Homeless

This photo is a perfect capture of the majority of my past week. Unfortunately, after a full investigation, our new home is riddled with mold and therefore, unlivable for our standards.

We are currently staying 30 minutes south of our old neighborhood with my cousin who has generously opened his home to our family, and my days have consisted of multiple trips back and forth between towns in an attempt to keep Wito’s school and playdate schedule intact. My car and I have become quite close.

Newsflash. Not having a home is the pits. I miss my bed, I miss my routine, I miss my neighborhood and I miss not feeling completely reliant on others for a roof over my head.

Hopefully we will find a new and wonderful home very soon. Onward ho!

Life in List Form (Brought to you by my iPhone camera.)

1. The Whoorl household is illin’ this week. All three of us are drowning in Trader Joe’s tissues, although Wito seems to prefer using his sleeve/toys/sofa arm/remote control/pillow as a snot receptacle.

2. The fact that we all fell ill during Wito’s week off from preschool makes me want to cry, considering I was truly looking forward to the playdates we had scheduled for the week. For instance, tomorrow’s playdate will be held at my friend’s pizza parlor. Good friends, fun kids and ALL YOU CAN EAT FREE PIZZA. Do you realize how wonderful that 2-3 hours would have been for this here pregnant lady? DO YOU?

3. Speaking of being pregnant, I am 21 weeks as of last weekend. Halfway there, my friends, and about 2 photos to show for it. (The second one sure gets the shaft, don’t they?)  Here I am this morning in my (rapidly becoming too snug) Andrew Bird tee.

Interesting how I choose to take a photo of myself on the day that I feel like death. Revel in my natural beauty, folks! REVEL.

4. Many updates are currently going on at the house, and I promise to post some photos in the near future. It’s just that I’m more of a Before/After Photo kind of girl, opposed to a Check Out The Progress We Are Making Today gal. Although, there may or may not be a lovely man named Carlos painting our downstairs powder room navy as I type this.

5. Hell. While I’m randomly busting out my iPhone camera, here’s a shot of my favorite room in the house. Our upstairs loft, aptly named The Treehouse. I could sit here all day.

6. Finally, prepare for utter sweetness. We are big fans of The Sound of Music over here, and my nighttime duties usually consist of a four-song medley of sorts for Wito after D reads his bedtime story. (“Sixteen Going on Seventeen,” “Edelweiss,” “Doe Re Mi” and “My Favorite Things,” in case the suspense is absolutely killing you…)

Yesterday afternoon, Wito was feeling pretty crummy so he decided he wanted to sing “My Favorite Things” in hopes of feeling better. I think it may have helped a tiny bit. (Or maybe it was the ice cream.)

My Favorite Things from whoorl on Vimeo.

Sniff sniff

First day of preschool.

Wito had a bit of a meltdown, but the school has since called to let me know he is doing just fine and having a great time.

I’m still finding it hard to do much around here, though. I miss that boy.

(Lord, please let him enjoy himself and make friends and um, not wet his pants.)

(Speaking of wet pants, we’re making strides in the potty training department!)

Willful, indeed.

My third installment of our adventure in potty training land (read: hell) is up at Pull-Ups Central. Feel free to read about how Wito’s actions caused a potty training expert to use the phrase, “Oh, dear.” Very promising, that kid!

Mommy has a cold

Sarah: “I’m not feeling very well. Mommy has a cold.”

Wito: “I want a cold.”

Sarah: “No. Trust me, you don’t want a cold. Colds make you sick. You want a stuffed-up nose with boogers?”

Wito: “What? NO! I don’t want stuffed-up nose and boogers! I want a COLD. I don’t need boogers.”

Sarah: “So you want a cold, but with no stuffed-up nose and boogers. Huh.”

Wito: “YES! I want a cold! A CHERRY COLD.”

Sarah: “Wait. Do you mean a Cherry Icee?”

Wito: “Yes.”

Sarah: “Ah.”

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