apples and bees

Remember how in the very beginning I said we’d definitely talk about bees?

Well, here we go.

For whatever reason, the things that stick in my mind are always fruit related. That or we just have a lot of drama around fruit.

Really I can’t decide which it is. But it’s definitely one of those.

So, we had our first apple picking adventure the other weekend.

Before I start, I just need to let you allllllll know *for the record* that bees and wasps and any kind of flying thing that stings or bites like to swarm me.

Apparently I am the most amazing, vibrant, fragrant flower in the history of botany.

Except I’m a person.

Who doesn’t like being swarmed by things that sting.

So, our day starts like any other picture perfect instagrammable nostalgic apple orchard experience. We have a wooden basket. A wagon. Birds singing their morning songs. Crisp, cool air smelling of wet dew and new life. The sun trying to burn through the early morning fog. Laughing kids and a muddy dirt road leading to a lush green orchard filled with rows upon rows of trees, all teeming with apples. Rolling hills giving way to mountains in the background.

Kellan was over the moon excited. Wide eyed and full of wonder. He could just walk up to a tree and pluck off an apple and keep it. Just like that.

Hunter wanted to eat gum them and “clap” two together, much to Kellan’s chagrin, as he was trying to only select the most perfect apples.

As we were going up and down the rows in the orchard, Kellan kept stopping and going to different trees because there were <record scratch> yellow jackets everywhere. They were mostly on the ground around all of the fallen apples.

Tim was completely nonchalant like Kellan. Pick the apples. The bees don’t care. They don’t see you as a threat. They don’t feel any competition.

They aren’t going to come after your apples.

There are plenty of apples everywhere.

Decomposing ones on the ground.

Fresh ones all over the trees.

Apples for everybody and every bee.

And for the most part, that was factual.

The bees stayed out of the way.

That is, until the veeeeery end when I decide to try an apple.

I mean, what happened was the reality of our situation suddenly dawned on me.

We were picking all of these apples and filling a huge basket and we had no idea what they even tasted like.

What if they were terrible?

What if we didn’t like them?

What did we even do if we didn’t like them?……

As a responsible adult, I needed to take one for the team. I was not about to bring a shame bucket to the register like we didn’t try before we picked and now here’s a whole pile of apples…..

So, as we were walking to some new trees, I plucked a glistening red apple off a branch while I was holding Hunter (because bees on the ground plus crawling child is not a desirable combo).

I took a bite and then let Hunter have a “bite” (because gums and also because this kid wants to try and eat everything).

YOU. GUYS.

It was the most delicious piece of fruit I have ever had in my entire life. If this was what the apple tasted like that Eve ate, I really can’t blame her. Girl couldn’t help herself.

Neither could the bees.

Right before I took another bite, a yellow jacket flew onto it. And then it decided Hunter’s shirt right below his chin was an amazing place to forage.

Drool plus apple juice. Bee magnet. FYI.

So here I am…..having this debate in my head….what to do….what to do….

Hunter in one arm, a chin drop away from experiencing the really shocking reality about bees….and in the other hand, the most extraordinary apple I have ever had in my entire life.

During this internal debate, my apple was sending some invisible signal to every bee within a ten mile radius. TRY ME. EAT ME. HERE I AM. FIND THE CRAZY WOMAN WITH THE BABY.

What to do…….what to do…….

I’ll tell you exactly what I did.

AHHHHHHHHHH THERE’S A BEE!!!! IT’S ON HUNTER’S SHIRT!!! HELP!!!!!! BEE!!!!!!

MAKE IT GO AWAY!!!!!!!!!!

Tim ran over from picking apples with Kellan a few trees down and started calmly tying to blow the bee off of Hunter’s shirt.

Obviously, I was not able to help other than by holding the apple in the air as far away from Hunter as possible and yelling THAT’S NOT WORKING! IT WON’T LEAVE!

Finally, after Tim had had enough of my bee panic dance, he looks at me and is like, “Seriously woman. JUST DROP THE APPLE. OMG. You’re waving around a torch like a maniac and wondering why the whole room is on fire!”

I hesitated…then I tossed it away. I watched it roll under a nearby tree and I looked over at Tim and whined all, “You don’t understand. That was the best apple in the whole world. It really didn’t deserve that.”

But you guys.

I really really really wanted to eat that apple.

I wanted to eat that apple more than anything I have ever wanted to eat in my whole life. More than the forgotten piece of wedding cake our coordinator neglected put in our bag on our wedding night. And let me tell you I have never been more disappointed to open a container expecting cake and seeing chicken. Chicken! We painstakingly put that cake together flavor by flavor, layer by layer. And then to not even get to sit and devour it in gluttonous glory….it was a sad night that I still think about periodically, mourning over the cake I’ll never get to have.

All of this is to say that I wanted that apple more than I wanted that cake.

And I had to throw it.

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I’m here but not *here*

Writing? Who has time for that?!

*raised hand*

You guys. Life is insanity.

Soooooo much happening in a teeny tiny amount of time.

Buuuuuuuut

I am making attempts to post stuff on Instagram over at littlechickenbees.

If you’d like to keep up with the insanity, that is where I’ll be. For the time being, my brain can only manage sharing small snippets of information in square form.

(How’s that for alliteration on a Saturday?)

See you there!!

the grapetastrophy

Some of you may have been around for the $20 watermelon….or maybe you forgot about the $20 watermelon.

Either way, I'll wait for you to refresh your memory or make a new one. It's important to have this background knowledge.

Ready?

Here we go.

Apparently, history repeats itself in the produce department. We like to find the things that are ridiculously expensive without realizing it until after we make it through the checkout.

And by that point, knowing how Tim refuses to be shamed by fruit, it's too late.

I partially blame this particular expenditure on doing the GET IT AND GET OUT mad dash that was grocery shopping on Saturday. We were dealing with a baby who wanted to graze any and all items within reach, edible or not, and a child who wanted to be in charge of the grocery list and got upset if we didn't go line by line down the list versus in order of what each aisle had.

I tried to explain how it would not be efficient to go back and forth, up and down the same aisles over and over again, but I don't think it really sank in. At all.

Why, you ask? Well, I was talking to Kellan AND Tim at the same time about completely different things, so instead of giving an important, coherent lesson, it sounded more like, "We need to get all of the things…DID YOU GET THE BREAD?….all of the things in one aisle without having to…YES TWO LOAVES….without having to go back and….ALSO GRAB SOME MILK….forth…MILK? THE HAPPY COW KIND…I know the list isn't in order….YES A WHOLE GALLON….I didn't have time to put it in order….Kellan did you check off bread and milk??

I usually organize the list by aisle but we made one on the fly *as* we drove to the store from a park. I realized we were close to Whole Foods and made a split second decision to go as we drove out of the parking lot.

Looking back, we probably made a whole bunch of errors that led to this expenditure, but hey. That's how we roll. Sometimes. Most of the time….goodbyeeeeee type a trying to take over.

Anyway, Kellan wanted to be in charge of checking things off the list and Hunter wanted to be held and sample anything, whether we put we put it in the cart or not. Kid eats everything. All the time. By the time we left it looked like Hunter had gone into battle with a buffet table and lost…handily.

So, anyhow, the entire time we are grocery shopping my brain is in four places at once and really I cannot ever concentrate fully on one thing. I walk around feeling hectic. I don't know any other way to describe it. I actually feel hectic. Like a swirling dervish of questions and items and what was I doings.

After we filled our cart with mostly things not even on the list (which Kellan protested and then added to the list because details are important, people), I left Tim to handle the checking out on his own. I decided I was getting a smoothie because I was starving.

Kellan spent this time running back and forth between the two of us (straight shot, visible the whole time) to relay information.

Mommy is getting a smoothie.

Daddy asked what size smoothie.

Twelve ounces.

What's in this bag?

Cookies.

Apparently an hour long hike wasn't enough to wear him out.

By the time we got everybody and everything strapped into the car, we sat in the front seats and just stared at each other like what even just happened? Did we even buy anything on the list?

Tim then started going down the receipt to see what all of the "high ticket" items were. Apparently he didn't get to watch the register during checkout, so this was his way of doing it…albeit after the fact.

"What was $10.81??"

He traced his finger along the dotted lines ……what is this……GRAPES?

We bought $10.81 worth of GRAPES???

How many packages of grapes did we buy??

I looked at him all, "One."

This was too much information…or maybe too little information, for Tim.

Why on earth were they ten dollars??? What kind of grapes are ten dollars???

They were organic?

(Apparently that's my go to excuse for expensive produce)

Tim stuffed the receipt in the cup holder all, "These $10 grapes are right on par with that $20 watermelon."

In its defense, it was a really good watermelon….

He kept going under his breath all, "They better be really fantastic grapes for $10. TEN DOLLARS. For grapes!"

And he left it at that until we got home and I tried a few of the grapes.

I looked at him and smiled and said, "These are really good grapes! Totally worth the $10!"

(Because they actually really were)

Tim looks at me dead in the eye and says, "I better not see one. single. grape. in the trash. Not a one!"

Produce: 2
Tim: 0

bagged meat

We made taco salad for dinner the other night.

I know. So boring.

Except I need to know if what I am about to say is just a me thing or if it's generally accepted as GROSS.

We are still living that temporary apartment life and we are starting to run out of things because you don't stockpile when you're going to have to move it all over again.

I am referencing things like glass containers to store food.

I am all about reducing plastic use here, people.

Except we still have ziplock bags – which are 100% plastic – because I haven't yet found a way to not have those. How do you do it? Please share the wisdom of your ways.

Anyhow. Tacos.

All of our (as in three) glass containers to store food were being used. All of the bowls were dirty.

There was thismuch taco meat leftover. Juuuuust too much to be able to eat the last few bites and call it a day.

But there was nothing to put it in.

So says me.

Tim grabs a ziplock bag and is all, "Here, use this!"

And I looked at him like are you serious?

He was definitely serious.

While he scooped it up from the pan and dropped it in the bag he was all, "Are you going to eat this? You're going to eat this, right?"

And he was saying "this" like you'd ask anyone if they'd eat leftovers from a meal that was just so amazingly delicious.

Ummm….do I have to answer?

Maybe? (Read: never)

*gag*

Here is where I get caught up.

Meat doesn't go in bags.

Sandwiches.

Grapes.

Doritos.

Pizza slices.

Carrot sticks.

Even a half eaten hamburger.

All of those things I can see in a bag.

But loose meat?!?!

Bagged. Ground. Loose. Meat.

And let's take it a step further because really there is always an end game:

You want me to open a bag of loose ground meat and pour it.

We are now pouring bagged meat onto a tortilla. Into a bowl. Wherever it's supposed to go, it's going to get there in such a fashion that is akin to liquid coming out of a jug….

I just…I can't.

I can a lot of things but this is one area I just cannot.

I'll have you know that the bag of meat is still sitting in the refrigerator. Probably conforming to whatever shape it has been squished into.

Really none of what I am saying is heading in a direction that ends well.

So let's just leave it at that.

The cold, squished, loose ground meat is never getting eaten.

(I probably just crossed the line with that)

weighing consequences

One small child alone in a room is never a good idea.

FYI.

*except*

Sometimes you have to weigh the consequences of above statement to make sure the other child gets a taped slate and commercial audition done that requires a very quiet background.

Note to future self: if you truly have a completely quiet background, you're doing it wrong. Or something is wrong. Mischief is being managed.

After Kellan finished up a pretty good take, he was all, "We should check on Hunter!"

Instead of heeding his internal Hunter Alert System I was all, I know but we only have so many minutes of silence.

And then I actually heard the words coming out of my mouth and I jumped up and ran out of the room like a firecracker had just been lit under my nether regions.

Except Kellan beat me out and I hear him laughing and saying OH NO! at the same time.

Obviously I start filming, like any good parent would do.

And so I walk out and here is Hunter.

He Who Has Crashed The Plant.

This is a picture from the video (hence poor quality) and in the video I was all, "Huuuuuunterrrrr……whaaaaaat haaaaaapened?……."

And every time I asked he'd look away from the camera all, "….doh dee doh doh….nothing to see here….la dee dah dah…."

And he knew!

He's only eight months old!

He already knows the system!

I am in so much trouble!

This is not a random, happenstance occurrence.

Oh no.

This child bucks the system every chance he gets.

Literally this blog is going to turn into You Won't Believe What Happened Today.

Thankfully my safety patrol was the firstborn.

THE HOUSE

Our realtor is probably sick and tired of us at this point. We've been together for almost three months through I don't even know how many showings in five different surrounding towns, countless phone calls and emails, last minute "we want to see this house asap texts, three failed contracts, and soon to be two full blown home inspections.

She says she doesn't mind. I feel like she's just really good at her job. As in pretending we are excellent company even though we probably have a special ring tone that sounds something like a really annoying rooster.

We have a fourth contract on another house that I'm sure she is hoping and praying will work out so we can all just go our separate ways and then she can be all YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT I JUST WENT THROUGH WITH THESE PEOPLE.

And really, we've had things happen this go 'round that have been just weird and crazy and honestly WTF.

We are all ready for that day when we can be all, "You better sit down and grab a drink because YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS."

The haha funny but not really is that this house has been on the market all along. Through every house and failed contract and hours of searching MLS listings.

And there it was, just waiting, waving its hand frantically in the air like, "Pick me! Pick me!

We actually drove through the neighborhood about a month ago to look at a few of the houses for sale, including that one, and I was all, "No. I don't not want to live in this town. The backyard is too sloped. There's nothing here."

So that was the end of that until we ran out of choices and Tim was all, "We are out of choices. I'm going to go see of this house is okay before we drag everybody out there."

And by "this one" he meant a house a few doors down from the house we ended up loving.

He even asked if he should see the other house just because he was there and we were both like nahhhhh.

That was last Monday.

By Friday, I sent a text to our agent and said, "Let's go see this one (the one we had rejected twice now). Here we go again."

I say again because it was in the town I didn't want to be in and a house I didn't really want to see. But we had nothing else to look at. We had exhausted our options.

I think we have seen at least 25-30 homes, more if you count the ones we just drove by to see if we liked the area.

This is no small feat with two little ones and nap times and people who don't like being in the car, ever (here's lookin' at you, Hunter).

We had five houses to see on Saturday and the twice rejected house was the first on the list.

After walking in, I didn't want to go see any others.

This was IT.

This was THE HOUSE.

WHY DID IT TAKE US SO LONG TO SEE IT???

You guys. The room that will be Kellan's bedroom has this little reading nook they made by finishing off a small space behind a dormer window. It even has its own air conditioning vent, which hello, perfect for my book loving little furnace that is Kellan.

They had a perfect mix of living space and storage space in the basement.

They took care of their house.

You can tell when someone loves their home and keeps it nice versus someone who doesn't. We have seen and "felt" the insides of enough houses to know the difference.

This house was loved.

We walked around looking to see if there was anything that was amiss….and there wasn't. The storage space was even immaculate.

I almost left a note on the kitchen counter on the back of one of the flyers about the home that just said WE LOVE YOUR HOUSE.

Because we really, really did.

We told our agent we wanted to make an offer……and then we had to go see the rest of the houses on our list.

I didn't want to see anything else. I was done. But Tim was all, "We need to keep our options open because three failed contracts."

So, fine. Off we went.

In the middle of all of the driving and seeing the other houses, our agent was all, "Hard sell after seeing that one, huh?"

Well, yah. Obviously.

And then she told us that she called the other agent and someone else had already made an offer on the house that was perfect for us, but the owners weren't happy with the offer and weren't tied to it.

Small sigh of relief?

I mean we could have avoided this had we gone to look at this house the other two times we decided not to. We just like to add unnecessary drama to our lives, apparently.

After we sent in our offer, the other agent said he had to go back to the people who made the initial offer to see if they wanted to change anything or offer more money.

More waiting drama.

Why do we do this to ourselves?

And then finallllllly!!!!

We received the documents to sign to get a contract going to start the process of moving into the house that we knew was THE ONE.

(There was also a third offer mixed in there but whew. We beat them to the punch)

And then yesterday, it happened….

Wait…small sidebar first.

When we moved into our Arkansas house, we knew it was a house that had been loved. You can just tell. And we also loved that house. That has been our most favorite house ever and when we found out we were moving, we wanted to sell it to someone who would love it as much as we did.

Somehow, the right people found and bought our house. They had actually wanted to buy it when we did, but for whatever reason they didn't or we put the offer in first, I have no idea.

After they closed on it, they sent us a text asking some questions and when I responded I told them I hoped they enjoyed the house as much as we did.

Their response?

WE LOVE THIS HOUSE.

They also knew all of the previous owners (except us).

The universe made sure the right people bought our house and will love it and take care of it.

That's exactly what we wanted.

It sounds silly because it's just a house, but a house holds so many memories and important events in people's lives and there is a totally different feel when you are in a happy house.

End sidebar.

Yesterday, our realtor was over at the house because she had to let in an inspector and the family was there finishing up getting the last things out.

The wife came up to her and asked if she was the new owner. Our realtor said no and the wife went on to say that she said she had just felt connection with us/our offer, even though they had three offers.

She said that she was hoping I would be there because she really wanted to meet me to tell me about the neighborhood and show me where the kids lived and talk to me about the house and where they spent their time.

She asked our realtor if it was against the rules to ask about us or what age our kids were and gave her all of her contact information to give to me.

She hoped we would love it as much as they did and they were sad to leave.

They loved their home.

This is why that house felt like it was THE HOUSE the minute we walked in. It is the same kind of house we cherished in Arkansas and the same kind of house we have been searching for since we have been here.

The universe put this house in our path even though we rejected it more than once.

We should all know by now that if the universe is trying to get you to a place, you will get there. It will happen.

All of the failed contracts and wrong houses and inspection issues and driving everywhere and endless searching and feeling defeated over and over and over again.

It all led to this house.

The house that we were supposed to have all along.

I am so happy and excited about moving in.

It feels right.

It's perfect.

It's THE HOUSE.

something from nothing

I want to write something funny but really I'm too tired for funny.

Apartment life with intermittent Sasquatch upstairs tromping around until the wee hours (what even are they doing?? These apartments aren't that big. How much walking and forgetting what you walked over for and walking back and raiding the refrigerator and whatever else is happening doing up there??) along with an almost eight month old who is going through some things like probably teething and trying to figure out how to sit down after pulling up on every single thing within reach leads to no sleep.

When Kellan was this age I read about how babies will literally roll over and put themselves into a crawling position in their sleep because their brains cannot stop making the body do all the things, even whilst unconscious, until they master the task.

With Kellan I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And it never happened.

Not once.

He woke up and practiced every letter sound there is, over and over and over, but there was never any of that crazy getting up to try and crawl away.

So, the other night when Hunter was totally zonked and out of nowhere rolled himself over and got into a crawling position and then started trying to pull up on me to stand all with his eyes closed, I was like ohhhhhhhhhhhh. So this is what they're talking about.

Yah. That was quite the surprise for ye olde mom over here.

I mean during the day Hunter will get himself standing, holding onto whatever, and then after a bit he will start crying because HOW DO I SIT DOWN???

He falls, pretty much. Not the slightest bit graceful. I guess the letting go and also getting into a sitting position is pretty technical if you actually think about all the steps you need to take.

I think that's what we're working on which is resulting in terrible naps and fitful night sleep.

Coffee me.

ALSO I'm basically one million percent mom + errand runner + chef + teacher + scheduler + house cleaner + whatever else it is I do all day because Tim + new job = crazy hours and incessant phone interruptions every day of the week.

It's difficult for everybody.

I appreciate all of his hard work to allow us to live the way we do where I can stay home, but that comes with sacrifices.

And so now I apparently just did something that made the font smaller and I have no idea how I am too tired lazy to fix it so FYI. I'm sure it'll fix itself after I publish it. Or it won't and we'll all be reading the small print from here on out (haha…punny).

I'm supposed to be making dinner, now.

Guess I better jump on that task because hangry is a condition every single one of us has and it's zero percent fun to have three people getting upset about nothing and a baby crying at everything because all any of us want to do is EAT but we are all too delirious with hunger to actually see that that is the issue and instead start blaming each other for ridiculous indiscretions that aren't even real.