Sunday, June 8, 2014

sand storm

We got the house we wanted
to get,
yay! for all that.
Now the hard(er) part: we can't move in until August 1, but can't live here past June. So for the month of July, we will be living with my sister-in-law and her husband and their two kiddos, my nephews. They live in fancy La Jolla five minutes from the beach, so we aren't exactly slumming it. We'll be living a vacation, basically. I'm half terrified and half thrilled. I think these kinds of adventures in life are really good for a person. Shake things up. Get out of your comfort zone. I think it will be important for my kids, they'll bond with their cousins on a whole new level that includes supreme irritation, I'm sure, but that's family, that's important. Irritation is the sand in between the toe that binds, or something. Mr. Curry will be living mostly with his uncle, because there is only one teensy weency room for all of us to squeeze into, and Mr. Curry has very strict sleep needs, including the fact that he wakes at 5:10 or abouts every morning, an ungodly hour that you won't catch me waking up at unless there is an earthquake or fire or a three year old toddler named Mini-Kinny who wakes up with a start and says WHAT IS HAPPENING? which she did the other night. Nothing is HAPPENING, it's three in the freaking morning!!! Go back to bed! But no, she wanted a glass of water. Which I got. Then she had to pee, and I carry her to the bathroom and hold her tiny butt over the toilet while she pees, a nightly ritual which I cherish. I'm not kidding. I love it. I can't fully explain why, because it wakes me, and I'm exhausted, and sometimes I feel profoundly irritated having to wake up and do it, but the fact remains that every time I do it, I am filled with a loving devotion that is so tender I often find my eyes filling with tears. I love, love, love being a mommy.

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