The Basement

I don't have too much experience with basements. The only basement I ever spent any amount of time in was in my grandmother's house in Illinois. Half of it was finished and contained an awesome game room outfitted with my dad's childhood couch, pool table, ping pong table, and atari system. I have many happy memories of hanging out in that space with my cousins and relatives. Even with all the fun things to do down there, I was terrified of the basement because of the other half. The unfinished half. The dark, spooky, cavernous other half that was sure to swallow me up in the dark abyss never to be found by my parents again. Plus, it smelled weird. Like darkness. And fear. And mothballs.

Our new house has a basement. It houses our huge laundry room, our overflow pantry, a full bathroom, a storage room, and the playroom/bonus room/guest quarters. It is big and so useful. I love having the extra space. Unfortunately, I am scared to death of it.

My fears are largely based on hypothetical and very unlikely scenarios, Like boogeymen hiding in dark corners or snakes hunkering down behind the washing machine. And being buried alive in the event of an earthquake. I do live in California, earthquakes are a possibility. My brain tells me that these are unwarranted phobias, however my imagination doesn't give a hoot. I get the heeby jeebies every time I go down there, which is approximately 20 times a day. It doesn't help that basements have their own climate zone, totally different from the rest of the house. And tiny half windows. It really is the dark, cold underbelly of the house. Spooky. A lot could go wrong down there, I'm just saying.


Because I am terrified of the basement, there are a few rules established so the flipping of my lid is kept at a minimum. Firstly, a light must be left on in every room. It is common knowledge that boogeymen like dark places and if my basement is lit up like the 4th of July, none will inhabit it. Secondly, all doors must be left open. I want to assess the potential of snakes and/or boogeymen in every room before I enter it. Thirdly, someone must accompany me down there at all times, size or age of other person does not matter. And fourthly, I only stay in the basement for 5 minutes or less. It lessens my chance of being buried alive.

Of course, JD thinks I am ridiculous and closes all the doors and turns out every light just to mess with me. And it does mess with me. Big time. I find myself doing laundry standing sideways to the machines so I have full view of the open room behind me. I vacuum like this. And if I use the bathroom down there, I force myself to go really fast before the panic sets in. I have issues, I know. It's unfortunate since a huge chunk of our living space is there. And, you know, I'm an adult and all.

I really want to get over my basement phobia. My girls miss their playroom and the laundry is piling up. Any tips for this basementphobe? Be honest, have you ever found a boogeyman in your basement? How about a snake? A salamander? Will the house fall on me if I stay down there for too long? Help me overcome my fears!!

Nothing Terrible Happened

I have been trying to figure out how to slip this post in without anyone noticing that I have been gone for a week and a half. I feel like there should be this huge, dramatic reason for me not posting before now - and there is a reason, just not a very dramatic one - because not hearing one single peep out of someone for that long warrants a good explanation since some of you might be thinking something horrible happened to me. Nothing horrible happened, but there are some updates I think I owe you.

My mom came to visit.

She came the day after Christmas and left yesterday. It was great having her here, but weird to see her after being apart for 2 months.

I'm not gonna lie, I love having her around to visit with, but having her help with my girls was awesome. I went from having my mom, mother in law, and grandmother living a few miles away, always available to babysit to having no one to help out. Help is wonderful. Help is a luxury. I need help.

We had a whirlwind week sightseeing and eating. Boy did we eat a lot. Beatrice loved having her Mimi around.

Oh yeah, and we moved. Again.

Let me explain. Before our big move to California got delayed, we were supposed to move into an awesome historical home. When the move got pushed back 2 months, we lost the home. I was really sad. I knew I was going to miss the hardwood floors, wood burning fireplace, Spanish roof tiles, and harbor views the first place had to offer. Instead, we moved into a townhouse with lots and lots and lots of neighbors. Loud neighbors. Neighbors that smoked next to our open windows. Neighbors that played their xboxes at top decibels. Neighbors with kids that put worms on my 2 year old's head. Neighbros with kids that took their clothes off and put them in our bushes. Those kinds of neighbors.

Even without the neighbors though, the townhouse never felt like home. Everything was so white. White walls, white trim, white doors, white ceilings, white appliances, brown carpeting. There was a good deal of space and everything was nice and clean, but I really struggled with warming the place up. And to rub salt in the wound of what should've been, we had to drive past the awesome historical home everyday on the way to our townhouse. It was cruel and unusual punishment.

So we put in a transfer to move whenever the historical place came available. We prayed that it would happen before the summer so we could avoid anymore worms on our children's heads once the neighbor kids were out in full force. We were shocked when we received a phone call last week informing us that the historical home was available and we could move right away.

We weighed the pros and cons of waiting until February to move, but ultimately jumped at the chance to be in our California dream home sooner than later. Plus with my mom in town, we knew the help would be beyond awesome. So with just 2 months since the last time we moved, we called a moving company and loaded up our belongings yet again. We are crazy, really crazy.

We moved into our new place last Thursday.

Despite being crazy, we are really happy. I got my Spanish tiles, my hardwood floors, and my homey charm. Plus a ton more square feet so we will have plenty of room when visitors come. Oh yeah, I got my harbor views too.

We are basically settled in with only a few small piles to unpack. I read somewhere that moving and divorce are the 2 most traumatic things a kid can go through other than losing a parent. So far, my girls are handling 3 moves in 4 months like troopers.

So nothing terrible happened to me. I've just been up to my ears in family and moving. Hopefully I can settle into a more routine posting schedule now that the new year is upon us. By the way, happy new year! I promise not to disappear for too long again without warning you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some hardwood floors that need to be mopped and some Spanish tiles that need to be admired. Yippee!!

Merry Christmas

California Christmas

When we moved to California, I never thought about what the holidays would be like. I considered what our new home would look like, what our church would be like, how the people would receive us, but never what the holidays would be like. Christmas couldn't possibly feel like Christmas without snow and blustery temperatures. Right?

Christmas weekend officially began yesterday and while the temps have steadily been in the high 50s and 60s for the past 2 weeks or so, Friday brought warmer weather. Since there would be no cozy sweaters and wooly socks this Christmas, we made the most of our situation and headed to the beach. When in Rome...

The weather was perfect. Clear skies, warm but breezy, beautiful. We packed a picnic and stayed all morning. It still didn't feel like Christmas though...

So we headed to Manhattan Beach to check out some lights. The pier is lit with twinkling lights and the whole downtown area is very festive. We needed festive.

We ate peppermint ice cream, we walked the pier, we got pretty darn close to feeling Christmas. It still wasn't enough though.

So we went to church. We found a great new church that we love and were excited to attend Christmas Eve service. 

That almost did the trick. We needed a little something more to really get there. So we opened a present before bed.

We were almost feeling it. Christmas jammies were next on the agenda. 

We were 99% feeling like Christmas had begun. Something was missing. Then we skyped our family and we were there. 

The Christmas feeling is not about climate or lights or Christmas treats, it's about family. We are missing our family. If you have yours nearby this holiday, hug them a little tighter. Merry Christmas out there!!

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

A tree full of presents.

Nana's red and green cookies.

My mom's spiced tea.

The Christmas ham my inlaws sent.

Overflowing stockings.

We hit the motherload today. 3 big packages were delivered to our doorstep filled with presents, treats, HAM!!, and stocking stuffers. My heart is full, but the floor in the living room by the Christmas tree is fuller. 

Yum

Christmas is not Christmas without my Nana's huge spread of candies, cookies, and cakes. Every year, my cousins and I get tins filled with red and green cookies, almond bark, fruit cake cookies, and jam cake. The red and green cookies are like gold and we all fight over who has more in their tin. Nana threatens us that this is the last year she is making them, but that was 3 years ago and the cookies are always in our tins. Keep them coming, Nana! Or else. Nothing says Christmas spirit like threatening your grandmother. Fa la la la la la la la la!!!

Since I got married, I have been making some of her treats for JD. And me. Mostly for me. One of our favorites are the toffee graham crackers. They are easy and so yummy. Here is Nana's recipe:

Toffee Graham Crackers

1 c butter
1 c light brown sugar
graham crackers

Cover cookie sheet with foil and line with graham crackers. Boil sugar and butter for 4 minutes. Remove from heat. Pour hot sugary liquid over graham crackers until covered. Bake at 325 for 10 minutes. Cool 15 minutes and devour.

Weekend Adventure: Knott's Berry Farm

This weekend we headed east to Knott's Berry Farm, America's first theme park and - fun fact alert! - the birthplace of the boysenberry. There were rides, attractions, shopping, and tons of food. The best part for us though? Free admission due to a monthly promotion. It could have been the lamest place ever, but the simple fact that it was free would have been alright with us. Thankfully, it was far from lame. It was amazeballs.

JD and I had no idea there were so many rides. We both hate roller coasters so we were a little freaked out to see this at the entrance.

And this.

There were lots and lots of scary rolling death rides, I mean roller coasters. JD and I just stood there looking at them shaking our heads saying, "no way, there is no way I would ride one of those things." We are wimps like that.

We weren't afraid of all of the rides though. We rode a train around the park at a safe speed of 5 mph. JD rode a tractor trailer ride with Beatrice and I rode a tugboat with her that spun around. She loved it. I nearly barfed.

Check out the look on my face in the second picture above. I am about to lose my cookies. And this was a kiddie ride. I am seriously a big wimp. My equilibrium is nothing to mess with.

Why go to a theme park if you hate roller coasters, you ask? A) It was free. B) Boysenberry history is fun. C) For the kids. And our eldest loved the rides. The spinnier and bouncier, the better.

Our youngest? She hated them and begged us not to make her go upside down anymore.

Just kidding. We did not take our baby on any rides except for her first time in the Bjorn forward facing. She loved that.

She loved looking at all the people with Daddy.

We rode, we walked, we ate. We were exhausted. We will definitely be going back for the boysenberries and family fun. Not so much for the rides.