We spent much of our weekend prepping our house to be “staged” to sell it.  Blech!  I hate that term.  I’m not getting rid of our pictures.  That’s ridiculous.

Side note:  Don’t cook fish the weekend you’re preparing your house.

When we decorated the nursery we painstakingly made the perfect space for our girl.  As much as I’m ready to move I will miss that little room.  It’s by far my favorite spot in the house with it’s pink and yellow walls and throwback pictures from my own youth.  I packed away tiny newborn clothes and stashed the changing pad before stacking the bookshelf on the dresser.

Suddenly it became less a nursery and more of a little girl’s room.  It was all at once a sad and thrilling thing to leave the space where she spent her babyhood and go somewhere else to begin childhood.

We have to let you in on a not so subtle secret.  This is our POD.  I’ve named it Todd.

Why do we have this monstrosity parked in our driveway?  Because WE WANT TO MOVE!!!!  We are busting at the seams in our little townhouse here in Raleigh.  It was perfect 7 years ago when we moved in.  Greyson and I were over-the-moon newlyweds when we found a place with hardwood floors and a first floor Master Bedroom.  It’s a great house and we  have loved living here.  We have the worlds greatest neighbors with whom we developed lifelong friendships and a rather exclusive clique.

We’ve done a lot of drinking, sledding, and drinking with our friends.  We  babysit each other’s dogs and children.  We just love them.  They call us “Greymy” and our daughter “Baby Greymy.”  We’ll be so sad to leave them.  The good news is we won’t be going far.  Last weekend we went to the new house of the first couple to leave the neighborhood.  So, it’s not that big of a deal.  We just won’t be able to stop by for chats before dinner.

We’ve packed the Pod and will spend this weekend scrubbing, sorting, stashing, and replacing light bulbs.  (While our neighbors babysit, naturally)  We’ve met with the mortgage lender and the realtor.  We’ve already starting looking and falling in love with houses.  (Stupid!  Stupid!  Stupid!)

All right, ya’ll!  In about a week, come buy our house!

I think yesterday was proof John Edwards may be the luckiest SOB on the planet.  I get where the jury is coming from.  I mean, it’s not illegal to be philandering douchebag.  I think he knew that money was going where he really needed it.  He’s such a smooth talker he convinced some old lady to pay to hide his little oopsy-daisy side project.  I think he made sure that money was not “campaign funds.”  Come on!  He’s a lawyer.  He knew the law and I don’t think he broke it.  Slime ball, yes.  Criminal, no.

One person caught my eye the whole trial.  Cate Edwards faithfully and dutifully joined her father in court every day.  The same father who cheated on her cancer-stricken mother and betrayed her family.

The Associated Press

I have such admiration for her dignity and grace.  I know what it’s like to be let down by your dad.  I understand the embarassment and disgust of dealing with the aftermath of his sins.  It was bad enough for me.  I can’t imagine having everybody in the world know about what my dad had done.  Maybe she and Chelsea Clinton should start a club.

Anyway, I think it was a true sign of forgiveness and strength for Cate to stand with him.  It was a wonderful example for her younger siblings who are no doubt still mourning the loss of their mother.  It inspires me to continue to work on my relationship with my dad, as an example for my daughter.

Well done Cate, well done.  It’s over now.  I hope you now have time to focus on your marriage, and your life.  Good luck.  (Sorry for calling your dad a douche.)

This has been an amazing weekend of being together as a little family.  We showed our little girl some of her little city.  I can’t stop looking at these pictures.

In my last post I regaled you all with a story of my daughter’s vomiting and then I disappeared for a few days.  Why you ask?  If you are a more experienced parent you may have realized it’s because Greyson and I caught the Satan’s Stomach Flu that cursed Charlotte and others at her daycare.  Her teacher told us “the parents get it much worse.”

No shit.

Well, not literally “no shit” because there was plenty of that too.  You know what.  This may be TMI for some of you.  Do yourself a favor and stop reading, okay.  Before you leave, however, if you could make sure you are a fan of the blog on Facebook and following me on Twitter , that would be amazing!  Aaannnd if the spirit moves you, feel free to scroll down and click the little brown button to your right that says “Top Baby Blogs” like, once everyday.  Please? Come on!  I’ve been sick!  Thanks!

Oh, you’re still reading?  Then you must have an insanely stronger stomach than I’ve had in the past few days.  May God have mercy on your digestive tract.  Anyway, I kept Charlotte home from school Wednesday.  Thursday afternoon when I left work I knew.  I knew the upchuck was bubbling down below.  I called Greyson to go pick up Charlotte because I wasn’t going to make it.  I really just wanted to make it home to a commode or trash can.

No luck.  I lost my lunch in a paper grocery bag at the stoplight.  I had to give myself props for not even having to pull over.  Thankfully it was rush hour and I had lots of time to get it out before the light turned as green as I was.  It really sucked that I had eaten a really healthy lunch.  I had soup and salad.  Why couldn’t this happen on a day I gorged on a greasy burger?

The worst part came when I got home.  I think I may have literally puked my brains out to think that I could pick up that soaking paper bag and transport it into a plastic trash bag.  Yep, you guessed it.

::splat::

The warm remains of my lunch burst through the bag, on to my shoes and our driveway.  It’s a humbling thing to pour pitchers of water to clear chunks of your vomit from under your car.  (The hose didn’t reach around the house.)  The next 12 hours were a toilet-gripping blur.

These are the kinds of things that happen to me folks, sadly I have no shame and tell you all about it on the Internet.  We recovered and made it to the wedding of a family friend and had time to play and blow bubbles this weekend.  I toasted to the good health of the bride and groom when they become parents.