Alive and Well: A Banner Day in the Heiss Household

When our house went under contract, the closing date was set to September 26 (the day before we're set to get the keys to our new apartment), but then the buyers asked if they could move that up to September 15, so we very quickly made arrangements for that. 

This was mostly fine because selling our house was rather passive for us. We had given our neighbours power of attorney, so they went to sign the documents in our place. We just had to help arrange things and be present for an "alive and well" call with the lawyer (who we'd met previously). 

Because of the time difference, this happened right during the dinner rush before mutual. Andrew was just getting out of class, I was in the middle of making dinner, and we were trying to figure out how everyone was going to get to mutual (Andrew was recently called as a teacher's quorum leader so now he goes to mutual as well). Still, we found a few minutes to sit down and hop on a call with the lawyer, verify all our information as correct (for money transfers and taxes and so forth), and then we went on our merry way. 

Alive and well, having made it through most of September 15. 

Rachel, meanwhile, had been having a rough morning and still had much of September 15 ahead of her.

She had gone to get a few vaccines the day before and woke up feeling very sore and rather overwhelmed. 

Andrew and the kids came home from mutual, we put the little kids to bed, and then Benjamin and Miriam settled in to watch Inception (for Miriam's propaganda class) while Andrew and I sat down to hype up Rachel. We talked with her for a while, did our best to make her laugh, and motivated her to do a few of the "adulting" things she still needed to do before her mission started. 

And then we had to get ready for bed because her 7-hour countdown to being set apart for a missionary was also our 7-hour countdown of how long we could possibly sleep before getting up to be present for her setting part (9 PM for her, 6 AM for us). 

We did not get 7 hours of sleep...but we did eventually go to bed.

And we mostly got up to watch Rachel be set apart. 

We decided to not wake Phoebe up, in part because...she's just a force to be reckoned with and once she's up, she's up. It seemed silly to wake her up for this when we could just...leave her sleeping. So we...didn't wake her up. 

If a tree falls on your house but no one is around to hear it...does it still make a sound?

Well, it finally happened! Our house got hit by a tree.

Fortunately it wasn't a very big tree, but we will need to have that gutter replaced.

Luckily, our real estate agent called someone for us.

Snow and studying and stuff

I remembered and then forgot and then remembered and then forgot and then remembered...that our library books were due soon and that we needed to go to the library this week.

It's supposed to snow tomorrow morning. I got an email that the temple was closed tomorrow. And then I got a notification that Gwinnett Public Libraries would be closed tomorrow as well...which helped me remember that we needed to go to the library today. 

So we gathered up the books and waited for Daddy to get home from campus so that he could be around to help with the oven (Benjamin had banana bread going), but we ended up taking the banana bread out just as Andrew got home.

I debated waiting until it was time to take Benjamin to swim practice, but while I knew I'd be brave enough to exit the library parking lot turning right during rush hour (the direction needed to go home), there was no way I'd be able to turn left during rush hour (the direction needed to pick Benjamin up). 

So I just left with the kids and we decided Miriam would take Benjamin later. And no one would have to turn left out of the library parking lot during rush hour. 

Andrew closed the garage door for us. 

And that was that. Zoë, Alexander, and Phoebe had a great time choosing books. 

Phoebe wanted to check out all the early readers, and that was fine with me (except that I only let her check out as many as she could carry, which was twelve...not all of them). She's been somewhat disinterested in reading lessons lately. While she can read through the stories without much trouble it takes her ages to get through the word banks. She just doesn't like doing it, drags her feet, makes it last forever. 

Zoë was similar, Andrew reminded me...kind of. 

When I was talking to him about Phoebe's...behaviour...he asked me how many kids managed to make through the whole book. 

"Well, Rachel, as we all know, couldn't get through five lessons," I said (she hated it that much). "That made Miriam determined to get through the whole book...because she's Miriam. Then Benjamin had to go through the whole book—but in a different way—because he's Benjamin. And then...Alexander made it through the whole book, too. He was very proud about finishing in a very Alexander way. But I know there was someone who didn't finish the book because they just didn't want to...but who still got pretty far. Like they learned all the basics and then were like...yeah, no, thank you. Who was that?"

"Uhhh...Zoë?" Andrew said. 

"Right! Zoë!"

How could I forget Zoë? She was the one who got through the basics and then was like...meh. 

And Phoebe seems to be following that path. So, we'll keep reading stories together. And maybe we'll revisit the reading lesson book. And maybe we won't. 

Either way, here is Phoebe with her dozen stories all lined up:

Squirrel! In the attic! (Again!)

A few years ago we got some squirrels in our attic—flying squirrels, we were told. They chewed into the attic through the window frame of the kids' bedroom in the back. Pesky things.

We had a pest control company come out and inspect the attic. They set out some "excluders" (a one-way trap door that allows the squirrels to exit but not return) and then put some mesh paneling around all the possible entrances (that they could figure) into the attic. 

We had our handyman come out and fix up some siding, replace the frame around the kids' window, etc., and so forth. 

It was expensive...and a bit of a headache. 

We managed to keep them at bay for a while, but do you know what a determined squirrel can do in a short amount of time? A whole lot of damage, that's what!

All that is to say that I heard a squirrel in the attic the other day. I told Andrew about it and he called pest control right away. Because we already know what they can do in a short amount of time. 

So, they came out and installed an excluder on the gable vent above our bedroom, but the silly squirrel would not use that as an exit and instead went on a rampage through the attic trying to find an alternative exit. We could hear it scrambling all over creation. 

It finally decided the gable vent over the garage was a promising exit and promptly chewed through not one but two slats of our vent...and still wasn't able to get out because of the mesh installed previously (which you can see an angry squirrel had tried digging away previously—that's precisely how they got into the gable above the bedroom...by clawing away at the wood and squeezing under the mesh):

If you give a parent a paintbrush...

They'll* run to the store to grab just the shade of grey you wanted. To be safe—they'll grab two cans! 

Nonrefundable, of course (because once you tint it, it's yours).

Then they'll* decide they need some white paint to redo the trim. They'll* quickly grab a can and then rush home. 

When they've finished painting the room grey, they'll** realize they have 1.25 cans leftover. That will start them*** thinking about what else they could possibly paint that same colour. 

But they** still have the trim to paint, so they'll** break out the white paint and get to work. 

When they're** finished painting, the parent* (who went to the store to get the paint but didn't help do any of the painting because they had to finish grading so they could submit grades by the deadline) will ask if the painting parent** can simply repaint the banister as well...since the paint is out. 

So they'll** paint the banister. And then they'll** rinse out their paintbrush.

Before and after

Benjamin's walls have successfully been transformed from a light grey and what-were-you-thinking purple... 

Nothing personal

While Rachel and Miriam have been "across the pond," we've been having a fine time here at home.

On Monday morning last week, Zoë came home from swim team practice and immediately began making cookies. She's determined to learn how to bake...and whipped up some delicious oatmeal raisin cookies...while wearing an apron over her still-damp swimming suit. 

Surprise...surprise!

"You're going to want to sit down for this..." the plumber said on the phone to Andrew last night. 

Our water heater had stopped working. The plumber asked what year our water heater was installed. 

"2005..." Andrew said, and that's when he was told to sit down. 

Evidently the life of a water heater is not typically so long. The recommendation: a new water heater. 

Of course. 

So the plumber came this morning and he was like, "Wow! I haven't seen you guys in a long time!"

And I was like, "Thank goodness for that!"

It's been about two years since our last plumbing emergency. Our plumber laughed and said, "Yes—plumbers, dentists, lawyers...all people you never really want to see!"

So, as of today we have a brand new water heater. It's smaller than our old one (which was massive—75 gallons), but is function (which is helpful for running a household of this size). The price tag was a bit of a yikes (which is why we downsized) but, you know, we were living on borrowed time with that thing, I guess. 

These surprising and costly fixes are...getting a little less surprising as time wears on. 

Take a look, it's in a book

It rained all day yesterday and it's been raining all day today. And so of course...we have discovered new leaks in our house.

We literally have people on the roof spreading a tarp right now. Water is coming down in front of the front door, too. Like on the outside of our house. But, like, it's a covered porch so that really shouldn't be happening. So mostly I just want to cry. 

This house has been at once perfect for our family and also a complete nightmare. 

And I don't really want to talk about it right now. 

So instead I will tell you that today I sat Phoebe down for her first formal reading lesson. Don't worry; it's a very gentle program. We start with sounds and word games. She had a lot of fun. 

But first she cried. 

YOYO*...oh, no.

Our dishwasher broke this week (because...why not?). 

Was I grateful for that dishwasher? Immensely. 

Was it my favourite dishwasher in the world? Not remotely. 

So when we got an estimate for how much it would cost to fix it versus how much it would cost to simply get a new machine...guess what we went with. 

Is that environmentally friendly? I honestly don't think so. 

Do I know why manufacturers make machines that aren't easily repairable? Absolutely not.

I mean, I understand that it ultimately means more money for them, but it really feels like it would be better for everybody if these things were simply...easy to repair. 

*****

We're about a month into the semester and things are heating up. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday is once again an absolute marathon. 

The dishwasher broke on Monday—and for once not after I had touched it last (both the stove and the washing machine died after I touched them last but the dishwasher is not on me!). 

On Tuesday (my long day on campus), Andrew ordered pizza for dinner.

On Wednesday we had leftovers.

On Thursday we had leftovers.

On Friday our new dishwasher was delivered and installed and...we had leftovers.

The basement!

After two solid months of being in flux, I'm pleased to announce that our basement is finally ready for action. We have things more or less as we'd like them in both the "main room," storage room, and "LEGO room." We sorted through nearly everything we had down there, gifted a lot of things on the Buy Nothing Group (including—fortuitously—a box full of broken dollhouse furniture that I had weeded out from our collection; I was all set to throw it away when I saw someone asking for dollhouse furniture for a diorama their child had to make for school so I sent them a picture of what I had (broken bits and all) and they said they'd take it!), threw out some things that had outlived their usefulness and...we're quite pleased with the results.

Here's a view of the main room (looking toward the stairwell):

I noticed that during the saddest and most troublesome times of my life, there was only one set of footprints...

The last thing our contractor did this week was paint the exterior boards he had to replace on the side of the house. Evidently he spilled a not-insignificant quantity of paint on the ground, which Andrew knew about, and which Andrew warned the children to keep away from. 

I'm sure you can see where this story is going.

For the record, I did not know about this spill or I may have done more than warn the children to keep away from it. I also may not have done much more...we've been so exhausted this week, staying up until 3 or 4 in the morning working on the basement. 

On Friday night the girls—who are finally back at our house after spending three weeks at Grandpa's house—had a fire night with their friends. When their friends went home, Andrew and I roped them into helping us finish putting carpet in the unfinished portion of the basement. They weren't terribly happy about this, since they had planned on showering and going to bed, but they were good helpers nonetheless. 

In order to put the carpet down we had to move furniture, roll the carpet padding out, roll the carpet out, move furniture onto the carpet we had just rolled out, roll the carpet padding out, roll the carpet out...until the room was carpeted. 

Although the carpet was more ore less rectangular, there was more cutting and taping involved than I'd like to remember. We must have put the carpet padding in sideways or something because we had to cut so much of that. Anyway...

Moving furniture

October has been a whirlwind. We've mostly been keeping busy moving furniture and moving furniture and moving furniture.

First we moved everything out of the girls' room and away from the wall in the storage room so the basement could be waterproofed. When the drywall was up in the storage room we started to piece the storage room back together, though it's still quite a cumbersome mess since all the stuff from the girls' room is in there as well. 

Last night Andrew and I moved all the furniture in the LEGO room so that we could lay down the old carpet from the girls' room in the LEGO room (we can't reuse their carpet for their room because the footprint of their floor has changed—they have a closet now and we had to take out some of the built-ins). And then we moved the furniture back onto the carpet we just put down. And then we moved all the furniture from the "main room" into the LEGO room so that we can repaint in there. 

That doesn't sound like a lot once it's all written out. I think what's overwhelming is knowing we have to move everything back to where we ultimately want it (and need to finish putting carpet in the LEGO room).

Our own downfall

We are not precisely early risers over here. 

I mean, sure—Rachel and Miriam attend early morning seminary, so they get up early, but they ride with Grandpa (who is one of their seminary teachers), and thus the rest of us—thankfully—do not have to get up early. I know I spend a lot of time fussing about my poor sleepers because...I've had a lot of those. My children simply take a long time to wind down and fall asleep at night, and then also wake up several times throughout the night, but they've also never (or at least have rarely) been the type of children to want to start the day at 5:00 in the morning. 

All this is to say that we were relieved on Tuesday evening to realize that we didn't have to wake up early to meet the construction crew on Wednesday. Full disclosure: Andrew had been waking up to meet them while Phoebe and I slept. So Andrew was particularly excited for Wednesday morning. 

"Hey! I don't have to wake up early!" he said.

And so he stayed up late working. And when Andrew stays up late working, he really stays up late working. He's a night owl and is often most productive at night. As an eccentric professor, this is his...priveledge.

So it was particularly disappointing when, shortly before 7:30 in the morning, we were roughly awakened by the sound of gas-powered motors roaring to life, seemingly right outside our window. I tried to ignore it and go back to sleep for a few precious moments more (I even put my earplugs in), but then another motor started up, and another, and another. 

And then there was a rather big thud.

"The neighbours must be having some trees removed," I thought to myself. "But...why start this early?!"

Tree-cutting crews don't normally begin work that early for...obvious reasons. 

Oddly, the thudding continued. 

"It sounds like someone is walking around on our roof!" I mused aloud.

My tired brain slowly came to the realization that someone was walking around the roof. Our gutter/roof cleaning company must have been paying us a visit!

"Aren't they supposed to give us advanced notice?" I moaned.

"Technically they texted me at 6:00 this morning," Andrew said, putting his phone down. 

So thus it was that our day began a little earlier than expected yesterday morning, after staying up a little too late the night before. But I suppose it was the staying up late that was our own downfall.

*****

When we were flying home from Canada, our flight our of Calgary was delayed by about 5 hours, which wasn't a terrible thing in and of itself, but waiting for that flight would have caused us to also miss our connecting flight home. I called the airline and worked things out, but it meant that our departing flight was an hour earlier than originally scheduled (resulting in a bit of a race to get to the airport in time) and our flight back into Atlanta would be a little later than originally scheduled.

So, here we are snarfing some Tim Hortons for breakfast in the Calgary airport (surprisingly inexpensive airport food):

See what I meant? (See: wet cement)

Our basement was finished midway through the day. Andrew went down to verify that they'd done all the contracted work, wrote them out a check, and the workers went on their merry way. 

Phoebe thought this was a very good thing because earlier in the morning they gave her a good fright!

She had enjoyed watching the workers through the window. We talked about how they were loading up rocks to take into the basement, and that they were helpers—that sounds great, right? They were strangers, but they were helpful strangers, and seemed to just be working in the yard. So that's fine. 

And then—while I was upstairs working and the kids were downstairs work and even Phoebe was downstairs playing—one of the men came upstairs to ask if he could use the restroom. There's a restroom in the basement, but it had been cordoned off behind plastic worksheets and a veritable barricade of furniture. I told him that he was, of course, welcome to use our restroom, and showed him where it was (right across the hallway).

Phoebe took this interaction poorly, and I don't blame her.

How do visitors—particularly strangers—usually announce their presence at our home? 

They knock or ring the bell at the front door and then we get to decide whether to allow them entrance or whether we'll send them away. 

Not so today! 

Today a man she'd never met in her life simply materialized in the hallway—the horror!

She was nervous for pretty much the rest of the day, very clingy, very "uppy, uppy, uppy!"

I took her to watch the workers through the window and reminded her again that they are our special helpers and that she doesn't need to be afraid anymore. But...she's just a clingy kid, so that conversation did little to soothe her nerves.

Anyway, let's see...

Here are a couple of pictures Andrew took from the stairs showing the progress of the trench the workers dug in our basement floor:

A study on curly-hair bed-head

Workers showed up early this morning to dump a (literal) ton of gravel onto our driveway, along with a billion other tools and supplies, so they could start fixing our leaky basement. It was also garbage and recycling day, so there were trucks going up and down the street—beeping, clanging, lifting, dumping, compacting...

Phoebe found this all very interesting.

 

Holding down the fort

Andrew, Andrew, Andrew...you had one job to do while I was away. 

One. Job.

I asked him to hold down the fort. That's it! 

And just look at this mess!

I knead this to be over!

The kids and I were sitting at the table having lunch and discussing Shakespeare (we're reading A Comedy of Errors at the moment) this afternoon when we heard Andrew say from the kitchen, "Alexa, how much time is left on the timer?"

We knew he had dough proofing in the oven; he'd planned to make pretzels for dinner. 

His pretzels are the best.

"You have two minutes remaining on your ten minute timer," Alexa told him.

"UGH!" he moaned. 

Everyone at the table exchanged looks. It's not usual for Andrew to be so emotional.

"Pretty sure you'll survive two minutes," I said, my voice dripping with fake sympathy.

"But I'm so tired!" he huffed. 

Everyone at the table exchanged looks again. Because literally what was his plan at...noon. Nap time?

Now, this is rich coming from a lady who treasures an afternoon nap with her toddler nearly every day. I see that. But, like, seriously, Andrew doesn't usually nap in the middle of the day. And would two minutes really throw off any napping plans that he evidently had? 

He can be so weird sometimes!

*****

The Cursèd Bathroom

We have come to the conclusion that our hallway bathroom is officially cursed. 

When we bought the place, we knew we'd have to redo the bathroom floor. We still haven't done that, but we knew that we would have to do so eventually. The tiles are all just falling apart. 

For a while the shower was leaking into the basement, but we got that fixed.

And then the upstairs bathroom fell into the hallway bathroom (both bathrooms were cursed, honestly).

And then most recently we found out that we'd screwed our towel rack into a pipe in the wall. 

As we stand, our ceiling has "naked" drywall up (to replace all the drywall that fell down when the upstairs collapsed into the downstairs), the tile floor is completely cracking up, and we have a couple of lovely holes cut into our wall. 

Well, today, Zoë was washing her hands and...water started running out of the bathroom cabinet and streaming all over the floor. 

The sink pipes have completely corroded and just...popped apart! 

To fix it, I think we'll have to do something like this (which doesn't look too complicated):

For now we just have a big "OUT OF ORDER" sign taped to the faucet. 

When is a $30 towel rack a $600 towel rack?

We came home from Utah to a leaky basement and ten billion fruit flies in the kitchen. 

Finding the cause of the fruit fly problem was relatively quick and easy—we'd left a singular banana on the kitchen counter. And then let it sit in the house for three weeks. So...fruit flies. 

We're still battling them a bit, but they're much better controlled than they were when we first arrived home. They were everywhere. Why did we leave a solitary banana to rot on the counter? I'm sure I had planned on feeding it to Phoebe with breakfast, or something. And then didn't.

Much like the cucumbers in the fridge that I had meant to prepare to take with us...and then didn't...

Anyway, the fruit fly problem was easy to diagnose. The drip? Not so much.