The drudgery of the “to-do list” continued again today. We hit Macy’s, Best Buy, Target, Petco and Wal-Mart. We are probably 90% finished with the list. Tomorrow is a big day. Besides it being Halloween, we have to pick up Helmut’s visa at the consulate and pick up the rental car at the airport. Tomorrow we are selling our car at CarMax. It makes me a little sad in a way. Besides its undying dependability, sheer comfort and being incredibly easy to drive, we have had a lot of fun times in that car. That car drove us all the way to Utah and back as well as to countless school and sporting activities.
I suppose I am getting a little sullen and apprehensive about the move. I went to the scrapbook store today to get some things for my Christmas card and I actually felt a little sad. Trust me; this scrapbook store is nothing to be getting sad over. I guess it is just the fact that we are to the point of…this is our last time to do this, that and the other.
My biggest stress right now is the move day (Wednesday). Don’t get me wrong, I am so lucky and grateful that Shell is paying for a crew to do a full-service move. Thinking about the logistics of it all is what is keeping me up at night. It is going to be so hard to make sure everything goes to the right place. We have some things staying in the house, some things going to The Netherlands in an air shipment, some things going to The Netherlands on a surface shipment and the things we will pack in our luggage to take on the flight over. It will be a modern day miracle if something major doesn’t end up in the wrong place. Ugh…I have to go practice some avoidance via the DVR and sleep!
Long time no blog…I have been up to my ears in things to do before we go, plus I have been very busy ignoring those very things.
Helmut and I have hit the mall, target and other stores to procure the goods we need before the move. The biggest problem with these shopping trips is that as well as finding the things we needed on our list, we see a world of other things we may need as well. Needless to say we will be loading up our full 40-foot container.
We still have not received a phone call from the Houston Dutch Consulate to say that our visa has arrived back from Miami. Technically we don’t have to have the visa until Friday afternoon, but I would appreciate it earlier for my peace of mind.
This week begins the deluge of tasks and small details that must be handled before we go. We have to get our Odyssey sold and our rental car picked up. We have to get all our stuff packed up with the movers and well as pack our own suitcases. We have to get the boys all withdrawn from school. We still have to change all our billing addresses to our new P.O. Box address. Ugh…I am not ready for this!
My parents and Matt and Maria and Lucas came down for the weekend. The men folk put up crown molding in our master bedroom (evidentially the one project Helmut could not stand to leave undone). It still needs to be painted, but looks great. Aside from the home improvement project, we had a fun weekend. We hung out around the house and went out to eat for just about every meal. We even hit the Berry Hill Taco Shop two nights in a row. They are good sports for coming down for the weekend on such short notice. I will miss having them so close by when we are in Holland. Saturday night we made a token drop by of the church Halloween party. Sam and Lucas had a fun time playing with the balloons. Helmut and Josh had an even better time running around with their friends. I have very fond memories of running around the school carnivals with my friends. Good times.
Enough rambling for one day…enjoy the picture of Samantha as The Dancing Barbie Princess named “Genevieve.”
Let the preparations begin! Helmut, Sam and I drove downtown this morning to drop off his passport at the Honorary Dutch Consulate. It was a small office atop the Compass Bank. We were sandwiched in line between the Iranian family and South African gentlemen trying to get their visas as well. By the look of the stack of the Iranian family’s paperwork, it is more difficult to get a visa if you are from Iran. The consulate will send Helmut's passport onto Miami to have the visa put in. The nice Dutch lady at the window assured us it would be back to us by Friday.
We also went down to Sam’s Club and bought the boys’ new mattresses. When we got to the parking lot, we realized two mattresses and two box springs will not fit into the back of a Ford Ranger. Helmut and Sam drove one set home while I hung out on the sidewalk with the other set.
All in all, there is nothing too exciting to report here. We are slowly making our way down our to-do list.
I am exhausted. I have spent all day cleaning this house. Helmut comes home tomorrow and he has pretty high clean house standards. Part of me has resented scurrying around the house all day to clean up for a man. The other part of me realized I couldn’t really move without giving the house a good deep cleaning, so I am killing two birds with one stone. The part of house cleaning I hate is what I call the “iceberg factor.” You get started and realized you could only see 35% of the dirt and the other 65% was lurking down below. As a result, it always takes longer than you thought it would. The upstairs is done and I am hoping to tackle the downstairs this evening and tomorrow.
I got a call from Little Helmut at school today. He had tried me on my cell (because my landline is still not working…going on day four), but couldn’t get a hold of me. He called Sarah and Big Daddy in an effort to reach me. Of course I was thinking the worst. The first thing he said was, “I am not in trouble. I am not in trouble.” He had gotten a 100 on his Science Unit test and won the privilege of bringing home the class pet for the weekend. He needed a ride home from school, because of course you can’t bring the class pet home on the bus. Meet Gladys, the class rat.
I am hoping the weekend of pet sitting goes off without a hitch. When I was in elementary school my brother Matt got a turn bringing home the class gerbil. Somehow the gerbil got loose and we spent a good portion of the afternoon looking for it. Sadly, we found it by way of the deadly-to-gerbils rocking chair. I don’t remember any blood and guts, but I remember a dead gerbil. I will have to ask Matt how that Monday at school went for him.
Happy Birthday Carrie! I am so disappointed you aren’t in town to give this special day its proper celebration. This working thing is really getting in the way of my good times! Hope you have a great day. Thanks for being such a good friend.
As you may have noticed, I did not post to my blog yesterday. I had nothing to report and hoped for something more interesting to share today. Alas, no such luck. However, I now know that Mr. Box, as my 6th grade Math teacher, taught me a very valuable lesson. It has all become crystal clear. You really do use Math in your everyday life.
0 X 2 = 0
Doing absolutely nothing interesting for two whole days still equals absolutely not one stickin’ thing interesting…
Just as a side note, I did find out this morning that Helmut changed his flight to come home early and will be arriving back in Houston on Saturday afternoon!
Josh’s football game this morning went great. We beat a team ranked above us and to top it off, it was their homecoming!
Josh is off to a friend’s house and Sam is spending the night with Big Momma and Big Daddy tonight. Helmut is here, and very depressed at the prospect of hanging out with his mom all evening.
Sam and I went to the Pumpkin Patch today. It felt a bit strange to be there without the boys, but they are getting too old for things like that. A “cold” front moved through last night, so she and I dressed up in our autumn attire and pretended we weren’t too hot. We were only at the patch for about 15 minutes, but that was plenty of time to pick out the perfect pumpkin and snap a few photos.
Over the last two days, it has really hit me how quickly we will be leaving, and how much I still have left to do. I am making good headway on my list. I called Dr. Lu and got an appointment to get on some cholesterol medication (so my kids can stop asking me if I am going to die). I called our insurance agent and made all the changes for our move. I called the boys’ schools about their withdrawal date. I let Sam’s preschool know when she would be leaving. The list goes on and on…
Helmut is in Aberdeen today and will travel back to London for his last week there before returning home. We may even get him home as early as next Friday. We are ready to have a Dad again.
My day was boring but productive. I got the whole house picked up at the same time and got the laundry done. I even got the laundry all put away (that has been a challange for me in the past). I even returned some things at the mall. We topped the day off with football practice and Boy Scouts. All in all a boring day, but such is my life...
A few days ago, I made lunch for Helmut and Samantha and asked Helmut (who, by the way, is two months away from being 12) to rinse their dishes and load them into the dishwasher when they were done. This is what I found when I came back downstairs. I guess when you want something done right...
In the past, Helmut has rarely (if ever) read my blog and I got the feeling he found the whole "blog craze" rather silly. Now that he is living half-way around the world and feeling quite lonely, he seems to have changed his mind. I received this entry in my email inbox this morning entitled "potential blog fodder." Enjoy.
Almost two years ago Debbie, the kids and I returned to Houston after a lengthy overseas assignment. It was great to return home and reunite with family and friends. We bought a house, settled-in and enjoyed the comforts of home life. Unfortunately, things were not going well on the professional front with my job. The problem seemed to emanate from the radically different working environment I found myself returned to. While in Asia I had many challenging and rewarding assignments. Work life back in the home office was mundane to say the least. To add fuel to my disgruntlement, one day I observed a note, thoughtfully posted in the men's bathroom. The note read, "If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be neat and wipe the seat." The nerve! Talk about demeaning and childish! This was typical of the bar-b-que eating, good ole boy culture that permeated the office. It was just too much. I vowed then and there to "get a real job", a "grown-up" job. This was a watershed event. No one was going to tell me how to do my personal business and get away with it! Eventually I left my employer of 11 plus years to work for a new, more "sophisticated" company. Obviously the posting in the bathroom wasn't the only factor, but it was definitely time for a change. My new job would take me far from the Bayou City. Interviews in Holland, travel to England, a flurry of new sights and experiences. Finally, the deal was done and I reported bright and early on my first day of work. My new location was situated in a quite, green suburb, amongst well-appointed European office buildings with modern, stream-lined architecture. A typical Nordic-Bauhaus construct, my building was part of a larger "campus" which was purpose-built to maximize employee convenience, efficiency and engender a sense of pride and satisfaction, thus contributing to greater productivity and efficiency. This was the anti-thesis of my previous employer's approach to the workplace environment. It was clear, I had arrived!
As I strolled down the solemn hallways of my new fortress, I could hear the hushed tones of conversations in English, French, Dutch, Russian & German. Discussing deep intellectual issues of tremendous global importance (no doubt). How stimulating! So many different cultures and experiences to absorb! I was thrilled. After a whirlwind tour and orientation I was left to organize my work and gather my thoughts. Eventually I was drawn back to the more mundane, but necessary, logistics of daily life. "Where is the copier? Where is the water cooler? Oh, fresh fruit for me? How nice." Everything was in its place, and waiting for my attention.
"Excuse me, which way to the men's room?"
Need I say, it was immaculate? Modern and outfitted with an efficiency commensurate with the architecture of the building. Further, it was sub-divided into completely enclosed "throne-rooms" to ensure each guest the utmost in privacy. As I slowly opened the door to my new kingdom, I was greeted by a neatly typed and laminated placard installed in each room. Yes, you guessed it, "...sprinkle..tinkle...argh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It amazes me how much of Motherhood consists of being the one in a family who is willing to pay attention to the details and get all the small things done. Of course there are plenty of big things required…driving children here and there, cleaning laundry to ensure the family is clothed, buying and preparing food for sustenance, the list goes on and on. Lately, however, I am bogged down with all the little things that rest solely on my shoulders. I am sure there are Mothers in the world that let these kinds of things slip through their fingers, but I am determined not to be one of them. I am better than that.
Earlier this week, one of these “small things” almost became my mental undoing. As you know, Josh has rejoined his football team after we found out about our delay in moving to Holland. Because of his brief time away from the team, we missed the part where the dutiful team Mom takes all the jerseys on behalf of the other very busy parents on the team and has the last names put on the back. Therefore, this “small thing” trickled down to me…No, problem, I’m glad he is back on the team and this small chore will be no problem…
First, every store I called said they would be glad to do it, but could not get it back to me in time for him to play his next game. After his game on Saturday, we rushed directly to the store to ensure it was done in a timely manner. Nooooo, the jersey was a smidge dirty and they refused to do it. Three games played, still no name on the back of his jersey. Finally, after his game on Monday night, I came home from the game and immediately washed his jersey so I could take it to the store first thing the next morning (bear in mind we did not get home from the game until after 10:00 PM). Buzzer rings…I open up the dryer…Where can I get some Prozac, because this can not be happening right now…Little Helmut has left a whole package of gum in his pants pocket and it is now all over the drum of the dryer! I spent the next 45 minutes using every household-cleaning product I own (with chemicals mixing and I am sure killing brain cells) to get it clean. At about 1:00 AM I felt like burning those evil jerseys that were conspiring against me, but I was too tired to find any matches. On a more positive note, everything seems a little better in the morning light, and I did not burn the jerseys. I took them to the sporting goods store and got the names put on them like a responsible Mother should. I reiterate, I will be a “small things” Mom (just as my mother was), because my children deserve it.
Josh’s football game last night went great. He played some linebacker and tight end. He is really enjoying himself and seems to be learning some real football skills. I’m loving every minute of it.
That late night football game made for a very grumpy Samantha this morning. I let her sleep as late as possible, but when I woke her up to get ready for school she was beside herself. She was crying and saying she didn’t want to go to school…I just miss you the whole time I am there (sadly I could not return the sentiment)... I forced her to get dressed, wrangled her while doing her hair and lectured her about school being her full time job for the next 17+ years. All the while, she is crying and whining. Once I finished doing her hair I asked her to pick out a bow for her ponytail. She picked out a blue, white and black soccer ribbon to go with her Kelly green shirt and pink skirt…don’t you want this green one instead…no, I want the soccer ribbon, it’s my favorite (more crying and whining). I was trying to decide how to handle the situation when three words popped into my head (whether they came from my mother, a parenting magazine I read upon arrival of my first child, or Dr. Phil, I can’t remember)…chose your battles…Sure, wear the mismatched ribbon… I swear to you, it was like I turned on a light switch. She was all smiles and didn’t give me another problem all morning. I am not sure if this was a reward for good parenting skills or a sign that she needs to see a psychiatrist about her Multiple Personality Disorder, but I am going with parenting skills.
Well, it’s official. Keith from Grabel Movers came today and surveyed the house for the move. He did come bearing one bit of good news. We had originally been told we would be allowed a 20-foot container for our surface shipment, but Shell changed its policy to a 40-foot container on Sept. 1st. That means we can take anything we want. I am still going to keep it light because I am not sure how big our place in Holland will end up being. The movers are scheduled to pack us up on November 1st and we are making our flight reservations for November 4th. Keith made it sound like getting your shipment out of customs was a long and complicated process, but at least I know what kind of time frame we are looking at. I guess this means we really are moving to Holland.
As promised, here is the picture of the “Order of Operations” mobile that Helmut and I (with a little licking help from Josh and Sam) completed this weekend. It turned out how I had envisioned it, and Helmut seems pleased. Strangely, the hardest part was licking the Tootsie Pops down to the right size. A few times we would forget what we were doing and bite into it. Josh was really the best at it. I think he finished eight out of twelve all by himself. Towards the end he was looking a little sick in the face from all those lollipops…Talk about aversion therapy.
The week has started, yet again. I did run last night for the first time in about two months. I hate starting all over again. I ran the track while Josh practiced for football. After practice I asked him if it was embarrassing to have your mom running the track. He answered, “No, but I wouldn’t really call it running, more like aggressive walking.” Thanks a lot! There is nothing like a ten year old to keep you in touch with reality. I suppose I have to start somewhere.
