Three weeks, in three minutes or less

Since I can't seem to manage real-time blogging these days, how 'bout I just recap why I can't seem to manage real-time blogging these days. Here's what's happened chez nous in the past three weeks:

• Nora acquired 5 new teeth (including the front two). This bullet on its own should explain why I haven't been blogging.
• I've started working on a book. Not my great American novel—sorry, you'll have to wait another year—but one I've been hired to write about natural skin care. Just you wait …
• We put our house on the market yesterday and are getting lots of showings. Yikes. 
• We're now officially in familiar territory, parenting-wise. At least according to timelines. Nora turned 19 months this month, which is the age Sidamo was when we adopted him. For some reason that threshold feels like an important one to me—maybe because I've always wondered whether typical toddler behaviors would frustrate me as much with her as they did with Sidamo. Verdict: uhh, yeah. 
• I turned 33 years this month. I'll address the age-related behaviors in another post.

I think that pretty much sums it up. I don't even think I have a single photo of the children to redeem this post, so if you keep reading after this one, I'll know you're really devoted.

Now hiring: Family Decision Maker

Greg and I complement each other in a lot of ways. My geometry skills prevent me from cutting a 90-degree angle; his arithmetic skills prevent him from calculating a tip. Each of us is equipped to compensate. I lose my temper; he has almost boundless patience and diplomacy. I like to cook … you know the rest.

Unfortunately, we both lack in decision-making abilities, which can at times lead to crippling stagnation. Therefore, I turn to you, my electronic friends and advisors, to make our decisions for us.

Thanks in advance. 

Here's the big one right now: We've been thinking about moving. Well, more than thinking about it: We've been looking at houses, obsessing over them, almost committing to them, and then second-guessing.

We love our house, and we love our neighborhood, but for several reasons we're thinking we should uproot and reroot in a different area of our city. To keep it simple, I'm going to outline our thinking in bullet points. (I actually do think in bullet points, so this isn't grossly oversimplified.)

Pros to staying where we are:

• We love our neighbors.
• The local moms' group is beyond amazing. I don't know how I'd find a plumber without them, let alone decide on a preschool. (It's a surprisingly influential list of 1,600+ moms who love to dish.)
  
• Our house is sweet and wonderful, and we've spent the past 5+ years tailoring it to our needs.
  
• We're comfortable. 
• Greg's commute isn't bad. 
• We're 1/2 block from a big park and lake, plus a library.
• We're 3 blocks from great shops, restaurants, and galleries.
• We have lots of friends in walking distance. 
• Have I mentioned how much we love our neighbors? One of them is an awesome massage therapist who practices from her home. Meaning, I can get a massage and stumble home, delirious.
• Moving would mean selling our home, which would mean showing our home, which would mean keeping our home show-ready. And we have two destructive kids (in case you're new here).
• For city living, we have a relatively low crime rate.
• There are lots of adoptive families in the neighborhood.
• We have a killer interest rate right now.
  

 Pros to moving:

• We could get more square footage.
• We could have both a dining room and a playroom.
• I could have an office that isn't just that unused space behind the fridge. Y'all know I work from home, right?
  
• It's possible, depending on where we move, that we could have a bigger yard. In other words: CHICKENS.
• If we did it soon, we could collect on that $6,500 move-up home-buyer credit.
  
• Most importantly, we could move to a more diverse area. Where we live now is about half Latino, 49% whitey, and then Sidamo. Well, not exactly; there are some other African Americans in our 'hood, but they're noteworthy. The neighborhoods we're considering are just about equally split between African Americans, Latinos, and Caucasians.
• If the kids qualify as "highly gifted" (duh), they'd be in a school that's much more appealing than the HG school in our neighborhood. On the flip side, if they don't qualify (stupid tests), the public schools are less desirable. (Another post will come, someday, on my big personal struggle with the gifted-program process, but for now I'm sticking to bullets.)

 So what do you say, blog readers? Should we stay, or should we go?
 

Places 4-year-olds should be banned

Modern design stores. Because if they aren't, they'll decide things like lime green rollerskates would look much better on the floor than on that table, but they won't have the strength to get them down without dropping them (since they're actually doorstops and are made of resin). And then when the rollerskate drops and breaks, the 4-year-old's mom will be forced to pay $100 for it. Seeing as how it's "art" and all.

So that's $100 out of the college fund. Actually, make it $120, because mama needs a bottle of wine.

Helicopter PJs

Sidamo's one and only request for Christmas was helicopter pajamas. I've been wanting to make PJs for a while, so this seemed like the perfect opportunity. I hunted down some fabric with helicopters on it (thanks, Etsy). Greg freehanded a helicopter out of felt, which I then mounted onto an Old Navy t-shirt (I know my limits).

The result? The happiest, helicopteriest of Christmas Eve dreams.