Our house

August 8, 2010

You’re 16 months now, and it’s time I showed you where we live.  I’ll start here in the living room, this half which is currently designated as yours.

Not shown: you climbing on the chair, standing, rocking. Climb down. Repeat.

The other half is roomy enough for the rest of us, being larger than our living room at the old house.  See all the light?  It’s a bright house.

Not shown: The bigger free T.V. we were gifted by our friend when she left to Portland. Also not shown: the dozen or so balls that normally litter the floor. We play baby baseball frequently. You can hit! You can catch! And you like to throw the bat and run. (You also like to pitch the ball, from two feet away. I strike out every time.)

Here’s the kitchen. 

Not not shown: The piles of dishes. But don’t worry! We have a dishwasher (a real mechanical unhuman one), so this is only a temporary problem.

Here’s the kitchen from the other side.  Look at all that floor!

Not shown: you spilling water on the floor just to clean it up with a dishtowel.

This is where we eat.  We get flowers every week from the farm-share. 

From 2010-08-08
From 2010-08-08

Here is the middle room.  This is actually the middle of the house.  I love this space.  The door leads to the boys’ room.  Behind me is the living room, kitchen, and first bathroom.

Not shown: the boys playing games on the computer.

This is where we sleep — you, me, and your dad. 

Not shown: piles of clothes on the bed.  Also not shown: the closet, four feet deep.  You know, the closet could be your room someday.

Here is your brothers’ room.  It’s at least 15×15, with built-in bookshelves, built-in trunks, and built-in desks.  A huge closet too.  Perfect space.

Not shown: the piles of clothes on Max’s bed, the random nerf gun, plastic sword, or scattering of pokemon cards.
Your brothers play the keyboard a lot. 

They have their own bathroom!  (Beyond the bathroom is the back closet, where we have endless cupboards and drawers and can actually store things and have nice organized linen (yeah, right).

From 2010-08-08

The boys’ room leads out to the backyard.  There were planter boxes here when we moved in.  We took out half of them for more yard space. We grow tomatoes (not yet ripe), sugar snap peas (almost ripe), and strawberries (slowly ripening).  The tomatoes want to take over the yard.  They belong in the Little Shop of Horrors.

From 2010-08-08
From 2010-08-08

Here you are eating a tomato that we didn’t grow.

From 2010-08-08
Almost ripe.  Water play table, sandbox, play tents seen in the background.
From 2010-08-08
From 2010-08-08

Not shown: the sandbox that your daddy built for you, the sand that he collected from the beach with you (don’t worry — the Parks Department told me it was OK), the trash and recycle bins, and the rest of the junk we store for no good reason. Also not shown: the bicycles (you mimed bicycle the other day, hands way up above, legs pumping imaginary pedals).

I didn’t take a picture of my office — I figure you don’t want to ever see that thing again, the place that steals me away for too long (45 hours this week!!!).  I promise, it’s a good thing.  Not shown: the desk suddenly cluttered with sticky notes because I can’t keep it all straight this week, the boxes still unpacked, the bookshelf still disheveled, the big empty space which is calling for a nice couch.  The office is 13×13, after all.

On a side note, blueberry-picking is tough on tall people.

From 2010-08-08

And pretty cute on small people.

“Why can’t I carry the big bucket?”
“Because you dumped all the berries out.”

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