want her to have access to. It is wonderful! We are so proud of you, Sister!!! I don't think that Hello Kitty wallet could've held another dollar.

So back to surviving October - I think I literally breathed a sigh of relief when the calendar turned and it was November 1. Last October we celebrated the exciting news of our long prayed for and so deeply longed for Little One. This October seemed especially hard...in that our arms, in that regard, are empty. Four Octobers total, we've had the exciting news of a baby! October seems to be an especially thrilling month in that regard. I was holding my breath. Hoping. And yet, this October, my womb is empty. And our hearts long. Our children's hearts long. And yet, our lovingly and good Heavenly Father is using this in our lives. I'm baffled. We are puzzled. Holding our hands out and at times, when I think about our family, I have to literally physically pry my fingers open and force myself to hold an open hand out to the Lord as I pray "Your will be done." To recognize that He is good and what He does is good. Even when the scars sear my heart.

I look around. I see this world around me and these hurting people. These people who don't know Jesus. Who don't understand - they haven't tasted His goodness and His grace, His mercy. They don't know what it's like to know you are scum. To know you are hopeless. To know you are so bad, so flawed. So sinful. So wanting and loving of sin. To know you have done such awful things, thought such horrible things...that part of you likes being bad - delights in sinning - that even when you want to do good and set out to do good, you can't. You don't. To come face to face with who you really are - like, the stuff no one else knows - and to meet Jesus there...it's incredibly humbling and so freeing. They don't know what it's like to know that He knows and that still, He loves. Still, He put on flesh and came down to us. He humbled Himself. And they live, day in and day out, without hope. Buying stuff, pursuing something else to fill that void...that void that only He can consume.

And in light of that, I'm like, shouldn't I let this pain go? This shouldn't be such a big deal. I have this eternal hope. And then I'm slapped across the face with the hilarity of what I've been thinking...that it shouldn't be such a big deal. Because it IS a big deal. Our babe didn't accidentally die. God wasn't caught off guard. He sovereignly purposed our Little One's beginning and ending. And He is good. And He has shown me more of Himself through this. He scours my heart. My soul. He refines me through the pain. This is part of my Gospel story. And He is good. And I pray that makes the Gospel more authentic to the friend without hope. I hope and pray that because of my pain, I can reach out to the one hurting and feeling the pain is purposeless. To the one buying and going and doing and smiling that smile, behind which, there is a deeply wounded and grieving heart without hope.

Because, sweet friends, it hurts. Life hurts. And there is Hope. The Gospel is messy. And it is real. And it changes people. It changed me. It's not for perfect people. It's for messed up, screwed up, hopeless punks. It's not for the well. It's for the sick. It's for you. It's for me. The Gospel redeems us. Jesus redeems us.

We recently spent a weekend with college friends and while away, we got to hear our college RUF Minister preach. It was precious to sit under his teaching now, with nearly eleven years of marriage and walking with Jesus since our last encounter. We exchanged hellos after the service. I hugged him and his wife and marveled at how grown their children are and they marveled at ours. But, what I really wanted to say, to shout - I wanted to grab them by the shoulders and say, "The Gospel is real! I'm not the same. God has done so much in my life. I have such a long way to go, but oh, He has shown me so much of my sin and the futility of my thinking, of my choices, of my ways - and I am not the same. WE are not the same. He is changing us!!!" But I didn't. I keep thinking I need to write them. I want to write them.

So anyway, October, you were a hard month. I'm glad you're over.

Before I move on entirely, Mama had a birthday in October! My sisters and I spent a weekend with her. It's always so fun to get away - just the girls. Well, The Engineer and children traveled with me, but stayed with The Engineer's parents. Oh the drive. OH. The drive.

We had Warrior with us. The drive is long anyway, add in miles and miles of stand still, bumper to bumper traffic...it was late. Little Man had been whimpering, complaining of a stomach ache. We finally pulled into a gas station. The Engineer sets the pump on auto and takes Sister and the dog over to a grassy area while Little Man searches for his shoes. It's a busy area. Little Bit has been dead to the world snoozing. We'd already stopped twice, I think, because she thought she needed to go. So I'm in the front seat just hanging while all this is going on. Suddenly Little Bit wakes up and starts screaming. She climbs out of her seat, turns to face it and grabs both armrests and...uh huh...starts grunting with that look on her face.

I scream, "What are you doing?! Are you going???!!!"

Still, with that look on her face and her teeth gritted, she nods. I beg her to stop. I scream at her to stop. I jump out of the car, thankful her bag is at hand, grab pajamas and a pull up and grab her. I'm carrying her so her little fanny is sticking way out...and something is sticking way out of her fanny. She's wearing leggings, so it's all quite obvious. I yell across the parking lot to The Engineer and I literally run for the bathroom. It's a one man deal. Her outer clothes are salvageable, but the undergarment, I just chunk it. Here's my baby, stripped to nothing on a public toilet, not even sitting on a seat protector. She's got both hands on either side of the pot. And girl friend has a tummy ache. And while she's sitttin, her fingers, without her thinking, go straight into her mouth.

She's taking her sweet time and while she's taking her sweet time, the line outside the door is growing. Someone knocks. "Just a minute." So after like, five minutes, I stick my head out and there are about eight college kids. "My three year old has a stomach ache. I'm so sorry. We will be out as quickly as we can." They were kind. Five more minutes and I hear, "Well, the mom is in there with a sick three year old and the dad is in this one with another sick kid."

We finally made it out, after touching every surface of that public bathroom, including standing barefoot on the floor. The line had grown longer. And much to my surprise, they were all - every one of them - sweet and kind to us. They smiled and nodded in understanding. Say what??? That was the grace of God.

So anyway, it was a long trip.

And we gave Warrior away (with full disclosure!). It's a long story. In short, since our move, he'd snapped at Little Bit, leaving bruises on her arm, and had made a regular habit of growling at the children  - all the time. And sometimes at me. I worked with a trainer. We made changes at home. We learned about pack mentality. Funny how the tables turned (remember these posts?-whitewashed tombs and then part II). It's like I finally broke, gave in, came to terms with the fact that he would be a part of the next ten to fifteen years of my life - of raising our children. I had accepted it. And was trying to make the best of it. And The Engineer, who I'd fought every step of the way, He decided it was time. The risk to the children wasn't worth it. And he made the call. We all cried. It was bittersweet. I miss the idea of Warrior, but oh my, life is much simpler now. I worried Sister would take forever getting over him, but she hasn't.

Goodness. Sin comes from within. Y'all, we should've named that dog "Sanctifier." He brought out more sin in my heart! It was bad. Like, we spent time in counseling over my anger towards The Engineer about that dog. For a long time I couldn't seem to do anything without cussing my husband under my breath. It was nasty! We decided we both failed HUGE in the whole thing. Lots of lessons learned. Chapter closed. We're still sad. 'Nough said.

So...I've already shared about nearly setting the oven on fire.

I'm thankful to be married to a genius. I say, "I have an idea. Let's just cut this chunk of cabinets out and slide a range in there."

He's like, "Okay." And he gets his saw, etc. and he does it. He rocks my face off.

Beneath our house is a terrible maze of old and older duct work. There's decent space down there (for a crawl space), but not with the way things are right now. So, when the plumber came to run the gas line for the stove, I volunteered Little Man for any tight crevices. Mr. Plumber accidentally dropped the end cap of the gas line on the wrong side of the duct work and ended up needing Little Man. He was only too happy to help.

After suiting up to crawl under the house he got a HUGE grin - like - ear to ear grin on his face and said, "Mama, God really does have a plan for my life."

I nearly burst into tears. "Yes Little Man. God does indeed have a wonderful plan for your life."

He executed Mr. Plumber's request with perfect precision, following instructions exactly and spent the rest of the afternoon as a "Plumber's Assistant." Prior to leaving, Mr. Plumber paid Little Man two dollars and shook his hand. I think it made Little Man's month.

Hee hee. I am giddy with delight. Cooking on this new baby - I've made eight loaves of bread - every one has turned out PERFECTLY. I just can't express the thrill and blessing this is. The Engineer came home to that first loaf cooling and smiled. I love to love my family with food. There is nothing like the smell of soup cooking all day...of bread baking...the crackle of eggs frying. Thank You, Lord for this new range!!!

And last - I'm finally (I think) learning something so basic. So "duh." So - "I've known this, what's my deal?" Have you figured out - because it's just now clicking with me - that your (my) attitude sets the tone for EVERYONE ELSE'S ATTITUDE IN THE HOUSE???

Because I'm so dense it's just now clicking. If I will just choose ('cause it doesn't usually just happen) to be happy - it makes all the difference in the world. My kids are happier. They snap out of their funky moods quicker. I am the one to set the tone.

And guess what? I don't have to ride their emotional roller coaster. You don't have to ride your kids emotional roller coasters! Just - get off! (Someone told me that once and it's so true.) And so these last few days, when mine have started on that wild ride that drives me INSANE, I'm reminding myself I don't have to ride. To stay on the ground. It's really quite freeing.

It's taken us quite a while to catch up. Perhaps I won't be such a stranger in the future. Regardless, I've missed you and I'm delighted you stuck with me. (big smile)

Happy Friday, y'all!

The Brick House

{When I saw this sticker in the window, I told The Engineer it was a sign that this house and us were meant to be!}

Hey, hey! I never intended to step away for so long. I suppose that's often the way things are. We've been busy doing a lot of living. And I am thankful for that!

{Back Hall}

So...I thought I'd tell you the story of how we ended up here, in the Brick House. For about a million and one reasons we didn't take off to house hunt until March the 22nd. Which left us exactly 28 days to choose a house, haggle over the price, go through with an inspection, and close. Practically unheard of. And yet, it was the best we could swing. We're crazy like that. It's just how we roll. (wink, wink)

{left: hall closet/right: laundry}

Now, the night we arrived to house hunt, we drove past "the house" I just knew would be ours. It was 1:30 in the morning and my palms were sweating. I assured The Engineer we need look no further. This particular house was IT. It was a foreclosure I'd been watching carefully via the web. Our realtor had done some research, taken photos for me, etc. The bank had been hacking away at the price. I had no doubts. 

{guest bath}

And so the next morning our realtor picked us up. I'd told him the it house was the one I wanted to see first. We had roughly forty houses on our list and I was certain we'd choose the first one on the list. The it house. As we pulled away from the hotel, he told us the it house had gone under contract the afternoon before. It'd been less than twenty-four hours. I was crushed. Like, my heart sank kind of crushed. The Engineer was gentle and quick to remind me that God was protecting us from something, leading us to something better.

{guest bath - I suppose I could have closed the lid. My apologies. That was honestly just the color of the water. It had been flushed. I promise.}

And so we went on to look at the other thirty-nine or so houses on the list. We narrowed it down to four. Our number one pick being the brick house. Now, the brick house had been sitting empty and on the market for over two years. The little old lady who owned the brick house is in her nineties. She and her husband had purchased the home shortly after their close friends had "updated" it, back in the late fifties. And the little old lady and her husband, proudly, hadn't done a SINGLE THING to it, or so she claimed, since the day they moved in. And for the most part, I wholeheartedly believe her!

{master bath}

After all, why would they? Everything looked so good. The yard was beyond overgrown (multiple family members have told us there's no way we'll tame it without hiring a crew - we'll see). Creeping fig had taken over the back part of the house and was growing through the windows and into the house. Almost every window has massive rot and needs replacing. Several shutters have literally rotted and fallen off the house. The roof is over thirty years old. One ac unit is twenty-five years old, the other, thirty. The entire house needs to be replumbed. It also needs to be re-wired. (Both the plumbing and wiring are original.) The plaster walls are cracking and entire chunks have fallen off in a heap of dust and crumbles in several places. The hardwoods are in terrific shape for being under carpet for so long, but definitely need work (think - windows left open kind of water damage to the floors). The list goes on and on and on. 

{master bath-note the awesome sconces!}

And yet, despite all the work she needs, we were smitten. She sits on a beautiful street lined with old oaks. We just, well, we just fell hard. She had almost everything we'd listed on our "dream" list. And the potential...OH the potential!

{another angle of the master bath - again, note the overhead lights}

But her asking price...it was more than would be wise. And so we made an offer. Betty, the little old lady who owned the place, countered, still much higher than we were comfortable with. We made a final offer. It was our "best" and she countered back, still higher than we felt would be wise. 

{the lovely master bedroom}

At that point, we'd lost several days. The clock was ticking. A friend made a brilliant suggestion..."write her a letter." And so I did. I hand painted my initials on the finest paper I had and spent an entire day putting my heart on paper, four pages total. I told her all about our little family and what we are "about." I told her what was bringing us to the area and why we were smitten with her house. I assured her we would love her house well and that we would fill it with life, once again. I literally spilled my heart on that paper, boldly, too. In closing, I asked her to please consider our offer. I enclosed photos of our family and our home, as well as a few drawings the children had done, and I packaged it all and held that package to my heart in the FedEx parking lot while I prayed. At five minutes to closing, I rushed in and overnighted the package to Betty.

{yet another angle of the master}

We waited three days and could wait no longer. Turns out Betty had received our letter, but wasn't comfortable with our offer. 

{rockin awesome kitchen!}

So we walked and made an offer on our second pick which would've been a grand home, just not exactly what we'd had in mind. The back yard was tiny and the laundry was in the basement, a basement akin to the basement in Silence of the Lambs (a movie I wish I'd never seen!). I realize I sound like a spoiled brat and there are lots of bigger things to be concerned with - I would've seriously had to gather all my courage to go down there alone. Not only was it incredibly creepy, but there was also an additional entrance from the outside. It was just super scary. Like, SUPER scary. A coat of paint might have helped things. It was bad enough The Engineer was scheming to move the laundry upstairs.

{some rockin' low upper cabs...}

House number two wasn't officially on the market. We'd heard through the grapevine that the owners wanted to sell. At the time, they were using it for storage. And so we made our offer. They countered much higher than their original asking price and gave us a list of things they would not do (like making repairs). So we walked. We liked the house, but not that much. 

{so rockin' low, in fact, our coffee maker will not fit atop the counters}

I nearly burst into tears when our realtor called with the news about house number two. The Engineer and I had pretty much ruled out the other two choices. We liked them, but we didn't love them. And we wanted to buy something we loved. We hunted for rentals. No one will rent to a family with a great dane and a rotweiler mix. We were getting desperate. I wondered if The Engineer would go on alone.

Now, Betty had told her realtor, who told our realtor, that she very much wanted our family to have the house, but given her need for long term care, she felt it was too risky to agree to our offer. We felt it was too risky to go any higher, given the condition of the house. It was at this point that our realtor suggested we make one more offer, that we go a tad higher, take a little "risk" and ask Betty to take a little "risk" with us. 

{entry hall}

We did. And she did. And we came to an agreement. And y'all, in twenty days - did you hear me? TWENTY DAYS from the day we came to terms with Betty, we met at the lawyer's office in our finest and left with the key to the brick house in hand.

{living room}

We bee-lined for our new house, changed clothes hurriedly, and let the work begin! We ripped out all the carpet, except what was in the master and spent the rest of the evening pulling out carpet tacks/nails. I thoroughly sprayed the inside and outside with our beloved Demon WP. 

{dining room}

We swept the leaves and debris out of the house. We signed insurance papers and met with a plumber and locksmith. It was wonderfully exhausting!

{library/den}

And now here we are, nearly six months have passed. I didn't expect my emotions to be what they've been. At first I loved the house. It seemed perfect. And then I hated the house and just wanted to go "home," to our old house, and I was heartbroken that our old house still hadn't sold. I would look at pictures and cry. And our new house...well, there were just so many frustrating things, mostly about the kitchen. I was ungrateful. I was angry at the difficulty change had brought...things like the fact that our coffee maker won't fit on the kitchen counter because the upper cabinets are hung too low. Nor will our mixer fit. It's a juggling act or requires an extension cord because of the odd placement of the outlets. The oven has two temperatures: hot, hot, hot or off. Stuff that's not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things. It's just incredibly inconvenient on a daily basis.

{note the built-ins}

It was an ugly season. And a hard season. It seemed everyone we met would say, "Do you just love your new house?" And I'm just not good at faking. I tried not to sound like a brat, but I know I did. I'd say something like, "We are very thankful for the Lord's provision." Or, "I just really miss my old house. I know this one will grow on me." Or, "All I do is compare this house to our old house, which was to me, perfect. It was our "forever" house." I mean, seriously, it was bad ugly.

{heading upstairs...and note the attic fan! We LOOOOVE the attic fan!}

Back to our old home, there were a lot of "close calls." Several times it almost sold. At one point someone had put in an offer with the intent to chop it into apartments to rent. That broke my heart and I was so happy when that offer was rejected.

{guest/Little Man's bathroom-which is a tub only bathroom}

And then one day The Engineer got an email from a friend.

{Note the quirky little storage cabinet above the tub.}

This friend shared that he and his wife were thinking about making an offer on the house and did we have any thoughts? My heart leaped within me. Literally. I was so excited! I wrote a small novel sharing many of the reasons we so loved that house and how perfectly it had served our family.

{Little Man's bedroom. The first time I walked into this room I nearly had a heart attack. I thought the birds in the birdcage light fixture were real and had, ahem, expired.}

And guess what? They ended up buying it! I cannot tell you how happy that made me and the freedom I felt knowing a precious young couple would be moving in, making it theirs! That they would be making their own memories there and their children would be filling the house with life. We loved that house. I'll always love that house. And I am SO HAPPY someone so precious bought it. They are exactly what we'd prayed for. Thank You, Lord!

{The guest room, which has become the room for Little Bit's "rest time" and Sister's late night "read-a-thons."}

I really was dumbstruck by the effect knowing our old house sat empty had on my heart. I know we're just talking about houses, but man, this was personal! It's a big deal! It's where we do life. It's the place we seek shelter, both physically and emotionally. It's not just a house, it's a home. And that home was dear to us. Its walls hold so many memories...of bringing babies home from the hospital and coming home from the the hospital without babies, of telling The Engineer and then our families we were pregnant so many times! Of birthdays and anniversaries, of the hardest season yet of our marriage. That house holds the memories of my parents' last visit married and so many Christmases and Thanksgivings. Of tears and laughter and heartache and joy. The walls of that kitchen hold the memories of SO MANY dance parties. Dinners with friends. Late nights of talking and laughing and fighting and praying. Homes really are precious. They are a gift from the Lord.

{Another shot of the guest room. We are rockin' those blue minis.}

And so knowing sweet friends (who had actually eaten with us in the dining room of our old house!) were moving in and making it theirs - y'all, it lifted my heart. I am SO thankful!

{The girls's room.}

With that knowledge came a lightness I hadn't realized was missing. And now I am full on all about the brick house. My head is swimming with ideas. I'm rearranging often and always thinking and dreaming up a new scheme.

{The girls's bathroom.}

The Engineer and I have been doing some of that together, too. We're pretty sure we have a "long term" plan. Of course, before we can tackle anything "fun" we need to tend to the necessities, like a new roof, plumbing (our water is a brownish color - evidently that's very common for homes of this age in our area and is supposedly perfectly safe to drink. Suffice it to say, we're doing a lot of filtered water!), wiring, a new ac unit, etc., etc., etc.

{An upstairs closet...}

So basically, we are doing a lot of saving. And planning. And thinking. And dreaming. Because we are all about some Dave Ramsey and we will move forward on a cash only basis.

{Another upstairs closet...note the damage to the plaster. Plaster - ahhhh! Working with plaster will be a first for us. I've ripped it out, but never repaired any.}

And really, the timing couldn't be better because The Engineer has an extremely intense and difficult next few years at work. He's putting in long days and studying late into the night. Right now, there isn't time to invest in repairs and updates. At first this had me bummed.

{The "cellar."}

Now I am so thankful. Not only does that give us time to save, it's a nice season of rest from the pounding of nails and hauling of giant piles of debris. Plus, it's nice to live here and figure out what life in this new space looks like. 

{Nice, huh? Also in the "cellar."}

So here's to a new season in a new place. Here's to dreaming and planning and saving and discipline and patience as we wait to make those dreams a reality. Woop woop!

During the interim I'll be doing a little painting and a fair amount of yard work, but otherwise, saving our pennies and enjoying the business of living!