I had chocolate cake for lunch. Followed by 3 Advil.

If there was ever a day chocolate cake and Advil should be on the lunch menu--today was that day. For a couple reasons.

1. I turned 28 on Saturday. 28 feels an awful lot like 27. We were traveling home from this vacation HERE. Therefore, no one made me any birthday cake. Except for the chef at Chili's in Payson but that doesn't really count because he didn't know me. It was still a really good day. He said I could pick out any piano I wanted on craigslist. He is the best husband. The kids and I made official birthday cake after church yesterday. The large leftover piece has been calling my name since I woke this morning.

28 years old.

2. Noah started kindergarten this morning. I have had empty pit in my stomach for weeks about it. When we pulled into the parking lot this morning, he sat in the car. I told him to get out. He told me he wasn't old enough to go to Macy's school. I think he thought all this back to school talk meant he was to return to Mrs. Lisa's preschool. He did eventually get out of the car and walked, hand in mine, to meet his new teacher and class.

My mom said on a scale of 1 to 10, the Batman and High School Musical backpacks aren't really important. I shouldn't fight it--just buy them.

3. Macy became a 2nd grader this morning. I know she will keep an eye on Noah for me this year. She nervously waved across the room at another little girl, when I was introducing ourselves to her new teacher. I presume the little girl across the room was a familiar face from her 1st grade class and a face Macy was relieved and thrilled to see this morning
Macy and Mrs. Proulx--rhymes with blue. Doesn't that sound like a really nice 2nd grade teacher?

4. Ezra and I entered the new and lonely land of "just the 2 of us-- all day." He is a sweet kid. He does not expect me to entertain him but all entertaining done by himself is done on my lap or in the near vicinity. I look forward to our alone time this year. We also started the potty training chapter today. He has already called 2 times this morning, checking on our progress. He loves nothing more than a potty trained kid.

Ezra thought he too was going to school. He was proud as punch walking the halls this morning with his new Mario backpack.

Can you see why I deserve the chocolate cake today?


When Ezra and I were making our lonely exit from the elementary school to the parking lot I managed to pull a muscle, pinch a nerve, or probably both. I was stepping one foot in front of the other, like always, and BAM. I was then hobbling through the parking lot. I need a chiropractor. I'm walking like a full term pregnant lady that just had her right leg amputated. Summer is officially over. I'm old enough to have 2 children in school all day and old enough to have 3 children that know how to use the toilet. And I think my body realized it today.


And that is where the 3 Advil made their way to my lunch table.

The big reveal. Before and after.

Jace says he had to talk me into it. He says I failed to see the potential

for the first couple of days and weeks.

I had seen prettier barn-turned-home(s) in my day.

The block walls were wavy. The siding rotted. The balcony - dangerous.

The windows would have to be replaced. Along with the doors. And the trusses. And the rest of the house.

But the lot was great. I knew an acre of irrigated green grass and trees in the middle of the desert was priceless. The neighborhood looked and felt a lot like Taylor, Arizona.

Home.

So although it was not love at first sight. I knew. Jace was capable. I had a vision. That proved to be enough.

Three months,

One 5th wheel trailer home,

Buckets of sweat and tears,

A million cuss words later,

(and not to mention a couple of these - $)

She is all spiffed up.

We broke up the tall rectangular shape with bat and board on top and stone on the bottom.

The barren, gray trees that we purchased last February are now full of life and green.

The front porch posts are just a few of the things we left original to the house. They are now stained and embellished.

Our back porch. Metal rusted beams are original. The white siding around front and back doors is where the original barn doors existed.

Before picture of front room, dining room, and kitchen. The tall sheet-rocked pillar at the end of the kitchen island was framed around an original barn beam. One was also hiding in the gray wall across the hall. The house has 3 sets of these beams holding up a metal, iron eye beam that runs the length of the house, in between the 1st and 2nd stories. Anther reason we felt good about our purchase. The house and foundation are rock solid.

After picture of old dining room and kitchen. We turned the old dining room space into a Mormon size pantry. The concrete floors are original - flawed - newly stained- and AWESOME.

The once concealed barn beams are now center stage and framed in. Should I paint them? Stain them? The new dining room and office that sits just behind it used to be a large bedroom.

The office is small. Centrally located. With a closet.

The previous owners loved to experiment with paint colors. Jace just thinks they were blind. At the top of these stairs was an old kitchen. The original owners built an apartment on top of the original barn and lived in it. While living in it, they converted the downstairs barn into a house. The result was 2 kitchens, 2 master bedrooms, 2 family rooms, ect.

After picture of the old upstairs kitchen. Now a wet bar for the large family room.

After picture of the once gray and fluorescent orange stair walls.

Before picture of the upstairs master bathroom.

After picture. The once pink bathroom is now the boys bathroom.

Tub turned boy's shower.

Before picture of upstairs master bedroom. Before we rolled the new trusses, the upstairs ceiling were just 7 feet tall. A little low for my tall Jace and for re-sale. All the bedrooms have walk-in closets.

After picture. The blue diamond walls are now white (surprised?), lined with the boy's toys and beds. The entire upstairs ceiling is now raised and vaulted.

Before picture of another darkly painted upstairs bedroom.

After. Macy was worried it would never look like a girl's room.

Macy's bathroom before.

And after. I was feeling the color white thru out the entire house. Jace quit asking about color, cabinet, and fixture choices. He knew the answer would be white. I wanted everything clean, open and bright.

Before picture of downstairs bathroom/laundry room.

After picture. We split the above pictured room into a laundry/powder bath and master bathroom.

After picture of master bathroom. Jace picked out all plumbing fixtures. On his own.

Our new master shower.

We call it our baptismal font.


I can now check this post off my to-do list. Our hard work is now documented.

Our house is feeling more and more like home everyday. We are so grateful for this house and the opportunity we have here. While the major construction has come to an end, we have lists and lists of non-major things to construct.....but who doesn't? That is part of the beauty of home ownership (and life). Construct. Tear down. Rebuild. Add on. Improve.

We are now taking your bets.

How long will Jace let me live in this one?

My nervous tick(s). 10 years later.

L to R: Erika, Lindsey, Sarah, Amy, Kira, Me, Cami, Jami, Mary, Molly, and Beth

Photo from HER blog.  I forgot I owned a camera.

Me with gal pal Nikki (Nikolaus) Nelson at the Show Low Park

Photo from Caitlin Hatch, class of 2005.  

Who would have thought that she would be at my 10 year reunion?  

Way to go Chaz.

My 10 year reunion was last weekend.  It was somewhat of a success.  And by success I mean that I managed not to call someone by the wrong name, no old flames were in attendance, my children behaved, and Jace's zipper was down only for 20 minutes.  I really feel for spouses at these gatherings.  What I didn't manage was controlling my nervous ticks.  The older I become the more apparent they are.  Call me Kim.  I talk loud.  I'm constantly cracking jokes.  Jokes that only I find funny most of the time.  And I'm the one trying to give high 5's or firm handshakes instead of hugs.  The hugging thing drives Jace crazy.  Not the part about me hugging people from high school but the part about me trying not to.  (Have you read HER post about it?  She appropriately named it the Great Arm Wrestle).  

In these attempts to be funny and put people as ease, I often offend innocent bystanders.  I said something to Gaylon about his (future) sad wife and everyone around thought I called Gaylon's life sad.  I told Ryan, "now that's not true, they were lots of underclass men that wanted to date you."  I said something about Lindsey's attempts at making children.  Something about Josh's wife being 5 feet tall.  And probably many more.  I could explain them all but I won't. 

Isn't it amazing how people don't change?  The Show Low class of '99 looks the same.  Talks the same.  It was fun to be in the same room with these people again.  It was also a trip.  Back in time.  I went to dinner the night before with Erika, Kira, Beth, and Nikki.  It was almost like 10 years never happened.  I want to see them more.  They thought I was a shoo in for the "least changed" award. I wasn't thrilled about that.  Surely 10 years has brought or taught me something.  Does it mean I need a new hair cut?  Or does it mean I still say things before I think and laugh loudly at myself?  Probably all of the above.  Lucky for me Cynthia took home the "least changed" award.

For the public record:  I'm working on my nervous ticks (not the new hair do).  Recognition is the 1st step.  I do not intend to harm or offend.  My intention is to make everyone at ease and I really like having a swell time.  I like you all.  Please come in 10 years to another reunion, give me the "least changed" award, we'll party like it's 1999 again and....I promise I'll take it easy on you.

Jace took me on a boat ride. And a house progress report.

Last night as we were skimming across the waters of Saguaro Lake at dusk, the warm wind in our faces and hair, five children were laughing trying catch their breath, as our boat crashed up and down thru every wave and ripple in the water. Shadows from the looming red rock walls had darkened the waters and relaxed our squinting eyes.

A "David Hasselhoff" reference was made about the handsome, shirtless man navigating the boat thru the waters. I know he won't mind that his co-captain this summer is not of the Pamela Lee variety but of the Kim Seaman type. I felt just like my beautiful Mom sitting in the upper passenger chair next to my husband, holding the baby, passing out towels, life jackets, and nourishment to any empty belly. My swimsuit wet only from splashing children and wet towels.

There was a time when I would have been racing Addie to the back deck of Mike's boat to jump off into the icy waters. Grandpa Don would be there in the deep waters teaching us to swim, float, and then to water ski. There was also a time I would have been racing Jessica to any boat that would pull us around on a wake board. My Dad was the best driver. He would cuss, instruct, and zoom past us in the water after a fall. The rope handle would land in our hands again and he would pull us up out of the water again and again.

"Ready? Ready?," He would yell.
I would nod, then yell, "Ready. Let's go."

We weren't allowed back into the boat until we stopped crying, cussing, or until we conquered.

There is no better way to enjoy Arizona. I love to live here. Swimming in dark, cool lake water is fine. Feeling whiplash for days after a tube ride is great fun. Wake boarding is a thrill. But without a doubt, the best part of a lake trip is the boat ride. The smell of the vinyl upholstery, gasoline fumes, the hum of the engine, cousins, siblings, and the wind made my heart very happy last night. I should know better than to let Jace take me on a boat test drive.

Mr. Boatman, I think you have yourself a deal.



Long overdue Progress Report on the house:

We are living in it. Our temporary residence rolled out of our yard last Friday. I wish I could say my heart wasn't jumping for joy but it was. The night I have to sleep in a 5th wheel trailer again will be a night too soon. We have been scrambling to finish to house, therefore still kind of camping. Things are slowly coming together....and just like usual I'm waiting on the plumber. He's up to his eyeballs busy, so I try not to complain. He built me the finest barn posts yesterday and hooked up an R.O. system (AND took me on a boat ride). Stayed tuned for the big before and after photos....even Jace and I are astonished. Until then you can check out these:

Need I say more about the deep windowsills? Or the Ikea open shelving in the kitchen?

Every home that was once a barn should sport barn lanterns in the dining room.

Irrigation. Trees. Green grass. Swing.

White bat and board walls to match the exterior. Worn leather furniture. Need I say more about the deep windowsills? Ok, I will. The original barn was constructed out of 8" cinder block, then filled with dirt for insulation. When the original owner decided he wanted to try living in the barn he turned 2 x 4's on edge to frame, insulate, and sheetrock the original block walls. In turn the downstairs stay cool all day long and makes for some lovely, deep windowsills. One of many of the great perks we found as we demolished and revonated.

More pictures coming soon.

To Whom it may concern:

We are alive and well.  We are very busy.  Forgive us.  I wish I had the energy to tell you about our new life but I don't.  I wanted to tell you (and remind me for the next time Jace suggests a 5th wheel for temporary residency) about how I have to haul and deliver our dirty laundry to Addie's non-coin operated laundry mat in trash bags and then haul the clean laundry back home in the same bags, turned inside out.  I also wanted to tell you about how I have to wait for Jace to come home to light the pilot light in the oven before I can use it for dinner.  I should also remember for next time that while our new trailer home boasts of a miniature shower and toilet, we are on strict instructions not to use the toilet.  We must walk into the "regular" house and use the one item we did not haul to the dump during demolition, the master bathroom toilet.  One must be sure to bring someone to "stand guard,"  the doors have not been hung and the 2 Hispanics that have been tiling bathrooms for the last week arrive early, stay late, and recently moved their operations into the above mentioned bathroom.  I will also add that I can't ever remember to turn off the a/c unit before trying to run the microwave in the trailer....something about tripping breakers.  I wish I had the time to whine to someone about how I must measure containers at the grocery store to be sure they will fit in my dainty fridge and how my food is starting to taste just like that dainty fridge and that temperamental microwave.  My boys follow, converse, and eat the food the Hispanics packed in their lunch.  The Hispanics don't seem to mind when their lunch gets eaten or the part left out of the contracted deal- babysitting.  Jace is proud of his trailer park family. The children are in heaven.  Filthy.  Tired.  In need of haircuts.  And finally have a full time father.  Macy loves school.  And I am thrilled about it.  The cashiers at Home Depot and Lowes know my children and I by name.  I also remembered a story a while back I wanted to share with you and if I had the energy I would tell you about eating dinner at the new neighbor's house, the Radiology Dr. (husband) and the Pharmacology student (wife).  As the nervous, young and childless wife seated us at her large, expensive dining room table with matching white, velvet upholstered chairs-I was praying.  Praying she wouldn't notice I had rudely brought with me - 3 children under the age of 8.  After sitting the "gentlemen across from gentlemen" and then the "women across from women" she ended up seated next to my Noah Baum.  I was praying she would invite us back to her lovely home after sitting thru an entire meal by him.  With every snort, snore, and allergy-rattling breath the nervous wife would crank her head in Noah's direction, not knowing if she should offer a Kleenex or perform CPR.  About half way thru the meal, I explained that Noah can't breathe.  I told her Noah suffers from life long allergies and not only is he enjoying her cooking but that his breathing is perfectly normal.  She politely excused herself to a 7:00 appointment before apple pie was served.  But I'll save that story for another time.  It was classic.  There was also that time the boss of the Hispanic rock/tile laborers was here explaining things and in my presence told his employees that I (Lindsay) was the "Hefe."   He then turned to me and asked if I knew what that meant?  "Yes, boss....... or maybe hefty one?,"  I said.  "NO, NO not hefty....Boss!"  he said.  I'm still not sure he meant boss though.  His Hispanics still refuse to look me in the eye when I'm "bossing" them. I have a feeling the phrase "gorta hefe" has been used when I'm not around.  Just a feeling.  One of these days when I live in a real house I will do a real update on our life, with real pictures.  Until then. 

Spring Break =

Progress.

New trusses. New roof. New windows.

New front porch. New siding. New doors.

New electrical. New HVAC. New plumbing. New interior walls.

All in one week.

It was exciting to see the remarkable changes everyday. So exciting in fact, we have decided that I will now be the permanent-onsite construction supervisor.

Translation: Our family will be "camping" in the front yard during the last month of construction. Children will see their father everyday. Husband and wife will communicate without small hand held devices. The weather is beautiful. And when the painter wants to know if I want antique white or chantilly lace white, I will be there to clear up all confusion.

Spring Break also included a bit of this:

Happy, wet children soaking in the Baum's new pool.

Swimsuits were optional.