Rainy Day at the Children's Museum

The Search

We don't have a place to live.

After spending a week searching for a new home in western Pennsylvania, we thought we had found a place. The condo was almost perfect. It was well maintained and big enough on the inside, though it only had a one-car garage and no backyard. But it was in our price range, so we put in an application.

And the owners picked us.

We were elated. And relieved. Our time away had not been in vain. All we had to do was read the contract and sign the lease.

Except, the lease was missing some important details. We asked for some additional information, some clarification, and for a few owner/tenant responsibilities to be outlined in writing. We didn't think we were asking too much, simply the assurance that they would keep the place safe and habitable (pest free) and give us permission to install a few child-safety latches.

Turns out, those are deal breakers. They insisted they didn't realize we had children, but that epiphany resulted in a $100 rent increase and the requirement that we pay to have the place professionally cleaned.

Once, when I was an RA at BYU, one of the apartments decided to pool their money and hire a cleaning service to prepare their dwelling for the monthly cleaning check. They didn't pass. My standards were much higher. They still are.

This back-and-forth negotiation went on for days. This morning Bryan and I prayed that we would make the correct choice, and that if this house wasn't right for us, we would know. I got absolutely no answer. This is highly unusual for me. I usually get something, even if it's just a nudge in the right direction, but no, it was radio silence.

Bryan called me from work this afternoon to tell me about the changed lease stipulations. I said that didn't sound like someone we wanted to work with, and I suddenly felt a strong confirmation that what I had said was true. Bryan called the realtor and we pulled our application. And we feel really good about it, which seems to fly in the face of logic, though it was the right choice.

But it also means we don't have a place to live.

Little Black Box

When you're a kid without cable, hotel TVs with Nickelodeon and the Disney Channel are one of the best things about traveling. It's even better when you all cram into the same small space to watch that magical little box.

The 4th in Philadelphia

We spent last week house hunting. Since we couldn't see any rentals on Independence Day, we drove to Philadelphia!

We enjoyed a free day at the National Museum of American Jewish History, including this cool play structure.

We also saw Irving Berlin's personal piano, which was awesome.

And we saw a little thing called the Liberty Bell. It was through the window, but I think that still counts.

We paid our respects at Ben Franklin's grave.

And we visited the Mint! It was really cool. We couldn't take any pictures inside, so you'll just have to trust me.

And we happened to drive past the under-construction Philadelphia Temple! That was a delightful surprise.

It was a fun day and felt like the perfect Fourth of July adventure!

Go Speed Racer

Just Like the Big Brothers

We love Lacey, our piano teacher. She is one of the people we will miss the most when we move. Phoebe had been looking forward to taking piano from her when the new school year started. When she realized that wouldn't be happening, she was distraught.

Then she had an idea. Couldn't she take just one lesson? One before we move to know if it's what she really wants to do? So she knows what it's like? She sold the idea pretty convincingly. Lacey agreed to do one lesson. The week of cub scout camp Phoebe took the boys' usual time slot since they were occupied shooting arrows and planning corny skits.

Phoebe loved it. She paid close attention and picked everything up quickly. Lacey was very encouraging about getting Phoebe into lessons once we move.

I guess soon we'll have three kids that need to practice piano everyday, and I'm really happy about that.

Hysteria

Peter has a strong sense of justice. This has the potential to be a great quality. Right now, however, it shows up when he doesn't want a consequence, so he uses his skills to attempt to lawyer us out of it. Tonight he tried to do this and I wouldn't play along. I stayed calm and every time he delved into his reasons that he was right and I was wrong I simply interrupted and reminded him he'd already told me these things.

After repeating this cycle several times he was sent to his room to calm down. A few minutes later I went in to give him a hug, thinking it would help with the calming process. As soon as I walked in, he launched into his familiar rhetoric. I stopped him and said, "No, I'm just here for a hug. I'm not going to talk to you until you've stopped being hysterical."

"Well!" he said as he angrily threw his hands into the air, "that means you won't talk to me for thirty years!"

If that number is true for everyone: good news! I only have four more years until I'm done with my own hysteria!

On a happier note, he did finally calm down and very rationally explained why he'd gotten the consequence and agreed that it was deserved.

The Wild Things

Another Excused Absence

Every once in a while we spend a whole day adventuring and I fall asleep holding an overtired two-year-old before I get a chance to post.

And that's okay.

My Boys Went to a Whole Week of Cub Scout Camp and All I Got Was This Picture