One step closer: Selling Lester's house

Miracles of miracles -- we are under contract on Lester's house in D.C.!

After our first date, Lester and I came here to this house and stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, talking about any and everything. Our first date was June 2, 2006 -- exactly 8 years ago today.

I don't know if we under-priced it or if we priced it just right, but we put the house on the market on Tuesday, and we had three offers by Thursday and a signed contract on Saturday. Whoa!

We're not going to make a ton of money, especially after all the seller's fees and paying off the mortgage and whatever taxes we have to cough up, etc. But selling this house is just one step on the road to getting out of our crappy neighborhood and into a better one, out of our teeny house and into a bigger one.

We have many, many, many steps left to go -- not the least of which is that both of us have to make more money. Considerably more. And we all know that better-paying jobs aren't falling off of trees these days. So, we're not really close to moving. But we're closer.

Selling the house also comes at another huge cost for Lester, because this house is the house he lived in since birth. He and his mother -- his first and closest friend -- shared so much in this house; it's the backdrop for most of his childhood memories, both good and bad. I could say a lot more about what this house means to him, but it's his story to tell, not mine, and so much of the story is hugely personal and tangled with mixed emotions.

So it means so much to me that, in order to help move our family forward, my husband is willing to part with this house that has helped to shape so much of who he is. 

And it also makes me feel even closer to his mother -- a woman I never got the chance to meet -- for her role in our family's future. She raised the man of my dreams here in this house. She left this house to him when she died. Because of this house, my children -- her grandchildren -- will have a more comfortable home to live in someday.

And her legacy just goes on...

Tales of an overzealous Mom, volume 492

NOTE: This was supposed to post on Friday, but I forgot to hit "publish." Yay me! Birthday and Mother's Day post coming tomorrow!
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So my kids had a zoo trip Friday, which I couldn't go on, because of work. (Thank God Lester has a more flexible schedule!)

But I wanted to contribute something to the day, so I made sure to pack a delicious brown-bag lunch they'd love. For Dean, I went heavy on the jelly and light on the peanut butter. For Cary, both sides of the sandwich were spread with equal amounts of each. I made sure to include fruit snacks in with their grapes, because they think fruit snacks are candy. I found stickers of zoo animals and decorated their lunch bags with zebras, giraffes, tigers and toucans. And I made sure to freeze their fruit-and-veggie juice boxes overnight so they'd be nice and cold after hours of walking around the zoo.

Here's a photo Lester took of the boys having their lunch. Look closely. Dean is JUST about to be frustrated. And thirsty.

Because. The juiceboxes were still frozen.

For some reason, they gave the kids lunch at 10:45. Why? No one knows. If they'd eaten lunch at 12 or 12:30 like normal people, maybe there would have been more time for thawing.

But noooooo. 10:45.

The thing is, Lester said to me last night as I was packing the lunches to just put his water bottle and their juices in the fridge. That they'd be plenty cold. But did I listen? Noooo.

Instead, I imagined my kids -- tired from walking the miles and miles of the Baltimore Zoo, sweat rolling down their little temples from the hot sun -- taking that first, long sip of ice cold, refreshing juice and saying, "Man, that's cold. And so delicious. That Mom! She is the best! This sandwich is just right! These fruit snacks are such a treat! But this here cold juicebox? That just really takes the cake. We are so lucky!"

First of all, folks -- it's not even all that hot today. In fact, my poor boys are probably a little bit shiver-y in those shorts. (WHAT IS UP WITH THIS SPRING??) And they got to the zoo at 10 a.m., so I'm sure they weren't even close to being tired from walking around the zoo by the time the dinner bell rang at frikkin' 10:45 (in the MORNING).

So -- all my best-laid plans, thwarted. By too-early-lunches, chilly May days and not listening to my husband's suggestion.

Oh, and P.S. I made Lester a turkey sandwich with Monterey Jack cheese. Guess whose sandwich Cary wanted to eat? "I don't want peanut butter and jelly," he said. "I want a TURKEY sandwich."

Curses. Foiled again.

Big things poppin'....

The title of this post is an ode to my old-school days of (sometimes) listening to rap music, which I rarely do anymore, because my iPod has been taken over by Justin Roberts (thanks, Angel), Dan Zanes, Elizabeth Mitchell (thanks, Tahira), Elmo, Cookie Monster, Tag, Leap and Lily and a host of other shrill-voiced characters.

But once upon a time, T.I. rapped about "Big things poppin' and little things stoppin'..." and I did a little shoulder dance at my desk and felt cool. Today I still feel pretty cool, because of a few big things happening in my little family.

1. Clair is 15-months today! She is the most opinionated, cranky/cheerful child ever to live. She is going to be a force to reckon with, and I am just going to pray that she uses her powers for good.
She has 4 words: "ott" (for hot); "uh-oh"; "mama" and "dada." Most of the time, we are all dada -- even Cary and Dean. She has started occasionally saying "unh-unh" for no. But usually she just screams angrily at all of us all day long, and swipes and swats at us for some offense unknown to anyone but her. She climbs the stairs like a pro, but can't get down, and can get down off the sofa but can't get up. She has stranger anxiety like none other, and prefers me to anyone else in the world. This is sweet, somewhat, but you know...It'd be nice for other people to see her laugh and act silly instead of just cry and cling to me all the time. But I guess this will come. I hope it will. She is snuggly and sweet (when she wants to be) and loves, loves, loves to dance and read books. She is my absolute sweetie.

I need to take more photos of my silly sweetie!

 2. Cary and Dean have been practicing on their balance bikes!

I won't say who is doing a better job with the bikes so far, but this picture is an indication.

What's taking you so long???

One day this week at school drop-off, Dean climbed out of the car, went and stood by this tree and said, "Mommy, you have to take a picture." I don't know if this is for his secret Facebook page, or just what, but I called Cary over and did what I was told.

I have no idea why he needed this moment captured for all eternity.

 3. I have not done anything toward my goal of getting someone to accept my children's book idea, since getting rejection after rejection after rejection.

Thanks, "Submissions Department."

But I got this fortune in my cookie the other night when I brought home takeout for Lester and me after a loooong board meeting.

I wish it said, "Someone is going to publish your book." But I'll take what I can get.

 And now I think I will get back in the saddle! Must. Keep. Moving. Forward.

 4. Speaking of getting back in the saddle, Beth and Tam will be happy to know that I made an appointment to see my doctor and get my blood sugar, cholesterol, and Vitamin D levels tested. I go tomorrow morning! So yay for that.

5. And not to brag about my husband anymore, because seriously, it really is an embarrassment of riches, but I have to get down for history's sake the amazing 40 for 40 gift he gave me yesterday.

I came home from work feeling tired and sick and wanting to take Tylenol, hurry through the night's activities and go to bed. But Lester told me to get freshened up because we were going out! I honestly had to talk myself into getting excited, because I was just so beat down, but who can resist a man who is so incredibly sweet? So off to take a shower I went.
When I was ready, Lester went upstairs saying he was going to wash up and throw his clothes on. I stayed downstairs and played with the kids, when there was a knock on the door. I opened it and much to my surprise, my Dad was standing there! I thought HE was the babysitter and I immediately turned to ask Lester, "Are you insane?"
That's when I noticed that Lester was still in his shorts and T-shirt.
Turns out: He wasn't my date after all -- my Dad was!
Lester had gotten us tickets to see a play at Center Stage and arranged for my Dad to take off from teaching his evening class so he could go!
It was the SWEETEST thing! I still get all goosebumpy thinking about how he pulled that off. I was totally, 100-percent surprised.
And just when I thought it couldn't get any better -- he handed my Dad a card, which we read in the car. It was all about how Lester knows the close bond my Dad and I have and how much I miss talking to and spending time with him. He said in the note, "I thought I'd give you both the best gift I could think of: The gift of time together." And then, as if my mascara wasn't running enough already, he then wrote, "And Dad, I really hope that one day Clair and I have the same close relationship that you and Tanika have."

I swear, I think I saw a little tear in Dad's eye, too, after reading that card. (Admit it Dad, you cried a little!)

The night was a lot of fun. Dad and I really enjoyed the play (Beneatha's Place) and stayed out in the car afterward talking about any and everything until about 11:30!

This shirt dress looks much better when I stand up straight, I swear.

I came in the house and begged Lester not to give me anything else, because that was the ULTIMATE in my eyes. The ultimate! But he insists there's more. He keeps saying, "Babe, don't worry, these are small things!"

But this whole exercise has proven again and again that the small things mean the absolute most -- in case I ever forget.

Who needs big things poppin'...when the little things are this magnificent?

Pause to give mad props to my husband...

Every day for the last 10 days, I've gotten a gift from my husband.

Every even-numbered day, the gift has been a voice message that he recorded from one of my dearest friends or family members. He then took the voicemail, attached it to an email with his own little message, and sent it to me.

The first one - on May 4th - was from one of my closest friends, the woman I was supposed to visit in Atlanta, Neelofer. Her message made me cry (of course), because she started crying when she was talking, remembering how we met freshman year in college and how we've been a part of every big moment in each other's lives since, loving one another and caring for one another the way only best girlfriends can.

Lester's note, attached to the email, also made me cry. It was a quote I'm sure he found on the Internet, but it was so appropriate for her, and, actually, for so many of my other true friends.


"True friendship multiplies the good in life and divides its evils. Strive to have friends, for life without friends is like life on a desert island... to find one real friend in a lifetime is good fortune; to keep him is a blessing."  --- Baltasar Gracian

Other voice messages have been from my awesomely supportive friend Kelly; my oldest and dearest friend Desiree', who HATES doing that sort of thing, so I was so touched that she actually talked for almost 2 minutes; my sister Kadija, who wrote me a poem and cracked me UP; and my 96-year-old Granddad, who spoke for a grand total of 14 seconds. Here's what he said: "Happy birthday, Tanika. I hope you're having a lovely time. You are a lovely girl. Have fun. Granddad."

Ha!! Man of few words, that guy is.

On the odd-numbered days, Lester has given me some small gift, usually left in a conspicuous place, so I'll find it by surprise, or once he hand-delivered the gift to my office.

There's been a tube of chocolate-caramel balls, a Starbucks gift card, a gift bag of fancy ginger ales, THIS oh-so-sweet book:

Having Lester's support in everything I do means the world to me.

And the doozy of all doozies -- concert tickets to see my boo Justin Timberlake during the Legends of Summer Tour in August!!!! The concert tickets are spectacular, but even more impressive is the fact that Lester is going to go WITH me to the show! Let's just say he doesn't share my enthusiasm for JT.

But he does like that Suit-and-Tie song, and in fact, in the note card to me along with the gift, he paraphrased lyrics from it: "Here's to the woman who showed me a few things about love."

Awwww....(I also cried reading that one, of course.)

In between planning and executing all this gift-giving, Lester managed to participate 100-percent in the planning and executing of the boys' 3rd-birthday cookout, he's been holding it down with me at home while Michelle has been out sick, and he STILL managed to get me a Mother's Day gift (something small and sentimental I'd asked for a long time ago, before I knew he was doing this 40 for 40 thing.)

I've got 30 days (!!) left before my actual birthday, and I have NO idea how he's going to keep this thing going. He's pretty much touched on almost all of my sweet spots -- friends, family, chocolate. I keep wondering who else he recorded, what additional sweetness could possibly be coming. Besides a 3-lb. lobster dripping in lemon and butter, I don't know what else he can pull out of his hat.

A big part of me feels embarrassed by all these riches. But mostly I'm overwhelmed by his generosity, his thoughtfulness, his understanding of who I am and his amazing, amazing love.

In my 20s and early 30s, I made a lot of bad decisions when it came to romantic relationships. I suffered a lot of heartache and loneliness and even some outright humiliation at the hands of men who didn't measure up. I prayed and prayed that I'd one day be blessed to have a husband who'd love me the way I knew in my heart that I deserved to be loved. I knew I had to make better decisions when it came to choosing people to love. And I admit that I (finally, finally) made a good decision to date Lester, someone who was outside my "type," 9-years-younger and not a narcissistic commitment-phobe.

But I had no idea that the stars would line up the way they have. I thank God that He knew my heart would agree with my head on this one! And I'm so thankful, so grateful, so humbled to be Lester's wife, partner and friend.

When Lester quoted Baltasar Gracian (whoever that is) in the email when he sent Neelofer's voice message, it didn't occur to me at the time, but now I know, with absolute certainty, that the quote most aptly applies to him:

To find one real friend in a lifetime is good fortune; to keep him is a blessing.

Lester on dating

One of the reasons I started this blog was so the kids could have some insight into their parents' personalities, lives and thoughts -- some day when they're older and recognize that we are actually human beings and not just "parents."

Because it's my blog, meaning I'm the writer, Lester's perspective rarely gets top billing.

But he sent me an email last week that I really wanted to share here. I had to get his permission, because he's far more private than I am, and especially about stuff that goes on the Internet. He was initially reluctant -- "That email was meant for you." -- but I won him over.

There's nothing Earth-moving about it; it's just something sweet that I want the kids to know that their father was thinking about on a random January afternoon. Here's his email:

I recently read a New York Times story about how technology has hampered people in their teens and 20s when it comes to traditional dating.

A line from the story perfectly captures the problem: Instead of dinner-and-a-movie, which seems as obsolete as a rotary phone, they rendezvous over phone texts, Facebook posts, instant messages and other “non-dates” that are leaving a generation confused about how to land a boyfriend or girlfriend. 

This morning I was reading a Washington Post story about a man who gave President Obama a medal he received while fighting in Vietnam. The story was essentially about how this man (now 68) had an impact on the future President during that chance encounter nearly five years ago. But one paragraph in the story near the end brought me back to that previous story and made me sad because today's daters are just lame.

I really hope our boys are these type of daters:

Smith’s life outside of work came together nicely, as well. A brief early marriage had fallen apart. Then came one night when Smith saw two women stranded next to a broken-down car by the roadside.
Smith fixed their tire and was smitten by one of the women. “I told her, ‘Look, I know you don’t talk to strangers, but you seem to be a real nice lady. And I know you don’t give your number to strangers, but I’m going to give you my number, and tell you where I work and where I live, and if you foresee that you want to call me, maybe we could go have a cup of coffee or a cup of tea,’ ” he said.
It took Claudia Howard six months to phone. They have been married 32 years and have two grown children, a daughter and a son.
                                                         ******
Isn't that sweet? I hope the boys and Clair read this some day and think about a few things:

1. Their father had hopes for Cary and Dean about how they'll treat women.
2. This says something to all of them about how their father treated women.
3.  In the middle of the workday, he was thinking about them and their future.

Happy Birthday, Lester!

Happy Birthday to this guy:

The best friend, best father, best-looking-advertisement-for-a-well-tailored-suit, best decision I ever made! 

  
I won't say how old he is, but let's just say that the term "Grown 'n Sexy" officially applies to him now (although it's actually applied to him for years).

This morning, Cary and Dean serenaded him with "Happy Birthday to Daddy," standing in the bathroom in their footie pajamas. It was totally adorable and I'm pretty sure it's the best present he could have gotten!

(I say this because we're broke, so there aren't actually any REAL presents. Hopefully, he'll read this blog and be guilt-tripped into feeling immensely grateful for off-key toddler bathroom singing.)

:-)

Happy Birthday, L-Diddy! I love you!

Daddy's girl

All the trying I have been doing to convince myself that Clair looks like me has been shot to pieces.

By this photo:

 
Hello! These two are more twins than Cary and Dean.
 
Even this picture of me at 2-months-old, that my Mom found on a trip to Boston and texted to me with this message: "YOU = CLAIR!"  -- even this picture can't compare:
 

Yes, this is a Polaroid. Holla

Clair is Lester's baby, through and through. Head shape. Facial expressions. Ears. Eyebrows. Coloring. Set of the mouth.

It's all him.

The only thing she appears to have gotten from me is her social-bee personality. Let's hope she doesn't get in trouble at school for gabbing too much, like I did. :-)