You get what you get...

I was thinking.....about how I could take this opportunity to fill you all in on the state of things here at Chez Trace, Jeff, Ave & Gav.

About how, 2 weeks ago, Massachusetts was hit with an "unprecedented" and "record setting" rain storm that brought with it MAJOR flooding, road closings, water damage, detours, flooded basements, homes, etc...

About how, in the aftermath of said storm, we realized that the entire downstairs playroom/office carpet was SOPPING wet. And the carpet needed to come up ASAP to prevent potential mold and rid our house of that yucky mildew smell.  And how we thought to ourselves, "Well, let's look at the silver lining here; We've always wanted something different for this room, so let's turn this catastrophe into a great opportunity to (finally) revamp it to our liking." 

And how we went to Lowes for paint & primer and supplies, and Lumber Liquidators for (lots and lots and lots of boxes of) beautiful new Pergo flooring. And how we enlisted the help of approximately 18 various family members, neighbors, and friends for support in such a feat. And how....6 days of ripping up carpet, priming walls, painting walls, disinfecting the floors, laying the new floors.....6 FULL days of help from amazing friends & family....finally resulted in a gorgeous, (semi-finished) room with floors that were glossy. and new. and smelled like delicious, expensive wood floors. (you know, the kind you can see yourself in because they are so shiny. the kind that just beg you to replicate the infamous 'Risky Business' slide-across-the-floor-in-knee-socks scene, just because you can.)

They were beautiful.


And then, how that "unprecedented" storm came back yesterday. With a vengeance. It was angrier than last week. Nastier. Wetter, colder, faster.  Stormier. Just plain mean.

And with a husband away on business, I tried my best to lay sandbags outside our foundation to prevent these brand new, shiny floors from falling victim to Beast of a Storm, part deux.

"Tried" being the operative word in that statement.

Unfortunately, I failed.

And so now, I sit here typing this as good neighbors & friends have come back to our house help salvage what we can.  I hear my husband ripping up the floor boards that, 72 hours ago, he took so much meticulous pride in cutting & laying.

I hear sump-pumps being restored, wet-vacs sucking up water, and disheartened grunts and groans among grown men.  There's no two ways about this...it just plain sucks.


But...like I said at the beginning of this entry, I could tell you all about this....

OR, I could tell you something pretty freakin' adorable, and happy, and warm-&-fuzzy that happened amidst the chaos today.

As I sat defeated on the basement steps, sighing heavily while confirming my suspicions that water had in fact infiltrated once again.... My little girl put her arm around my waist.


"Momma? What's wrong?" she innocently asked.

"Nothing baby, Momma is just upset because we have more water in our floors."

"Momma? Can I tell you something?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Pinkalicious always says,  'You get what you Get, and you Don't get Upset.'  You always tell me this so I am reminding you now. Don't be upset Momma. It will be okay, I promise. Now can we PLEASE stop being upset, and go upstairs to make a Big-Top cupcake to surprise Daddy when he gets home tonight?!"  


My heart immediately became full and happy as I wrapped my arms around her for a good squeeze. 


"You are absolutely right, Aves," I said. "This is a pretty silly thing to be this upset about, huh?"

She nodded in agreement.

And then, we went upstairs to do this:

In conclusion, a MASSIVE thank-you goes out to my little girl, for reminding me today that sometimes, all you need is a little over-sized cupcake therapy to brighten an otherwise gloomy day.

:-)

Just another Avaism to brighten your day...

"Mommmmmmmmmmm!!! Come in here QUICK!"

(I frantically run from kitchen to living room to see what pressing issue warrants my immediate attention.)


I find her sitting on the couch, her face completely muffled in her shirt, making dramatic gagging noises.

"What's wrong?!"  I ask her.

Face still muffled in her shirt, she disgustingly points to her baby brother who is crawling on the floor nearby.

"It's Gav. His breath is TERRIBLE and it's making me gag. Will you please go brush his teeth?"

 I bring my nose to the little man's sagging diaper, and my suspicions are confirmed: The culprit of this nauseating smell is actually a poopy diaper, and not a rare case of infant halitosis.

"Honey, it's not his breath....it's his bum!"  I state, with a chuckle.

"Well ...can you go brush his bum then???"

Ava, on old age:

"Momma, I think I've finally realized why old people have to walk with those walkers."

"Really? And why is that?"


"Because it's a long, long walk for them to get to heaven."



...and with that, my heart melted. My little girl says the most amazing things sometimes...and it makes me so proud that her little mind and her little thoughts work in such remarkable, touching, BIG ways.

And who woulda thought....it figures.

Perhaps Alanis should have added this little anecdote to her infamous ditty-o-ironies in that 1995 hit song...

Jeff impulsively purchased a big-boy cell phone plan last week. (This, after 14 years of a "free" Radio Shack "employee" plan that was no longer making sense financially since he somehow kept going over the "generous" plan allotment of about 12 minutes per month with no free nights or weekends.)

I was very, very proud of him. Way to take the bull by the horns and do something completely impulsive for a change, babe!, I thought.

His weapon of choice? Why a brand spankin' new iPhone 3Gs, of course.  And just as immediately as he had signed away his first-born in a binding 2-year agreement with AT & T, he was in love.

iPhone love.

He sat for countless hours on the couch with her, whispering sweet nothings into her speaker. Caressing her soft, silky, touch-screen, app-filled curves with his fingertips. Singing to along with her. Sneaking out to the car with her at night for some alone time. Feeding her chocolate covered strawberries on a bearskin rug, in front of a roaring fireplace.(While elevator-inspired, saxophone renditions of early 90's Boyz II Men songs serenaded them.)

I was beginning to feel like a third wheel in my own house...Tres bizarre.

On day five of this love affair, he drove to work.

It was a Thursday.

And at lunchtime that day, he called me on the verge of tears a very manly breakdown.

Upper management had apparently called an "important" meeting that day. And to paraphrase, it went something like this:

"We know that a bunch of you have iPhones, however they just aren't secure enough for use at our company any more. Having said that, after today, we will be issuing you all...brand new BLACKBERRIES!"
(*this is the part where Jeff's heart stopped beating for a few minutes straight, and he went into a semi-permanent state of shock.)

And just as immediately and as intensely as he had fallen in love in the first place...he began a four-day (and very textbook, might I add,) journey through Kubler-Ross's Stages of Grief.

Stage 1: Denial. "This cannot f**king be happening right now! I mean, come ON! Are you SERIOUS?? I FINALLY cave and get a plan less than a WEEK ago-a plan that allowed me to be fully connected at all times at work, and at home- and now I can't even use the phone!? This is a joke, This is a sick freaking joke....I don't believe it."

Stage 2: Anger.  "This is BULLS**T! I am pissed. Seriously. I just spent a week learning and falling in love with the iPhone. I've downloaded all of my contacts. My apps. My music. My pictures. How do they expect me to go from the iPhone to THAT? It's like going from a Lexus to a Kia. Ridiculous, that's what this is. F**king ridiculousness..."

Stage 3: Bargaining. "Ok Trace...Fine. I get it- you are going to get the iPhone and I will one day be okay with that, but can I just spend the rest of the weekend with her? I promise, that's all I need. Just one more FULL day. Let me just use the ridiculously convenient touch-screen Chipotle App ONCE more to order myself a Carnitas burrito without EVER having to take my finger off the screen and/or speak to a live human being...Just ONE more time. Please. That's all I am asking..."

Stage 4: Depression. Well, folks-- this is where we are today. And where we were yesterday. And, come to think of it--the day before that, too.  He miraculously seemed to whiz right through stages 1-3, but we are at a standstill here at stage four. As I write this now, he sits sulking on the couch, staring down at the very unfamiliar (and not as sleek) scroll-ball based Blackberry. He detests it. His face is pinched and mean when he looks at it. Almost like he's mad at it. Resentful of everything that it lacks. The navigation bars and menus aren't as intuitive, and the lack of a touch-screen is something to be mourned. My heart aches for him, and I feel tremendously guilty that I have inherited the previous love of his life. (Was it wrong of me to adorn her in a stylish new pink and purple 'Speck' case today-- a far cry from the masculine black one that he had dressed her in for the first 4 days of her life?? Too soon....?)

Stage 5: Acceptance. I am hoping that we reach this place soon. VERY soon. He has been moping around the house like a 6-year old boy who lost his pet goldfish for 3 days now, and frankly, he's got to move on. Honey, if you are reading this, PLEASE pick yourself up by your bootstraps and truck on ahead.  The Blackberry isn't the worst thing in the world. At least it's FREE, right?! That's pretty huge. (which is also what she said.) It will help us trim some of the financial fat from our budget and you can still use her on the weekends, okay? Just keep telling yourself that it's not goodbye, it's "See ya soon"...



 And that, my friends, is way more ironic than ten thousand spoons when all ya need is a knife. Or, rain on your wedding day. (Which, I've always felt, falls far more appropriately under the category of "bad luck" than "irony," no? And while we're on topic, isn't wedding-day rain actually supposed to promote luck? I digress...)

The silver lining to all of this is?  Why, of course, that I have adopted one pretty cool little gadget! I went from a 2005 flip-phone to a George Jetson-worthy apparatus in under a week. And contrary to Jeff's beliefs, I am actually very excited about all the fun things I'll be able to do with her!  (So what if my only favorite "app" at the moment happens to be Ava's Zoo matching game?) I've only had her for a day. Give me some time. Allow us to get to know each other....and I'm sure that by the end of the week, I'll be just as head-over-heels gaga about this adorable little contraption as my hubby once was- in a lifetime a long, long time ago.

Send it Back, Dad!

While eating lunch at Uno's today, Jeff ordered a house salad with bleu cheese dressing.

A few minutes later, the salad arrived.

Ava, who was sitting next to her Dad, looked over at this salad, pointed, and declared:


"Dadda, you better send that salad back RIGHT now!"

"Why, what's wrong with it?" he asked her, puzzled.

"Well, I heard you say to the waitress that you wanted BLUE cheese. But this cheese it white. They definitely brought you the wrong one."

And instead of engaging her in a lengthy (and possibly stomach-turning) explanation of soft cheeses and what the "bleu" part really is....Jeff just looked at the salad, looked at her, and stated

"It's okay honey, I'll try this white cheese for today."


Gotta love life with a 4-year old  :-)

ONE-handed cruising?!? (Also known as, "My life is over soon")

 He's not yet 9 months old... but snapshots like this make me realize how impending this whole walking business really is. Yikes!

St. Patrick's Day photoshoot FAIL:

Fortunately, a few minutes later everyone ("everyone" = "Gav") was a little bit happier and we were able to snag at least a few decent photos to commemorate the 1/8th Irishness that exists inside of them today :-)

...And of course, a few obligatory shots of Aves on her way to school, completely St. Patrick's Day-ed out from head to toe. She was VERY impressed with this little get-up!

"Just a WEE bit Irish...socks"  How appropriate!



HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY 2010!!!!