Ok, so our delusion has ended. W and I had seriously considered staying in our wee lil apartment even after the Wonder Twins arrive. It’s cheap, it’s in a great neighborhood, we’d be hip, city dwelling parents! It’s small, it’s a one-bedroom, it’s a third floor walk-up. We are idiots.
But we’ve seen the light. Many of our friends and family have responded with a kind, “Um yeah, DUH.” We’re meeting with our realtor-to-be tonight to look at some houses in the East Bay. Goodbye hip, city-dwelling status. Hello suburbia! I think in the long run it will be far better to have more space and a yard and all that. It’s just a matter of picking the right one in the right neighborhood, you know? Plus we are real estate geeks and home improvement fools. So much so that even in our rented apartment, we put in a new kitchen floor. Gotta keep those skilz sharp!
So, although I’m excited, I’m also a little wary of this house tour. I tend to get carsick even on the best of days, and we’re going to be riding in our realtor’s car in a very hilly, curvy-roaded neighborhood. I’m fucked. Evenings have been the worst time for me, as far as “morning” sickness is concerned. Unfortunately it’s been getting worse lately instead of better. Kinda frustrating. (But of course I’m not complaining! Just whining a little!) Last night we were at the Bridge School Benefit and I made us leave early - before Metallica. W is so nice. He tried to pretend he wasn’t upset! I tried to stay, but I was heaving and vomurping (thank you Leah!) and figured I want the time I puked all over myself at a 1990 Steve Miller show to stand alone. I don’t really need multiple concert-puking stories, do I?
Wish me luck tonight! For A) no puking and B) finding the perfect house!
I will definitely be getting to my 8 random things, I promise! This job is just crazy busy. It’s good, but I’m really missing the blogosphere! I have a post in my head about the stress of gaining weight with twins. Check back soon for more self-centered freaking out!
And now...your Lesson of the Day:
If you’re on your way to an open house, and you notice a donut shop, by all means, stop. Get two. It’s ok. Eat them. Voraciously. While driving. It’s ok, really! BUT…when you are about to go meet with the realtor and you ask your husband to check your shirt for crumbs, go ahead and have him check your crotch, too. Otherwise you might go through the ENTIRE house showing with a one-inch flake of glaze stuck to your business.