For Sale

Spring Cure 2010, a photo by Life As We Blog It on Flickr.
And yep, I took this bad pic.

This is where I spend my days but you need to imagine a play mat, bouncy seat, crib, changing table, and Mammaroo swing sharing the space with me.

Oh, and a 14 week old.

Today I got a call around noon from the real estate agency, asking if an agent could show our place from 2-3, which is feeding time. Of course I said yes, because I need to get the hell out of this one bedroom before I commit hari kari, or hari krishna or something else along those lines.

So, I went about de-babying the flat - snatching up bibs and bottles, blankets and teething toys, pacifiers and Poohs, cribs and play mats - and shoved everything in either the basement or the dishwasher. Then I stocked my Sportsac, adding more diapers, formula and bottles (because I have a bomb shelter mentality when it comes to my diaper bag), popped The Cheeks in her car seat, and went to Barnes and Nobles to buy my new friend's first novel and wait out the hour.

Luckily, The Cheeks slept the entire time so after buying the book, I pressed my luck and decided not to feed her and made my way home.

Having a newborn and a flat for sale at the same time is nerve wracking; I'm not sure which accounts more for my chewed nubby fingers, but together the combined pressure is tough stuff.

I want this place to sell; Sophia and I buried a statue of St. Joseph in the backyard this past weekend in hopes it will lead to success. If it works, well, the Catholic Church will get a new member and little Eliza Skye will wear a white dress on her communion day.

If it doesn't work, well, I'm open to many religions and will get to work burying their saints, sinners, and archetypes, too.