We are Homeowners!

After a few mishaps (like the sellers not showing up to closing and being nearly-homeless for a week before we tracked them down), we have finally closed and moved into our new home. A few surprises in plumbing and electric that our inspector somehow missed, but our wonderful plumber/handyman has us all sorted out. Here are some pictures:

If you would like our new address, drop me an email,

or post a comment and I'll send it to you.

My Really Crappy Day

Yesterday was a Horrible Terrible No Good Very Bad Day. My wallet was stolen, and some lowlife had a shopping spree ($2000+) while I was at work. We cancelled our credit cards (we only have two) and my ATM card, and the banks are sorting it all out, so we aren't on the hook for the $800 he spent on sneakers, the $400 in gift cards he bought at wegmans, and the $500 he spent on video games, etc etc etc. I only had about $20 in cash . . . . but I had 8 movie theatre vouchers and all my "valued customer" cards for all my favorite stores -- I was only one punch away from a free haircut. All our insurance cards, AAA. . . And my special coupon for 10% off all my kitchen appliances at Lowes. (Since we're supposed to close on our new house in two weeks, this coupon was especially valuable - the house comes without kitchen appliances.)

And, of course, my driver's license. But wait, here's the extra kick in the teeth -- last week when I was reading through our mortgage papers, I learned that the Patriot Act requires the paperwork people to verify our identity at the closing day by viewing either a drivers' license or passport (happily I have my passport!), and my social security card. The paperwork was very clear -- If I forget and show up to closing without my social security card, the closing will be postponed. So, of course, I dug out my social security card, and tucked it into my wallet, so there would be no way for me to forget it on closing day in two weeks. AAAAGGGGGHHH!

I spent the afternoon on the phone with credit card companies and banks, then meeting with the police, then talking with hospital security (my wallet was stolen from the parking lot at work, where it fell out of my purse, unnoticed, as I got out of my car in the morning), and then downtown at the social security office. The gave me a receipt stating that I should receive my new card in "7 to 10 business days" -- which means if there are NO screw ups or delays, it will arrive by Aug 6th -- two days before closing date. They won't issue me a new SS # -- which I requested for fear of identity theft since the thief has my name, address, and SS#. They said that won't give me a new number until AFTER I've been a victim of identity theft. Meanwhile, I'm instructed to "watch my credit report." So called all the credit reporting agencies and had the put Fraud Alerts on my files.

The driver's license I can replace on-line -- but need a valid credit card to pay the replacement fee. I don't have one of those right now, since I cancelled both of ours. ARGH! Matt's Mom kindly put it on her credit card. We were able to make it over to my bank before they closed, and they were kind enough to give me some cash straight out of my account (no ATM card) so that I could buy groceries and gas for the car this weekend. Of course, I can't drive the car any where because I don't have a license.

And all this when Matthew is in his last 24 hours before his Board Exams. UGH! Would it make me a bad person if I wished this lowlife a nasty case of necrotizing fasciitis?

On the upside -- Pittsford Wegmans was one of the many stores where he managed to shop in the 3.5 hours the card was active (bought a bunch of gift cards for other stores). I spoke with the head of wegmans security who was awesome -- I gave him the exact time and $ amount of the fraudulent charge, and he searched through register receipts until he found it -- then cross referenced it with the security cameras, and found a nice clear photo of the guy to share with the police. When last we spoke, he was searching through parking lot footage to try and get a make/model/color on the guy's car for the police as well. Whether anyone will be able to ID him from the photo is a whole other matter . . .

I feel so angry.

I feel violated.

I hate this.

Story Time

The other morning, I stumbled bleary eyed from my bed to brush my teeth and wash my face. As I returned to my bedroom to begin dressing for the day, Malcolm rushed in (naked as the day he was born) to give me a huge hug, and tell me, "Mommy I so very love you. You're the best."

Today is going to be a good day, I thought.

Malcolm spent the next few minutes playing with the dogs, my alarm clock, Matthew's pillow, our down comforter, and then sprawled across the entire king size bed to declare, "Look at me! I'm stealing your Zzz's!"

Yes, indeed, I thought, he most definitely is. I fixed him with my sternest Mommy Glare (ruined by my poorly camouflaged giggle) and told him "Go. Get. Dressed."

He scampered off to his room, while I took my own advice. Khakis, I think, and reached into my closet. As I buttoned my most comfortable pair of pants, Malcolm ran back in wearing dark blue jeans, but as yet lacking the rest of the accouterment required for preschool attendance (like something to cover his bellybutton).

"Mommy! We're notted!" he declared with delight, then ran back to his room.

. . . ? . . . I thought, and reached for my red polo shirt. As I pulled it over my head, Malcolm returned in a blaze of exuberance.

"We're notted!" he squealed in delight, hugged me and ran back to his room.

. . . . ? ? ? . . . Oh well, at least he'd added a green t-shirt to his outfit, and the chances of making it to preschool on time were looking up.

As I pulled a brush through my hair, Malcolm reappeared. His smile of delight crumpled as he stared intently at my feet.

"Mommy!" he said, with disgust and disappointment thick in his voice. "I have a shirt and you have a shirt. And the two of us have pants. But you don't have socks on and I do!"

I gazed bewilderedly from my bare toes to his sock clad feet, and thought I better skip the decaf this morning. If I make myself a triple espresso, this might start to make sense.

Malcolm sighed, gathering his patience with heroic effort. "Mommy," he carefully explained, "You need to put on your socks. Right now I am winning. And I don't want to be winning. I wanted to be notted."

Notted? Notted? . . . . . !!!!

"Knotted?" I asked Malcolm.

"Yes, Mommy! I want the two of us to be knotted!"

He has got to be the cutest thing, ever, I thought. "Sweetheart, do you mean you want us to be tied?"

"Of course, Mommy! Put your socks on, so we can be tied!"

What else could I do? I put on my socks.

Picture Tuesday

My, My . . . How You've Grown

I had hoped to post some clever April Fool's ruse . . . but sadly my creative juices don't seem to be flowing. Instead, I bring you this lovely look back in time . . . . A host of Malcolm pictures from various Aprils over the years . . .

April 2007

April 2008

April 2009

April 2010

April 2011

The Excellent Art of Saying "Yes"

As we know from excellent developmental theorists, the toddler stage (1 to 3 years) is about learning to control one's own body. The pre-schooler stage (3 to 5 years) turns more outward, to a desire to control the environment and the people around you. This is where so many parents have to learn the lesson: Pick your battles.

Matthew and I decided early on that we did not want to spend Malcolm's childhood in control battles with him. Nor did we wish to raise a spoiled wee heathen without limits. So, we decided as parents what expectations of behavior were mandatory (safety, respect, courtesy), and the rest became negotiable.

But only to a certain extent. While proper nutrition is not a hill I'm willing to die on, I do think that chocolate milk, ice cream, french fries and cake all in one day is something that really only happens when he spends the weekend at Grandma's house. So, what is a mother to do when faced with her sweet preschooler's request . . . .

This is how the conversation could have gone:

Malcolm: "Mommy, can I have a cookie, please?" (Notice the excellent use of the mandatory virtue of courtesy!)

Mommy: "No, sweetie. You've already had pizza and chocolate milk, and I know you had cake at school today. That is too much junk food, and I don't want you to get a tummy ache."

Of course, all he would have heard was:

Mommy: "No, sweetie . . . ." then the pouting would take over, and the sulking reign supreme.

So, instead, I used my wily Mommy charms, and the conversation actually went like this:

Malcolm: "Mommy, can I have a cookie, please?"

Mommy: "Sure! That sounds yummy! I love cookies. We're going to Wegmans tomorrow after school, should we get one then?"

Malcolm: "Oh, yes! Thank you, Mommy."

Since he heard "yes" he kept on listening. In fact, I've found that if I respond to any request he makes with "Yes" I can then add on whatever I want, and he's generally agreeable. (Interestingly, the opposite is also true. If tell him "no" it doesn't matter what comes next, he's done listening.)

Here are some of my other favorite "Yes" answers that have come in handy lately:

Malcolm: Mommy, can I drive the car?

Mommy: Yes! When you are 16 years old, then it will be your turn.

Malcolm: When I grow up big and am 16? Okay!

Malcolm: Mom, I want to sit on your lap and play computer with you.

Mommy: Okay, I'm playing "Blog post." Want to help?

Malcolm: No, Mom, I want to play Sushi Cat.

Mommy: Okay. We'll play that next!

(speaking of which, I have to go . . . . I owe him a game of Sushi Cat)

Ayyam'i'Ha 2011

Happy Ayyam'i'Ha ("Days of Joy")! This is a special celebration in the Baha'i Faith, a time for service to others as well as fun parties and exchange of gifts. Ayyam'i'Ha stars Feb 26th, and goes until March 1st.

To celebrate this year, we made new decorations (garlands of yarn and beads), and hung our "pockets" -- banners that hang on the wall and hold small gifts for each other. I made these a few years back, my own design. There is a fifth pocket (for leap years) that folds under and snaps for hide-away on non-leap-years.

We also enjoyed a trip to an Amerk's hockey game (Malcolm's first time going to a game!). This was a gift from my brother, Darin, and his girlfriend, Pat (who we absolutely adore!!) Malcolm loved the hockey game, and has asked several times to go back. These requests seem to have absolutely nothing to do with hockey and sound like this: "Mom, remember when we went to the place with hot dogs and chicken fingers and french fries and sugar juice and ice cream? Let's do that again some time!" Or, "Dad, can we go to the place with the balloon animal clown lady again? That was really fun!" And "I miss the Really Big Moose! Can we go play at his house

again?"

We wrapped up Ayyam'i'Ha with a party at Malcolm's preschool. Sadly, Matthew had to work, but Malcolm's B-Ma (birthmom) was able to join in, and fun was had by all. The party included story time and a chat about "what makes us feel joyful," followed by a craft, a pinata and a snack time.