My son is the most paranoid kid on the planet

It's true. Here is just a bit of proof.
1. He can't go to sleep without a night light and he must have something playing on the CD player.
2. He wakes up multiple times in the night to a) check on Grant and I to make sure we are still there and not dead and b) to turn the CD player back on.
3. If Grant or I go anywhere he badgers us mercilessly to state the exact amount of time we will be gone. We always refuse to answer such a ridiculous request. Then, after we are gone for about 10 minutes, he begins to badger the other parent. "Don't you think Dad should be back by now?" "Don't you think we should call Mom on the cell phone?"
4. If anyone in the family gets sick he is afraid they have cancer.
5. etc....

This is a trial for me because I am not a worrier. I have no patience for needless and fruitless worrying and it drives me bananas. It is apparently a family trait because his Smith grandparents are also worriers. They have worrying down to a science. Or an art. However you want to look at it. Their worrying also drives me bananas. But they are my in-laws and so they are allowed to be quirky. And plus I usually don't have to live in the same house with them. But Rune...his constant worrying, day in and day out, I don't know how to deal with!

Usually I deal with it badly.
Rune: Mom, when you take Lily to the dentist the roads might be slippery. Are you going to drive slowly? Because there might be black ice on the road and if you drive too fast you could crash. Are you going to take the cell phone? Is the number still xxx-xxxx? etc. etc.
Mom: No, I'm not going to drive slowly or carefully. First, I'm going to tear out of the driveway like a bat out of .... (sudden pause)
Dad: Out of a cave.
Mom: Yeah, like a bat out of a cave. (getting into the story) And I'm going to gun it all the way to the dentist and careen around the corners. (starts giggling) And I'm going to slam on the brakes when I get there and the van will slide to a stop just millimeters from the door.
Dad: And then she's going to rev the engine as loudly as she can. (makes loud revving noises)
Mom and Dad: (laugh hysterically at the image of me aggressively revving the Caravan engine outside the dentist office)
Rune: (the beginnings of a smile, but still looking worried) You're not really, are you?

And then sometimes I deal with it very badly.
Mom: Rune, if you keep worrying about everything all the time then all the unneeded stress will shorten your life span.
Rune: Mom! Don't tell me that! Now I have to worry about dying early if I don't stop worrying!

And trying to be reasonable doesn't help at all. If you have ever tried to reassure a worrier then you know that it is completely useless.
Mom: If something happened to Dad then the police or the hospital will call, so since we haven't heard anything then he's probably okay.
Rune: I know.
Mom: You know that worrying doesn't help anything. It can't prevent anything bad from happening.
Rune: I know.
Mom: You know that if you don't worry you will feel happier.
Rune: I know.
Mom: You know that Dad always drives carefully and, anyway, he has 4 wheel drive.
Rune: I know.
Mom: So there's no reason to worry and no point to it, okay? Let's be happy, okay?
Rune: Okay. But do you think we could call him on the cell phone?

Ah, Rune. My eleven year old worry wart. So full of worry and insecurity. And yet, at the same time, so brave and determined to forge ahead despite his fears.

I'm really proud of him, after all.

I feel sorry for myself again

because the house up the street, which has 4 beds, 2 baths, a .3 acre yard and irrigation rights recently went into forclosure and Grant's co-worker bought it for 65K. Ah well, such is life, right?

But on the bright side, one day in the future, at a distant family reunion, with grandkids listening raptly I will tell the tale of when we crammed ourselves into a one bedroom house and the awesome family togetherness it fostered. But not how I threatened the kids with death and mayhem EVERY night to go to sleep because they won't stop talking and giggling due to the fact that they are all the same room.

I felt sorry for myself

because my family of seven people are currently living in a one bedroom, one bathroom house.






But I've changed my mind. Suddenly, I feel very rich and blessed to have my one bedroom and one bathroom.

The ceiling just fell down.

Just kidding!

Ha Ha! I really, really, super hope someone fell for it. Especially Felipe!

Two posts a week

That's the challenge issued to me by my sister, who is both competitive and currently bored. It's okay. I like blogging. It makes me feel important and validated, like the whole whole world is the audience and I'm center stage. Never mind that a large chunk of the world does not have access to the internet. Or that the rest of the world that does have access to the internet doesn't care and just wants to be left alone and not bothered by my blog blathering. There is an atom of humanity that reads my blog (okay it's a hydrogen atom) and it makes me feel important and validated.

Now onto the subject that I need to feel validated about. My house remodel. It's extremely messy and disruptive. Not to mention costly. The plaguing question is: Will, in the end, I consider the money spent to be worth the extra space (the remodel in question is refinishing of basement and attic)? Or will, in the end, I consider that I should have just dealt with my small space for the 3-4 years we will live here and saved a bundle of money? Factor in the consideration that this house only cost 77K and my mortgage is only 300 per month. (There are some advantages to living in a rural area!) So the extra money not being spent in a large mortgage is being spent on a remodel instead of being saved. And the homebuyer tax credit will be spent on the remodel instead of being saved. Grant is all for the remodel because he likes to do that stuff and because he doesn't care how much money we spend on anything. I'm the tightwad around here and my tightwad cells are cringing right now. Of course, we bought so cheaply precisely because we calculated that we could expand our space for less money than buying a larger house. But after moving in I start to think, Hey, this isn't so bad. We can live in a two bedroom house for a few years and save X amount of money! Okay, I know you hydrogen atoms are shocked that I am cramming my family of 7 into a two bedroom house, but that's the addiction I have to saving money! But, this week, we have crossed the point of no return. A wall has been torn out, a structural beam is replacing it, and now we are down to one bedroom and Grant and I are sleeping in the living room. We may, occasionally have a privacy issue with that and so the remodel will go forth. And I will spend the next few months in a constant state of cringe at the money exiting the bank accounts.

But, Grant has given up Coke as a New Year's resolution (again) so I have a partner in misery. At least for a few weeks.