Live from the Village

Geez, the longer you stay away from blogging, the harder it is to return, eh? We're finally all settled in here at my parents' house, but I've found it difficult to get back into the blogging groove. I just don't have the computer time I used to, and my blogging alter ego (uh, Rimarama) has been uncharacteristically quiet here. It's like all she wants to do is eat popsicles, run through the sprinkler, and read Nancy Drew mysteries.

But the transition from hut to ancestral suburban three bedroom ranch has not been nearly as difficult as I'd expected. I don't want to jinx things, but so far, living here has been almost downright fun-ish. The kids cannot believe their luck at scoring a neverending sleepover, and I'm finding that it's true what they say about it taking a village to raise a child.

In the village, there is always someone around to talk with, lend a hand, help keep an eye on the kids. On the other hand, privacy is scarce and it can be more difficult to keep track of your offspring/keep your offspring on track here in the home of the bottomless sippy cup and never shrinking stash of Rolos doled out by my dad via the secret candy handoff technique.

However, the P-Dawg and I have been enjoying perks such as nightly walks together after J-dog and V-meister have gone to bed, as well as the occasional evening out on the town. The witching/dinner hour is not nearly as bad when you only have to cook every third night and someone else watches your kids while you do it. As an added bonus, my mom has been going in to get the J-dog when he wakes up at the crack of dawn, allowing me - notorious for my morning bee-otchiness - the luxury of an extra fifteen minutes of sleep and a cup of coffee before facing my fellow villagers.

Of course, there's no swearing or cable TV in the village, and you can't just walk around the house in your underwear, if that's the sort of thing you are inclined to do. And although there is high speed internet, trying to post a blog entry feels a lot like web surfing on company time back in the cubicle days, always with the cursor hovering above the minimize key and the heart racing in fear of being discovered.

But with each day that is neurotically crossed off the calendar, I have increased confidence that we will make it to October and our new house intact. Although we might have to sacrifice some of our baby teeth.