Home Sweet Home

This past weekend was a big one for me, and not just because I was able to spend hours upon hours reaping the benefits of having a Slip ‘n Slide and kiddie pool located side-by-side in my grandparents’ yard. No, it was a big weekend because I finally got my first look at my new house.

This is the house where, if my parents have anything to say about it, our family will be spending the next 30-plus years. It’s the house where I’ll be waking up on Christmas morning, learning to ride a bike, getting my first visit from the Tooth Fairy, and performing backbreaking manual labor in the backyard while Dad naps in a hammock with a beer.

Yes, after about a month-and-a-half of house hunting, Mom and Dad finally found one they loved. They submitted an offer on May 30 and found out later that day that it had been accepted. It officially became ours last week. Interestingly, after restricting their home search almost exclusively to West Seattle (where our condo was), they found the house of their dreams in the Seattle neighborhood of Wedgwood.

Now, I’m sure you’re asking yourself, “What kind of goofy name is Wedgwood?” That’s a great question, and I honestly have no clue. All I can tell you is that it’s located in northeast Seattle, just a tad north of (shudder) the University of Washington. Mom was able to get Dad to overlook that horrifying fact and focus more on the close proximity of great schools, a lovely lakefront beach, some nice shopping options, and Elliott Bay Brewery.

Plus, the house itself is pretty great. Mom and Dad took me over there on Sunday morning while they discussed boring things like paint colors and tree limbs, and I give it my full approval. There’s three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a big backyard, and plenty of room inside for both me and my sister-to-be to play nicely (every once in a while).

Here are a few photos of the new place.

Here's what the living room looked like when Mom and Dad first saw the house.
The picture up at the top of the page is what it looks like today.
Someone needs to tell them that the house was robbed!

Same goes for the master bedroom. The bed is gone now, too!

Here I am checking out my bedroom...

...and here I am checking out the kitchen, where I'll spend hours
getting in the way while Mom and Dad attempt to cook.

Big backyard!

'You shall not pass!'

As I mentioned back in May, we’ve been living with Mom’s parents in Redmond ever since Mom and Dad sold our old place, which gave Mom and Dad the time to do their house hunting without any real urgency. We’ve enjoyed it so much there that we’re actually going to be sticking around for a couple more weeks. That’ll give Mom and Dad a little extra time to paint the interior of the house while it’s still empty, and also do a bit of landscaping work before we officially move in.

Speaking of landscaping work, Mom bought Dad a lawnmower for Father’s Day. You’ve never seen somebody so excited, especially when you consider that he essentially just received a gift of weekly chores. I can’t wait to see the fireworks when he stupidly reciprocates by buying Mom an ironing board for her birthday.

'I will iron your sheets when you iron out the inequities in your labor laws.' Amen, sister.

Does this mean I have to share my clothes too?

Earlier this month, I shared the news that Mom and Dad are having another baby. Since then, they’ve been fielding all the same questions from friends and family that everybody gets when they announce that they’re having a second baby: “When is your due date?” “Is the pregnancy going well?” “Do you have enough room in your house for two kids?” “How are you going to pay for day care for two children?” “You’re having another kid already? Are you insane?” “Is it a boy or a girl?” It’s like being interrogated by the world’s most boring detective.

I answered that first question last time – Mom is due on Sept. 20. As for the rest of those questions, here are your answers:

Is the pregnancy going well?

Yes, it’s going swimmingly. Mom’s doctors say that Baby No. 2 is fit as a fiddle, and Mom is also doing great, although she gets nauseated by roughly 97% of the scents known to man. My only complaint is that Mom is quickly running out of lap room for me to sit on.

Uh, lady? This isn't working for me.

Do you have enough room in your house for two kids?

As it turns out, no – unless we all want to bunk together, Little-House-on-the-Prairie-style.

That’s why Mom and Dad sold our two-bedroom condo a month ago and are now on the hunt for something bigger. In the meantime, we’re staying at Ya-Ya and Grumps’ house in Redmond, kind of like…Little House on the Prairie. Go figure.

It’s actually pretty fantastic. I get to spend a lot of time with my grandparents, and I spend pretty much every waking hour of every weekend playing in their gigantic backyard. Good luck trying to measure up to that when you buy a new house, Mom and Dad.

How are you going to pay for day care for two children?

I don’t know. Not my problem.

[Editor’s note: We’ll be just fine. On a completely unrelated topic, can I have some money?]

You’re having another kid already? Are you insane?

Yes. Yes, they are. I like to think that the three of us have settled into a lovely little rut routine with each other. We know how to handle each of our particular quirks and foibles, how to neutralize somebody (usually Dad) who’s throwing a tantrum. I have no idea why they’d want to disrupt the delicate ecosystem that we’ve established. Then again, babies are pretty cute.

Is it a boy or a girl?

Ah, here’s the $64,000 question. Everybody just has to know this one, and it makes no sense to me. I mean, we live in a world where people get upset if you mention one tiny plot point from a single “Game of Thrones” episode that they haven’t seen yet, but when it comes to Mother Nature’s ultimate spoiler alert, you can’t spill the beans fast enough.

Well, fine. You want to know? I’ll tell you. It’s a girl. I’m going to have a little sister. Someone to mold in my own image. Someone to groom as my partner-in-crime as we manipulate our dad into indulging our every whim. Someone to taunt mercilessly because I feel like it. Should be fun!

Of course, the answer to that question leads to the inevitable follow-up question:

Are you disappointed that you didn’t have a boy?

I know I’m not disappointed. Boys are pretty disgusting. There’s one boy at my day care who smells like rotten milk and has permanent snot crust embedded on his upper lip. And I hear they only get worse as they get older.

[Editor’s note: Speaking for myself, I’m not the slightest bit disappointed. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my 19 whole months as a dad, it’s that raising a little girl is pretty much the coolest thing ever. For the sake of symmetry and all that, it would’ve been fun to have one boy and one girl, but if this is considered a consolation prize, I’ll take it in a heartbeat. Besides, any dad who complains that he can’t go out and have a catch with his daughter deserves a kick to the junk, because he just isn’t trying hard enough.]

Room for one more?

Do you have a name picked out?

Geez, you people. Get a hobby.

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day to the best mom in the world. Thanks for being zany.

Does this mean I have to share my toys?

By now, most of you have heard the “joyous” news. My days of being an only child are numbered. I’m going to have a little brother or sister. A couple of weeks ago, Mom and Dad sat me down to have a talk with me. No, not THAT talk, but regardless, I walked away from this one just as shaken.

What did this “talk” consist of? Well, I was playing with my toys after getting home from daycare when Mom and Dad called me over to the couch. Dad pulled me onto his lap, and they then pointed to Mom’s belly and said, “Guess what, Eliza! There’s a baby in there! You’re going to be a big sister!” Unimpressed, I wriggled out of Dad’s grip and went back to my blocks.

But as I sat there, it slowly dawned on me – I’m being replaced! My parents are tired of me, so they’re trading me in for a newer model. Tell me the truth, Mom and Dad! I know you’ve never forgiven me for that time I pooped in the bathtub. Or for when I threw up in Dad’s eye.

[Editor’s note: This couldn’t be further from the truth. We’re having another baby because the first one has been so much fun that we decided we wanted more. Then again, having a baby puke in your eye isn’t that great.]

Seeing as speaking in complete sentences isn’t exactly my forte yet, there’s nothing I can do to get them to reconsider, so I guess I’m going to be forced to deal with this. But on the bright side, soon I’ll have somebody to blame when food gets thrown on the floor, not to mention someone to torment mercilessly.

Easy target.

Whether I like it or not, this new little bundle of joy is due to ruin my life join the family on Sept. 20. If you’ll recall, I was considerate enough to be born on my exact due date. We’ll see if this little usurper will be as polite as I was.

[Final editor’s note: Eliza is actually quite excited about the prospect of being a big sister. Or, at least, as excited as she can be about something that’s not food, dancing or fart noises.]