The Other Stuff I Should Do

Why is it that whenever I have stuff I REALLY HAVE to do, I find about a billion other things that suddenly seem much more important? And I have to do them right NOW. For example, I've been thinking about blogging for about a month or two, give or take, and today, two days before we have to move, I finally start. Maybe it has something to do with procrastination.

It isn't like I have oodles of free time on my hands. You see, Hubby and I have twins. Delightful, darling, devious, daring, adorable little five-month-old twins. Both are girls, and both are the absolute loves of our lives, along with our other two kids. They are both boys, and boy-boys at that. Mine is twelve, and his will turn the big one-eight next month. Yep, I have an almost-eighteen-year-old stepson, so now I have to figure out how I suddenly got so old. Maybe I can just rationalize this by explaining to myself that I married an "older" man. Sounds like something to go along with the procrastination thing...

Anyhoo, we have a little bit of packing done and a lot left to do and of course this falls to me. Not that I mind. At least I'll know where everything is when we get to where we're going. And I'm really excited about this move. We're losing our house in this whole subprime-mortgage meltdown-foreclosure mess. That sounds terrible, I know, but it's got its benefits. We'll no longer have an enormous, soul-crushing house payment every month. Instead, we'll pay reasonable rent. And even though we'll not build any equity, at least we won't lose money every month on our property. Our home now is worth about a quarter of a million dollars less than what we owe on it. Yuck. The worst part of it is, I know we're not alone and I also know that there are folks out there who are in a far worse position than we are and I really feel for them. Things are tight for us, but we'll never starve and our kids will never be cold.

Speaking of kids, ours are really awesome. And I don't mean "awesome" in the sense of "awesome is just the superlative that first comes to mind," I mean it in the truest sense of the word: they inspire awe in not only me but in everyone who meets, knows or otherwise observes them. Doesn't that sound like we're full of ourselves?!?! Oh, but let me illustrate my point. When Biscuit, the twelve-year-old, was ten, we got him a new bike for Christmas. It was super cool. It was a bright, shiny red with freestyle trick handlebars (I don't even know if I'm saying that right but I hope you get my drift), pegs on the front and back for who knows what, and hand brakes. Biscuit was on excitement overload and we (just the two of us) rode to the park for him to tear around and show me how much faster he could ride. Now, Biscuit gets a little competitive, sometimes to the point that he forgets other stuff. Important stuff, like one of the fundamental laws of physics, that two objects can't occupy the same spot in space at the same time. So, as he was screeching around the path on the park, hurtling toward the sitting area where a sweet elderly couple was enjoying a quiet moment, he simultaneously attempted to gloat over his shoulder at me and increase his speed, he glided with awesome grace and dignity straight toward an innocent park bench. On any other day leading up to this one, this wouldn't have been a problem. However, this was Christmas Day and little Biscuit was riding a new bike with, of course, the oh-so-impressive grown-up hand brakes. I screamed out a warning, "Oh no, look out!!!" and back the pedals went. And they kept going, spinning more and more frantically until the front tire rammed full-speed into the bench and my cute little boy found himself flying through the air.

He walked his bike home and we bought him a new helmet the next day and it was a good week before he got over being too mad at his stupid new bike to ride it again. But I'll never forget that cute little couple in the park who witnessed my son's kamikaze attempt to destroy that park bench. They were very politely concerned, of course, but I overheard him tell his wife, "Glad we weren't sitting THERE today," as I walked and Biscuit sheepishly limped away.

All right, I suppose now that Bean One is awake I can no longer use the excuse that the noise of packing will wake the Beans, especially since One tends to be noisier than her sister. Off to pack and to hell with procrastination. Except first, I really have to clean the car windows...