To move or not to move?

How ironic life can be. I had all but given up hope on finding a new house. We can't seem to get financing because of our bankruptcy last year. One mortgage company said to try again in May. Now we haven't actually tried again, but the loan officer called today to see if we were still interested. Just when I had resolved myself to living in this old house and climbing these old stairs (it's not nearly as painful now that I'm not pregnant), something comes along to give me renewed hope. Or does it? Spring is here. We have been planting flowers, like we do every year, but this year our work seems to be paying off. All of the previously planted bulbs and shrubs and such are growing and blooming. Our front yard looks wonderful. R put in a new front path with pave stones that really bring it all together. We bought patio furniture for the back deck and a play gym for the babies. Plus that really big and doesn't fit anywhere trampoline for the teenagers. I thought this had to be home for a while. And R was talking about finding land to build an Earthship in about three years.

So what is the Universe saying?

I guess we can try to get financing for a new house. All they can do is say no. And we should try to refinance the house we are in if we have to stay here. It might be good to see if either of those things could happen.

And, with teenage girl's horrendous attitude, maybe a move is in order. Maybe that would give her a new start and the opportunity to meet people who might be less influential on her. Right.

And the chaos continues in my house of babies...

Babies and teenagers, crying for attention

Still trying to find time to write. Still trying to figure out how to balance taking care of two babies. R has been a big help with Babygirl, keeping her entertained for most of the day. He did take two weeks off from work, which was an enormous help, but now he has returned to his evening shifts and I am left with two tiny tots and one disgruntled teenager who regularly reminds me how much she hates me and how I ruined her life. This weekend we are planning a birthday BBQ for said teenager at our house. We bought her a trampoline because she decided our house wasn't cool enough to have her friends over. Now it might be okay. If I could just keep my other "twelve" children out of her way. How two babies came to equal twelve, I'm not sure, although sometimes it feels like I have twelve crying infants at hand. I'm still trying to figure out just how many teenagers will be attending this shindig. My sweet young lady merely shrugs her shoulders when asked and mumbles "It's not like I matter." I'd say she matters a great deal. I'd like to think she knows that, but I guess I have to settle with the little sweet nothings like "I hate you."

And Babyboy is crying again. Didn't I just feed him? Since I haven't yet mastered the fine art of breastfeeding and typing one-handed, I'd better get to it.

Long time gone

It certainly has been a while...

In the interim, I finished a long and difficult pregnancy and had a beautiful baby boy at 9 lbs. and 6 oz. The labor was intense and traumatic, but everything worked out and both baby and I are recovering well.

I'm trying to establish some sort of routine in this house of chaos, this house of babies and unhappy teenagers.

Baby Girl is adjusting to Baby Boy quite nicely. She gives him kisses, but will try to poke him in the eye whenever she can. She isn't showing much jealousy. I try to hold her just as much and the result is two babies on my lap.

Haven't had too many visitors yet. Isn't it funny how people ask if I still paint. What do they think? Really. I paint in my dreams and fantasies. I paint a happy, normal life where relationships are based on mutual respect, and babies sleep through the night, and my teenagers don't hate me.