Aunt Jo to the rescue

My Aunt Jo, from Sarasota Florida, has a knack for knowing good timing. Or at least God does. She has visited three times in the past 9 months - once when the boys were first born (Alleluiah! Our savior for meals, feedings, and overall HELP!), once when Duncan had just passed away (Alleluiah! Scott and I needed respite and she offered it), and just this week (Alleluiah! House work, house work, outdoor work, housework!). We didn't know, when she made the flight arrangements, that the house would be on the market at the time. But boy did it work out awesomely. All those little projects (declulttering closets, removing personal stuff, cleaning, paint touch ups, spring landscaping, and MUCH more) necessary to help sell a house were weighing on my petite little frame. So she eased the burden in so many ways. And Aunt Jo had some great connecting time with little J-man too. They love each other.

But what a wild week. We have had a couple couples express interest in the house - setting up private viewings. And our open house was Sunday, which attracted nice crowds. But noone's yet gone to the infamous NEXT STEP: An offer, please? We're obviously VERY early in the game. We believe our location is what will save us, in the current market. Tell your friends. Tell you family. Tell random cute young couples eager to have a charming Clintonville abode or random empty nesters who are looking to downsize... 252 Winthrop is WHERE IT'S AT.

For pics and a quick explanation of offerings, pass along thise website:
http://www.252winthroprd.blogspot.com/

Ready for a World's Worst Mother Moment? This morning I watched my child bounce. I repeat, I observed (and was ultimately the CAUSE of) Jackson bouncing today. I don't mean I got to see him bounce a ball (which would be much more fun). I mean HE physically bounced. The little guy was stationed on his back on the changing table and I took my eye off of him for a couple measely seconds... long enough for him to tumble over the edge. When I turned back towards him, it was too late. I WATCHED my kid decend towards the ground and then ultimately hit the (carpeted - THANK GOD) floor. He landed on his back. And he actually bounced a bit. I'd like to think that I'm a relatively calm mom. Bumps, bruises, and even loud crying don't bother me much. As I so often quote my mother, I figure "he'll live." But when I saw that little body bounce like that, I was absolutely uncontrollably hysterical. I snatched him and called, in a blood curdling I've-gone-mad-please-tell-me-my-kid's-O-K scream, for my Aunt Jo. She was a floor away and came running for us.

I guess I shoulda let you know at the beginning of this story that Jackson is fine. He screamed for a couple minutes, and then returned to his normal smile-ear-to-ear behavior. I was sobbing at the time, repeating to Aunt Jo, "Do you think he's OK? Do you think anything's wrong?" To make me feel better, she explained that Stacia (her daughter and my cousin) rolled off of a bed onto a hard wood floor when she was itty bitty. Stacia is a junior in high school taking AP courses and starting on her varsity b-ball team. So I figure Jackson's got a good chance of equally above average academic and athletic performance in the future.

But, I mean to tell you, today marks fright I have seldom felt before.

While Aunt Jo was here, I also realized that this part of April marks ONE SOLID YEAR of not working, officially. My nanny job with Sophia is too fun to call "official" work, so it doesn't count. But I can hardly believe it. One year. A whole stinkin YEAR of being off the pay roll. What does this mean for me? How do I feel about it? How did I respond to that realization? Where am I headed from here in the way of work? What kind of money-making, if any, do I plan to do in Minnesota? When I reflect enough to find the answers to these questions, I'll let you know. Geez, there's so much to reflect about. There needs to be a whole extra day in the week, carved out specifically for reflection. God made light and dark on the first day, trees and flowers on the second.... rest on the seventh... and REFLECTION on the eighth!!! Rest and reflection are NOT the same thing. So I think we need a whole extra day for it.

Speaking of reflecting, I have been heavily impacted by the news that two students from Liberty High School died earlier in the week. Three 17 year olds were driving home late Sunday night on 315 and lost control of the car, hitting one tree, then another. Two of them were twin girls, and one boy. None of them were ever in a class of mine, but they look familiar. Probably, I brushed shoulders with them in the hallways during my couple years teaching there. One of the twins and the boy died sometime early Monday morning. It has sent me into a wave of emotion... primarily about how tragic this is. And the sadness for me has been magnified thinking about the remaining twin, who was released from the hospital and made it out alive, and how she will carry her sister's death her entire life. It's just sad. Keep those families and the entire community of students in your prayers.