I Want to SCREAM.

And not because it's Halloween.

But because our playroom- our lovely, carpeted, four-hundred square foot room in our lovely, newly purchased house- just flooded for the second. time. 

I.want.to.SCREAM. 

I don't like to complain online much. But right now? After going to bed at 12:30 and waking up at only to realize that I have sunk my feet into a giant beige swamp? I'm in pain. And I just have to vent. It costs $2,000 a pop to dry it up. We are on the wait list for gutters and getting on the list (today) for an outdoor drainage solution, a total of another $7,000. And the owner before? Says they had no idea.

I call B.S.

They renovated this house for over six months, so if it didn't happen with them, then they MUST have seen damage from before. And if it didn't happen before? Then they must have done something that makes it happen now. To me, it's just that simple. What are the chances we would get water, massive quantities, two times in six weeks and it hasn't happened in the decade before? I'm going for slim to none.

I just don't know what to do. I feel completely, disgustingly powerless in this situation. And I've now lost basically all sleep and acquired strained crazy ligaments in my pregnancy loosened pelvis from A. Trying to be fun with Declan and letting him sit on my foot as I walked. (Hey, smart idea prego lady!! Why don't you add 25 pounds to one leg and kick it around?! wise!) and B. Trying to save some furniture from getting soaked.

......

ahh. AHhhh. AHHH!!!!

But I realized there are two things that you can do for me. (Unless you are a real estate attorney ready to get them to pay... then you win this card hands down!)

1. Please, please, please vote for Declan. We are in first place (and will win $500 to Old Navy!) and I used all my energy until late last night trying to keep him there. It's the last day of voting. You need to click on this link, click "vote", become a fan of Bump Club once they ask, and then make sure the "vote" turned to a green check mark, otherwise it didn't register. If it didn't, just click again. It should work that time.

annnnd two?

2. Please tell me any and all horror stories of home ownership that you've encountered. If you can relive the tale. It's Halloween. A day for scary stories. And I need some compadre-ism.

UGGHHHHh. I'm thinking it's bad when you have professional flood driers on speed dial...

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Our Little Lion

This little lion is in the running for a $500 gift card to Old Navy through a local group called Bump Club Austin. 

That means there aren't many contestants and we have a chance. 

And we all know $500 at Old Navy goes a loooong way. 

And will be especially needed with the second chiclet on the way!

We started a day later than that (albeit, adorable) ghost in first place, so we need some help.

So please, please, please... 

Won't you vote?

(just click above.)

It's through Facebook, once a day, and only goes through Halloween. 

You might even get a roar video later this week if you do.

And that, my friends, is quite a TREAT. 

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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Their Love.

If you don't follow me on Instagram, then you missed this. 

I still melt.

Happy day, happy life. 

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Peyton, You Rock.

{photo by the amazing jenni of j. noel photography}

Day three in my single mom gig. Don't worry- Peyton hasn't abandoned us for good, at least not that I know of. Work called and he just had to travel to California. (I know, I know... POOR Peyton.) And while the boy and I have been living it up, painting the town red, dancing on the ceiling and such, today is P's birthday, so I'm kind of obligated to miss him. Lucky for him, I've found some concrete reasons why he's been sorely needed these past few days...

- He unpacks groceries. Declan tried yesterday, but didn't understand you take them from the bag to a shelf, not the bag to the family room. He was very orderly at least, and only picked out the cylindrical items.

- He cuddles me in the morning. Ok. Sometimes. But yesterday morning I was especially in need of one and he wasn't there. It blew.

- He gives the baby baths and puts him to bed at night.

- He cleans the poopy diapers. 'nuff said. 

- Not only does he watch my shows with me, he also lets me pause every three minutes to comment. Lots of people would have kicked me to the curb by now, but nope. Not mah man.

- He takes out the trash. Which I nearly forgot to do yesterday...

- And feeds the dog.

- He chases Declan around the house and gets lots of kisses from him and puts him down for naps when I'm just spent.

Clearly these aren't life shattering things (and it must be said that he does many other, bigger contributions to the household as well) but these are the ones that jump out when he's gone. The little things. The glue to my sanity. So instead I've been leaning on chamomile tea. And while it's good, it just can't unpack itself from a grocery bag.

All this to say... Peyton, I miss you. I realized today that I actually miss, miss you, like a physical miss, rather than just saying the words and not fully knowing them. People do longer separations all the time and I'm being a wimp, but you deserve to hear it since, oooh yeah, it's your birthday! Sum it all up to mean that you rock, we love you, and we can't wait to have you home.

love and loads of x's and o's,

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Remembering Our First

Today is Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness Day. 

I wrote a few years ago about our first pregnancy, one that did not end as beautifully as Declan's.

 It was short-lived, but filled with dreams and excitement and hopes and love. 

Our little Juan Carlos. 

Our bittersweet miracle after months of trying. 

Tonight I light a candle, remember those weeks, and hold that sweet lost baby in my heart. 

Losing What You Barely Had

(It's wordy and not well proofed, but was much needed to heal.)

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17 Months

I haven't written about Declan in forever. I think my last update was his 48 week photo. And while this was partially for you (because who truly wants to read about another person's baby that much...?) it was mostly just laziness. But this must end. Because his changes have been gradual and slow day to day, yet overall add up to leaps and bounds. It's like sand between my fingers and I just want to snatch it all back up.

So what describes that boy these days?

He leans in for hugs and smacks a big opened mouth guppy kiss right on your lips. He gives these sneak attacks to strangers and animals and mama and daddy when he's feeling happy. He's affectionate to a whole new level, a very welcome level at that. And while this affection is sweet, on the flip side are his (mostly rare) emotional tantrums when he doesn't get his way. He is just living big.

Organization flows from his fingertips as he moves my clothes from one drawer to the next then puts everything from the floor into the clean laundry basket. And he's helpful, oh so helpful. Constantly closing the refrigerator door for us and spilling milk from his bottle so he can bring a towel over to wipe it up. He shuts the dishwasher and turns the buttons on the dryer. And he could care less about the word "no." It holds only humor to him.

He loves playing in Tegan's water bowl and running away from us screaming and telling us exactly what a cat, dog, lion, or sheep say. His dance moves are on FIRE, complete with head bobbing to one side, a little sway, and sometimes a spin or two. He could live on fruit. He's constantly going, going, going- bringing us books only to leave by page two or pushing limits to climb onto the table. It's exhausting and amusing all at once.

And while I love all these amazing changes that come with growing up, I look back on his baby pictures and just want to slink back in. Just for one day to hold that soft, teeny body and soak in those early emotions. But I can't. So instead I'll focus on commemorating today, since in the not too distant future I'll surely long to come back.

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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