I'm behind

Falling behind. This seems to be the theme of my life right now. I seriously don't think I've ever felt so busy in my entire life.

I like to think I have good reason, but at the end of the day, I still just feel like I can't keep up with myself.

Most of the stuff keeping us busy is good...

The kitchen is almost done. After nearly seven weeks of cooking and eating in our living room and more restaurant food (and the associated calories) than I care to remember, we are thisclose to being able to cook a meal and sit down at an actual table to eat it. At one point last week, when things had slowed down a bit as we waited for some bits and pieces to come in so the contractors could keep working, we practically begged the poor man running the show to install our sink and faucet before the weekend. It sounds minor, but even once we could cook, not being able to rinse anything off pretty much ended our hopes of eating at home. As we said to him, we're not proud, demanding people. We just want to cook an egg. Is that so wrong?!

Drama aside, I am seriously happy with how the whole kitchen turned out. I'm not sure how people manage the details of building an entire house, though, as it felt like a second full-time job at times. We spent a fair amount of money to make these improvements, but we did wait 10 years to do it and it's made me fall in love with my house. I'm seriously convinced I will never leave. I now have a nice kitchen and a finished basement for all the monster truck clutter. If a certain family would get on the stick and move their stuff to a certain address, I could be persuaded to live the rest of my days in this very spot.

The even bigger news of the last month or so is that the paperwork for Baby Max (which has become his full name to practically every person I know) is moving along nicely. I did have a moment last week in which I was CONVINCED he was literally on his way home, but alas, it would appear that paperwork is done in a completely different order than it was in 2005 when Sam came home, and Max's arrival is still most likely a few weeks away. That doesn't stop me from harboring hope that his I600 approval somehow managed to slip by me and that he just needs a quick visa interview and plane ticket to be on his way to where he belongs.

If he were to arrive this week, however, he might have second thoughts and ask to go back from whence he came. Our house still looks like the construction zone it's been for weeks and you would have no idea that Rob and I have invested considerable time and conversation in the creation of rooms for both of our children by looking at the place. (For any editor friends reading, my apologies for <<<< that <<<< ridiculously long sentence.)

Thanks to our dear friends Ted and Kim, we have made serious progress in the baby gear department and have gotten one room upstairs emptied out so that we can start the process of actually making space for an 18 lb. child to sleep. When Ted arrived to help Rob move the queen-sized bed out of the guest room so that we could move my office in there, he regaled us with his own brand of logic and swiftly convinced us that all the monkeying around with the rooms upstairs was unnecessary. (We'd planned to move my office to the guest room; Sam to my office and Max into Sam's room.) Our plans were perfectly sensible until Ted stood in the upstairs landing and basically called us on our obvious lack of spatial relations skills, thereby demonstrating the complete ridiculousness of moving an extra room. So, my office stays put. We'll get a daybed for my dad to sleep in when he visits and Sam will move into a new "big boy" room while Max gets the nursery.

This move is not happening a minute too soon for Sam's taste. He informed me that there is a crack in the wall beneath his current bedroom window and that he just couldn't sleep there anymore. He led me by the hand to show me the offensive flaw, and pointed to a minuscule nail head pop. Hey, we all rationalize in our own ways.

Other tidbits from the last month:

* We will either boycott Ikea for life for their lack of supply of any single suite of furniture with which to decorate Sam's room... Or we will cave and realize that despite how ticked off we are right now, the Heimdal and Hemnes furniture designs are still the best deal around when it comes to kid furniture. Seriously. Rob despises having to go to Ikea, yet we've been there three times in seven days and have nothing but a random set of twin bed slats to show for it.

* Franklin is officially the most neurotic dog on the planet. We've always known he was easily spooked. I also quickly realized that I could not leave the house during construction lest he completely freak out at every random person and tool that darkened our doorstep. Five weeks into the process, the poor guy had had enough and had what I have now learned was a cluster seizure (five seizures in 15 min.) He was given a Xanax prescription to get him through the duration of the project and will be transitioned to another, milder anti-anxiety drug in order to prevent another episode when Baby Max arrives. Something tells me he will be the least excited of anyone in our house at a new child joining our family.

* Sam is still making great progress on the caffeine solution we started and got a glowing pre-K report from his teacher. He still has issues with episodes of silliness at school, but his handwriting is downright legible now and he is actually reading words to us without prompting. He's also turned out to be a stunningly talented Wii bowler and boxer. My hopes of him getting a college scholarship have shifted thusly. I'm sure that by the time he needs to enter university, someone will have recognized the talent he has and will bankroll his Ivy League education solely based on his ability to throw a Wii Turkey.