Attachment

There is a bit of a "blankie" obsession going on in our house. Especially since "the Daddy" was gone for the last few weeks...
While I tried to sneak the beloved blanket in "for a bath," Landon realized it was missing and was very concerned.

Every couple of minutes we had to run out and check the laundry to make sure that blankie was all right.
Still in there.
And there he is with his wet blanket.

Impatience

This is what happens when we don't want to wait to have sunscreen rubbed in.

Zombie Landon.
At least he didn't get sunburned. :)

Farewell to our Favorites

Saturday was a von Trapp family style exit by the Zwahlen's while we sang "So long, Farewell, auf weidersehen..." to some of our favorite San Jose treasured eateries.

Hobee's, you will be missed mostly for this reason...

THE BEST I'VE EVER EATEN. But you will also be missed because of this...
The gratis fruit plate that is brought to the toddler the minute one sets their behind in a chair. No more fussy toddler. So kid friendly.
And also because of the Santa Cruz omelet. Garlic, tomatoes, artichokes, spinach and cheese...mmmm.
Rod was especially happy to arrive at Hobee's before it even opened because our little bundle of joy decided that 6:30am would be a great wake up time for Saturday.

Doing what Dad's do best.

That afternoon we hit the best bakery in Willow Glen.
Apple Turnover's are Rod's pastry of choice.
Landon was thrilled with his chocolate chip cookie.

He may or may not have had a second one in the car.
I enjoyed THE MOST AMAZING butter horn...among other things...
We'll miss the food and weather. Visalia is hitting the 90's this week...just in time for our arrival.

Flipping Out

9:00 a.m.
"I regret to inform you that the house you were interested in was leased over the weekend. Sorry."

This was how my Monday started. I'm blaming the lazy real estate agent for not getting our application in that we sent LAST TUESDAY. But I'm not really sure what happened. I don't think I've ever been turned down by a landlord and it felt worse than many near-engagement break-ups.

As with any break-up, hearing the news was followed by a breakdown of epic proportions--weeping, whaling, and nashing of teeth doesn't quite cut it. I had a pathetic moment. Real pathetic.

However, not completely unmerited. (There are NO OPTIONS in Visalia for rentals...there were a month ago when we were WAITING for confirmation about moving but now there are none. I was worried that all of our trips to visit family this summer would be cancelled because we would need to look for a house then move AND since we have to be out of our place at the end of June--landlord moving back in--we will be residing with a toddler in a hotel until who knows when)...Nightmare.

After getting a grip, I found myself staring face to face with 3:00. Does that happen to anyone else? You get some kind of bad news and then just reel out of control for what seems like 15 minutes but when you look at a clock you realize 8 hours has gone by?
My poor child. It dawns on me that he needs to get out of the house. Alright, I'll just take him to the park...

Well on our way to the park down the street, I did what any crazy person with a toddler at 4pm would do--I kept driving.
And driving.
And DRIVING.
Until we wound up in Santa Cruz.
And then I felt better.
Landon was happy to see the ocean. So was I.
We saw a few sea lions, and heard them barking.

Landon kept saying, "Puppy, scary" (pronounced SKAY-WEE) and wanted to get back in the stroller.
I kept thinking, "People, scary." There are some of the weirdest people you will ever see wandering around Santa Cruz. I had no idea.

The sunshine was lovely. I enjoyed the fresh air, and even some of the weirdos. Thank heavens for a change of scenery, even for just an hour, to gain a little greatly needed perspective.

Ode to Dora.

Even if it's bath time...
There will be no objections...
And you better believe that we are watching 6 inches from the TV screen.

My mental state...

I've been living in aneurysm territory lately. It happens to me every time I know we have to move but we haven't signed a lease on a new place yet. I turn into a literal lunatic and I think my brain might just explode. Ask my husband.

Oh yes, did you know? We're moving.

We've found a place, put in an application (LAST TUESDAY!), have an excellent rental history but we haven't heard back from the landlord. (The real estate agent's professional email moniker being "pismobeachbum....@---------.com" might have something to with it...). Which then makes scheduling movers, utilities, and all the other mind-numbing details associated with moving impossible. Compound that with having to be out of our current place by July 1 and you have my crazy, anxiety-ridden alter ego running the show.

So what would any slightly masochistic, I mean reasonable person do to try and feel better?

Why get a bikini wax, OF COURSE.

(Word to the wise: when you want to rip your hair out...don't literally rip your hair out...)

I should have just eaten some chocolate cake.

That's right I just said bikini wax on the blog...another indicator of where I'm operating from this week.

MADE Reunion + Emily's Graduation

Emily Graduated!!!! Last week I went to Modesto because Emily graduated and invited me to her graduation party. It happened to be a great MADE reunion with Austin there (we really missed our wonderful field producers Robbie and Mandy...it wasn't the same without them). She was as beautiful and confident as ever and is thrilled to be heading off to college.
Front page of the Modesto Bee.
Bam. 2 page yearbook spread. Kind of a big deal for a Senior in high school, right?
Oh yeah, back in a high school yearbook myself. (Random fact: Emily's high school, Davis High, is the same high school my husband, all his siblings and his parents graduated from. MTV didn't even know where I was living when they contacted me for the job...now that's a coincidence.)



Landon was a little bashful. (I have Emily's grad announcement and pic on my fridge and every time we walk past it he says points to it and says "emily" with a big bashful grin)
It was so great to catch up and I think "little Emily" and I will be friends for life. :)

To see our episode go here.
For extra scenes go here.

The Torture of Moving

A particularly lovely shot of me being alone in the Marriott parking lot trying to haul all of my crap into the hotel, alone, with a mini Dennis the Menace. Alone.*

I've had a "terrific" 2-day whirlwind trip to Visalia to try to find a place to live. Good news: We found a house. (Thanks to Rod scoping out the landscape for a few weeks on the hunch that we might be moving to said locale).

Before I do a victory dance, let's back up a bit.

Tuesday morning: After finding out at 9:00pm Monday night that we were moving, and that Rod started his job the next day at 8:00am, I decided that I would need to take a trip to Visalia to find a house. Also, a little less earth-shattering but worth mentioning-- my favorite trash TV show didn't record on my DVR so I had to watch the slow-loading ipad version to get my fix of hating the "Provo Belmont/Arlington scene" on for the day, (did you guys know a Provo all-star is on the Bachelorette this season bringing disgrace to every Mormon?...of course you did) while I packed up lunches etc for the 3 hour drive I had ahead of me. (ugh...how's that for a run-on sentence?)


Then I went in to wake up the boss.
Morning mom. Not a bad way to start the day, I have to say.

After getting all packed and ready, I loaded the buddy up for the drive. Neck pillow and all.
That is where the cuteness stops.

To avoid boring you with the details, I will just skip to the low points. (Mind you--3 hr car ride. No husband. Multiple housing appointments. No nap.) We arrive to meet up with Rod at his new facility around dinner time (first day as an administrator...boy, did that man have swagger in the nursing home) .

As we get out of the car, Landon decides to throw a tantrum that can only be described as body possession by an ungodly entity...for (not exaggerating) 30 solid minutes.

I didn't take my camera out for that.

Imagine: Rod's first day at a new building, wanting to make a nice "administrative" impression on all the staff, and his 18 month old is screaming bloody murder in the nursing home administrator office, lobby, and front lawn (it seriously sounded like we were torturing him). Then we try to move the "display" out to the car and he flails so much that I have to set him on the grass so that I don't drop him while he does "log rolls" across the grass and concrete path, kicking, screaming, and punching.

(a far cry from this precious angel...)
**He finally settled down when I think he had no more vocal chords or energy left.
That wasn't the low point...But I won't get into the rest because it will sound like I dislike my child, which is absolutely not the case.

Wednesday Morning: Ah, a new day. Landon was exhausted (because he didn't go to sleep in the hotel until 10:30) and slept through my morning shower and "ready" ritual. When he did wake up it was a much better experience...
Since Rod had to leave early, Landon was happy to "help" me load all the heavy suitcases and take a ride on the cart.
Not too sure about all the moving business...

There were cuteness moments caught on tape. 13 seconds worth watching.

*I know it sounds like Rod is a bad husband because I had to do everything *alone* but work has been unusually demanding lately. He's a great guy. Promise.
**Landon is the bomb. (as you can probably tell...) I think if I were 18 months, 3 hrs in the car (which probably seems like 3 weeks in 18 month old time) and having to live with me while I stress out would probably be enough to send me into a tantrum as well...

Target {in pictures}

This is what my shopping experience looks like.
Uh-oh.

After yelling every object he saw as loud as he could he found these...
Sweet!
Did his best to get the lid off.
Then begged me to do it. Of course, the only way to distract him from ingesting 800 cheese puffs was to ride the carousel.

Unfortunately he wasn't too thrilled that it was out of order.
Wait a minute...
Tow Trucks! Bulldozers!


Oh yeah.

Very into the steering wheel.
He calls this the "loader."


"Hey baby." He was checking out the three year old with the pig tails.
Time to go...
After he begged and begged to go back to the loaders I said, "Landon we're going to go home."

Major emotional blow. (apparently)
He was processing it.NO Mom!! I want to ride the loader.
But it's cool...I'll just eat my shoe lace.

And sing really loud.