The New Normal

We're getting settled in -- slowly.

We haven't quite got all our duckies in a row, but this week we're rapidly approaching the new normal:

Alarm goes off just before 6 a.m. to get a very groggy (and clumsy in that just-awakened sort of way) mommy up so she can go in and watch her oldest go through the same process in his bedroom. Check.

Early morning potty time, in which A has consistently stayed dry through the night and actually peed in the toilet. Check. (And there was great rejoicing in the land. New house + new routine = use the toilet? Apparently so! Yay!)

Get son to put his own clothes on, while Mom directs verbally and tries to keep both her eyes open at the same time. Check. (The self-dressing is also a fairly recent event -- but mom has to tie the shoes).

Wait for bus to screech to a halt in front of the house, load up A, and then watch it rip around the corner to pick up another classmate. Check. Seriously, I know it only goes 30 mph, but when it's dark and all the more sensible folks are not out and driving yet, it looks like she's trying to qualify for NASCAR.

Call husband, who is still in the D.C. area doing some training with his new job. Chat for about 5 - 10 minutes before he has to get to work. Check.

Trip over bed footboard, think some really bad things while landing on the bed, and then drift off to sleep for 15-20 minutes or so before Miss K comes toddling in. Check.

Contemplate actually making coffee, or saving time and just opening up a Dr. Pepper -- and choose the latter. Check.

Eat breakfast, and start the daily routine: dishes, laundry, and keeping K out of the mud in the backyard. Check.

Hear the ambulance sirens at least once an hour, flying towards the hospital that lies about 2 miles west of here. Check.

Hear the neighbor's dog howling along with the sirens every time they shatter the otherwise serene day. Check.

Hear my dog howling along with the other dog howling at the sirens in a midafternoon singfest. Check. (Actually, that's only happened once).

Get son off of Mario Andretti's school bus. Check.

Play outside/watch movies/read books until dinner time. Check.

Eat dinner and rig a belt to a chair to keep K in it the duration of the meal. Check.

Clean up the aftermath and let kids run outside like hooligans, in whatever state of dress they're in by that point. Check.

Bathtime for kiddies, then a video chat with daddy on the computer. Check.

A going quietly to bed at their actual bedtime like he always does, and mommy trying to convince Miss K to do the same -- for the next three hours. Check.

Mommy getting cranky and ransacking the pantry to find that bag of M&Ms she saw up there somewhere earlier in the day. Check.

Mommy drifting off to sleep sometime after midnight. Check.

Rinse, repeat. And you have to throw in something completely bizarre each day, like driving home from your local Walmart with a jungle in your car -- ferns, palms, Easter lilies for your local church on Sunday; or opening up your front door to greet your pastor -- when you forgot you were wearing a headband featuring ladybugs on giant springy antennas, courtesy of your 3-yr-old. (Thanks, Ruth!)

Keeps things from getting too boring around here.

Let's just pray that we make it all the way through the third week here in Texas without another trip to the emergency room. We're 2 for 2 right now.