solid!

A great deal has happened since last we spoke, o several readers of this blog. In serious news, my family has recently experienced a major loss in the passing of an amazing man and a wonderful great-uncle. He will truly be missed.

On to lighter fare, in keeping with the remainder of this blarg's content: the first thing that has happened is that I suck, as I can't seem to ever update, so each post become more and more of a gargantuan undertaking.

Oh yeah, and also, we closed on our new house, moved into said new house (we even decided to bring Rowan and the kittens along), cleaned the bejezus out of our old place, painted the tar and feathers out of our new place (with a lot of help from some grandmas, as evidenced below), took a mini-vacation, continued to work full-time (me), started teacher orientation for a new PhD (Mercer), kept on keeping on, did a lot of pukin' and shriekin', continuously threatened to crawl off the bed, and learned to sit upright without toppling within two minutes (Also Mercer). Okay, j/k, that last one was Ro.

Along with pretty much everything . . . ever, closing on a house proved a tad bit more difficult than I had imagined. I figured we'd just sashay in, sign on the dotted line, and leave the proud owners of a Greensboro-based chunk o land. Sadly, the good people at Bank of America decided to sit on our appraisal until 36 hours before we were scheduled to close and then make it very difficult to get a loan. But very long story abbreviated, we were still able to do some sashaying. Afterwards, we ended up grabbing takeout from a new Caribbean place next door to the attorney's office. They hooked us up with some lovely champagne cola. Mercer got goat, but I didn't. I don't do goat on account of Andi doesn't do goat, and I feel her taste is impeccable. Hmmm, but where was I going with this?

Ah yes, so. Before closing, which was on a Monday, the house's kind former owner allowed us to take possession. My mama and T came down from Farmville to assist with the effort, and Mercer's mom came and stayed through to the bitter end! She was a champ. Mercer & I had to make some snappy, 7am-in-Home-Despot style decisions, and we ended up with a lot of green. The study's kinda asparagus-colored, and the kitchen is chartreuse, in honor of Alyssa.
However, we now need to paint the cabinets something fierce. I am enjoying my new to-do lists, which are nothing like my old ones. A year and a half ago, my to-do list might've looked something like this:
1) Finish 30-page paper on the sociopolitical implications of the legacy of eugenics on the sexuality of disabled populations.
2) Drink another whiskey ginger.
Now my to-do list includes such items as:
1) Paint the cabinets.
2) Seal the tile grout in the bathroom.
3) Try to squeeze in time to brush my teeth on occasion.

Another major development in our lives vis a vis Rowan's life:
Yup. The introduction of solid food. I know, I know, mama's milk is best, and you're supposed to wait until a kid's at least 6 months, if not 9, to start on solids. But he seemed constantly hungry! And no matter what I seemed to be eating, he wanted some too! His reaction to the rice cereal has been lukewarm . . . lots of raspberries and making of the toothless old man face.
We also gave him some smushed-up banana the other night, which seemed to incite simultaneous disgust and amazement (maybe he takes after Auntie Jane in that regard). However, he looooooves dill pickles and can really go to town on Korean melon. Wow, I sound like the worst mom ever. Not only did I introduce solids wayyyy too soon, I also have foregone the "Wait several weeks to a month between introducing new foods in order to gauge potential allergic reactions; introduce only very mild, bland, and extremely watery veggies after rice cereal" figments of baby-raising wisdom. I thought I'd be pretty guarded when it came to introducing new foods, but having a sixteen-pound ball of wiggling, shrieking, spastically-moving baby grasping at whatever fare I happen to be savoring has changed that notion pretty daggone quick. And whatever: it's not like he eats 'em, he just pulls a vampire baby and sucks the juice out of 'em. Plus, how can you say no to a face like this?
Up next: vacation, all I ever wanted? The S-Bs rock Hot Springs/Asheville, NoCacks.