Raise the roof, I didn't get the flu. Also, morning sickness has abated to the point where I no longer wish to die. I am still wicked tired in the morning, but I have discovered that once I get the boy up and fed, I can turn the tv on and go back to sleep on the sofa whilst he watches Special Agent Ohso (he's 'Ohso Special'), Mickey Mouse Clubhouse ('Come inside, it's fun inside!), Handy Manny (who knew 'Fez' from That 70s Show was doing cartoon voices now?) and The Imagination Movers (They 'had a problem, but they figured it out/that's what the movers are all about!'). I draw the line at Jungle Junction which appears to be about animals with wheels instead of legs. This strikes me as an idea someone had while on a mood-altering psychotropic of some kind so...no. If nothing else it gets me off my lazy ass and out of the family room. I even occasionally indulge in such things as 'cleaning' or 'laundry', though rarely.

I am even writing a teeny bit, which feels incredibly good although I am not actually accomplishing much. Still, it's a pleasure to open the document and look at the words with the theoretical objective of adding to them. For no good reason whatsoever I have picked up a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fic that I started back in 2005. I reread it, was surprised to discover that it didn't completely suck and I figured what the hell. I'm in the mood for a bit of Spuffy goodness...though at the rate I am currently writing the new baby will be in highschool before I finish it. Oh well, it's the journey, right?

It has been a shitty couple of weeks. Morning sickness has kept me horizontal approximately 90% of the time. The other 10% is devoted to feeding/clothing/maintaining Jack. The poor kid has watched more television in the last three weeks than he had the rest of his life prior combined.

I finally went to the doctor last week and got to see the baby's heartbeat on sonogram which was way cool. He also gave me some suggestions to battle the M/S as well as a prescription just in case nothing else worked. Yesterday I finally caved and bought the prescription so naturally today I felt pretty much my normal self...which figures. I guess I've got it now if I need it at least.

So today I am feeling a lot better, the sun is out, birds are singing...and then Steve comes home from work sick...with the flu. 'Well damn', say I, 'now I'll have to take care of Jack AND him. Oh well, at least Jack and I both got the flu vaccine so we should be fine and hey, I feel better today!'. And then I get the phone call from Steve's coworker/typhoid Mary who spread the flu around the office: He has H1N1. Fuuuuuuuuck. Jack and I both got the REGULAR flu vaccine, not the one for H1N1. Again I say: Fuuuuuuuuck.

I'm not a huge alarmist about stuff like this generally. I mean I *know* that H1N1 is no different than the regular virus in terms of how sick it makes you. I also know, however, that it takes a different freaking vaccine. If I have to deal with being pregnant, having the flu, having a husband with the flu and having a two-year old with the flu. I am going to be Seriously Pissed Off. Gah!

I am nauseous. My kid is sick. I haven't showered in two days and Jack threw up on me this morning while I was changing a rank diaper.

You know you envy my sexy life.

On a sort of fangirly high-note, I found out last night that there is a tie-in novel to my current favorite TV show, Castle. The main character (in case you aren't in the know and if not then WHY for heaven's sake? That show is freaking awesome. Also, Nathan Fillion!) is a mystery writer named Richard Castle who in the context of the show has just released a book called Heat Wave. The tie-in novel apparently *is* the book just published on the show and is written by, of course, Richard Castle. It's a cute little marketing ploy and yes, I am so going to buy it.

...assuming of course I am ever physically cabable of leaving my house again.

I took Jack on a short trip into DC yesterday. Aside from the Metro ride, which he loved, he was not otherwise impressed. It was a beautiful day however and perfect for moseying around monuments and museums.

I learned three important things yesterday.

1) it is never a good idea to take a two year old to the Holocaust museum. The museum itself is stunning and heart-breaking and though I did manange to avoid sobbing hysterically, there were more than a few rooms that made me want to. Jack even behaved himself pretty well, but he was also *really* bored and spent the majority of the time chit-chatting loudly about Thomas the Train, which kind of kills the solemnity of the experience, so we kept our tour short for the sake of all of the other visitors.

2) Successfully parking and/or driving in DC requires an advanced degree in both transportation physics and abnormal psychology. It is insane. These people commute 2 hours each way in bumper to bumper traffic every. single. day. I cannot comprehend a maintained level of frustration and irritation of that magnitude.

3) I have the ( the cutest little boy in the world )

Not that I am biased or anything...

Leaving tomorrow for the annual-ish get together with kellyann06 and dmacabre. I have a two day stopover at my parent's house to abandon the boy before I actually fly out, but after that it's freeeeeeeedoooooooom! No husband and no kid for seven whole days...I may never return.

Last year us three party animals closed down the Dallas Ikea. Who knows what kind of crazy mischief we might get into this year! Doughnuts and sushi have been discussed at length and I think we are going to do some hiking as well...considering the former, the latter is probably a darn good idea.

At some point in the very near future I have GOT to finish my labyrinth_ex submission. I actually wrote the whole thing before the move (yay me!), but I have yet to do any revision...which it is desperate need of. Guess I'll have to put aside the Labyrinth multi-chapter fic I've been working on forever as well as the Music Man plot bunny that has taken up residency in my brain and refused to leave. This is the first time I have ever gotten myself into a position where a mod could slap me around in person...guess I know what I'll be doing during my layover!!

I am such a sucker for a well done romantic movie. I'm not sure I can really specify what makes it 'well done' even by my own standards, I just know it when I see it. My all time favorite is of course the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice. Seriously, if you can get through that movie without grinning and squeeing like a twelve year old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert then you have no soul.

There are several others in my DVD case that I keep on hand for whenever the craving hits and today I dug into one of my absolute favorite childhood movies, The Music Man. Yes, that's right, The Music Man is one of my favorite romantic movies. And OF COURSE I am talking about the REAL version made back in 1962 with Robert Preston and Shirley Jones and not that POS that Matthew Broderick put out back in 2003 (I rank that crap right up there with the basterdization that Johnny Depp made of my beloved Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory - not worthy of my time).

I am capable of some pretty hardcore fangirling, but even *I* realize how bizarre it is to ship Harold Hill/Marion Paroo. It's a musical for crying out loud, but that's just how my brain works so there you have it. I place the blame squarely on Robert Preston. He's right up there with Clark Gable and Orson Wells (yes, I know, but I loved him in Jane Eyre which I saw when I was young and impressionable so shut-up) on my list of dead guys about whom I still squee. At the end of the movie when he's handcuffed and all disheveled and ( that little lock of hair has fallen over his forehead... )

Oh hell maybe it's just me. Somebody stage an intervention.

If you've seen the movie and are easily amused, check out The Music Man Condensed by Morfiwien Greenleaf. Because yes, yes there is Music Man fanfic.

Frickity frickity frick.

Life as I know it is OVER.

Jack learned how to climb out of his crib today.

Frick!

I don't post 'cuz I've got nothing much to post about. I have unpacked, organized and gotten to know the town, but that's about the extent of my scintillating existence right now.

I am not unhappy, I'm not even bored exactly...more boring than anything else, I guess. Jack is wearing me out on a regular basis, but in a good, healthy, 2 year old boy kind of way. We joined the local pool/fitness center with the neat 0-entry toddler pool, play area and lazy river (for $3 a visit, how cool is that?) so that's gotten me through a few days, organizing the basement has gotten me through the rest. It's unfinished, but we are still trying to make it a usable play/workout/reading/storage area, which it is plenty big enough for, but my OCD-self is having a hard time with all of those utilities converging on one another so I keep moving things.

I have posted a couple of drabbles over at labyfic (here and here) which has been a nice exercise. I finished my labyfic_ex piece in plenty of time before the move, but haven't had the time or inclination to do much else since then. They're only 100 word drabbles, but even that feels like a nice warm-up to get me back into working on other stuff. I may not ever be a published author, but I have discovered that I must keep writing or all my story ideas bang around in my head all the time and keep me awake at night.

We are homeowners once more! I've had a few child-free days (thank you, Nana!) to unpack and arrange and it's finally starting to look like a place that people live and not just a storage facility for random, well-worn furniture. It's going to be a while before we are settled in and I am nearly 100% positive that there are at LEAST two more crying jags in my future before I adjust to the new digs, but overall I am happy with it. The house is amazing, the neighborhood is nice and the town is just great. I can't get over how incredibly pleasant everyone seems. That's just unnatural if you ask me, but they all seem pretty happy so I guess it can't be all bad. Maybe it's something in the water.

I am taking the boy back to NoVA with me tomorrow and then we will FINALLY be one full fledged, centrally located, nuclear family again! W00T!

Right now, however, I am recovering from three solid days of non-stop unpacking and hauling and furniture moving so I am going the hell to bed. Peace.

( Tonight is my last night in this house )

In an attempt to distract myself from all the emo and avoid all the work I need to be doing, I have turned to a well loved and long neglected fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer. How anyone can prefer Twilight's SparkleMotion vamps to Joss Whedon's ass-kicking, snark-wielding, dead-sexy vampires, I just do not know. I miss the Scooby gang, I miss Sunnydale and I really really miss Spike. Ah fanfic, how I love thee...

If anyone knows of any awesome post-Not Fade Away Spuffy reunion fics, please lob them in my direction. kthnx.

I have NO idea what I was thinking signing up for the labyrinth_ex exchange this time around. I suspect incipient hysteria. That said, I love my prompts and am four pages into my fic offering so maybe I just needed something other than real estate to focus on.

( Since all the cool kids are doing it... )

Oh and the house dealie is all worked out. Assuming neither my existing nor prospective houses fall into a previously undiscovered sinkhole, we should be golden. Closing date on this house: June 30th. Closing date on the new digs: July 17th.

Ohx2 I am going radio silent this weekend since we are turning in our cable box. Will be back on the intarwebs HOPEFULLY by the 27th assuming my FIL can get me jacked into their wireless. *praying*

We are having problems securing the offer on the house in Warrenton. Frickity-frick-frick. The issue appears to be that the house is actually owned by the relocation company that is moving the current residents not the residents themselves and since it's just one of many for them, they quite frankly don't give a damn. We need to show proof that the people who are buying our house are legitimately locked into a contract to sell THEIR house. This seems a bit far removed to me since the buyers of OUR house are in no way obligated to helping us buy ours. My knees are getting sore from jumping through all of these hoops.

Sigh. It's a good thing I believe God is in control because otherwise I'd be tearing my hair out right about now.

So yes, the lowballing house hunters of yesterday took a nice long sleep on our counteroffer (10K more than they were offering *snort* please) and decided we weren't complete morons and that the house was worth it (it is, by the way; I watch an *awful* lot of HGTV). They came back today accepting our counteroffer and as of this evening all the pages are signed and held breaths are being let out all around. Our realtor of course is THRILLED because she had to put in less than a weeks worth of effort on our listing and gets the same cut she would have gotten had she spent six months on it. I guess this one worked out well for everyone!

The only down side to this deal is that the new peeps need to be IN the house by the end of this month. As in the 30th. As in 20 days from now. A closing normally takes 30-45 and we get to do it all in 20. Yay? What makes this a down side is that I presently have no where to live at the end of those 20 days. Thankfully, hubby's new company is paying for the move which includes up to a month of storage so our stuff will have a place to call home even if I and the boy do not (hubby has a short term lease in an apartment since he already works up there - the boy and I will not fit).

I am heading up to NoVA on Friday to do some house hunting and try in a VERY short period of time to figure the area out so I know where is a good place to live and where is ghetto that I should not approach after dark. These are not necessarily things that are obvious on first blush. Once that is established I have to find a house that 1) we like and B) we can afford. This is going to be the ultimate test of fiscal restraint. Wish us luck!

We got an offer on our house today. We're doing that obnoxious back and forth game of psychological ping pong that goes with offloading real estate and I gotta say; I'm not a fan. We priced our house to sell in order to avoid these silly games and still the offer came in at $15,000 under our asking price. $15,000! Gah! We gave a little bit of ground and countered a couple of times, but it didn't get settled tonight like we had hoped it would. I guess the prospective buyers are going to sleep on it and get back to us in the morning.

Someone make a note and remind me to NEVER move again, m'kay?

Hubby starts his new job tomorrow which means he is out of town Sunday evening through Friday night every week until we manage to sell this house and buy another one on the other end. Suck.

Fortunately I have a ton of packing, painting, reorganizing, decorating, cleaning and panicking to do so I should have plenty to keep me busy. The realtor comes on Friday to let me know how much little we can hope for in this lovely market and to let me know how much MORE work I get to add to me 23 page to-do list. Keeping track of the two year old speed demon in the midst of all this is the epitome of relaxing, let me tell you. *iz exhausted*

On that note. I am going to bed.

Went to Disney.

Came back exhausted and fat.

Started packing.

What have YOU been up to?

There is a psychotic bird living in the exhaust box of my gas fireplace.

Birds often nest there, though why they choose to do this is beyond me since it is right off of our back deck so we freak them out about 30 times a day just by opening our door. They fly off and scream at us from the neighbors trees when Jack is playing in his pool too. It's quite musical.

Now for some reason the bird keeps flying up to the big second story windows in our family room and flapping up against the glass. I'm talking like 20 times a day, no exaggeration. I don't know if it's seeing a reflection and trying to protect its nest or what, but the damn thing startles the hell out of me all day long.

I wonder if we have to disclose this to the realtor?

At 6 PM...on Friday...while we were on the interstate in West VA heading for a wedding rehearsal. Not leaving it 'til last thing, were they?

All the crap waiting aside, we are thrilled. The offer came through and was more than fair and that means that after six long months, hubby is once again among the working. The job starts the end of this month, well before the house will be ready to sell so he'll be spliting his time between NoVA and here until I can get casa de Tallulah ready and sold.

My GOD have I got a lot of painting to do.

Thanks to all of you for being supportive and putting up with my absence and occasional surly posts while we waited for this situation to resolve itself. Hopefully now that part of my stress has been settled I will be able to crawl out of my self-induced seclusion and once again be my usual sociable and gregarious self.

They have still not fucking called and I am so overwhelmingly pissed off I can't see straight. I am stressed, hubby is stressed, we can't concentrate on a damn thing other than waiting for the phone to ring. Everyone around us is holding their breaths to see if they are supposed to congratulate or comfort and God only knows what these douche bags are waiting for. We keep hearing through hubby's recruiter that everything is fine, they just have administrative issues and blah-de-blah-blah, but this is getting stupid. It has been THREE GODDAMN WEEKS since they told us he was going to get an offer. THREE.

Hubby did contact the HR people himself and got an email back from them saying they were sorry that it was taking so long, they just need a little more time. Yeah, that was TWO weeks ago.

Good fucking grief.