Anyway, we’ve been cleaning and organizing and throwing stuff away and taking all of the necessary steps to return a two-bedroom apartment that has survived over two hundred weekly Kid’s Clubs, four Thanksgiving Dinners and Haunted Houses, and more events than I can even count back to the ‘original move-in state’.  If you’re not currently rolling your eyes, you should be at the preposterous notion that there is a shred of a chance of that apartment looking anything like it did in the summer of 2004.  Let’s be honest… they should feel lucky that my unnamed roommate didn’t burn the place down while creating her culinary nightly masterpiece of Pasta Roni and steamed broccoli stems.  You think I’m joking, but ask anyone.  Girl CAN live by Pasta Roni and Vitamin Water alone.  I found four Tupperware containers of proof in my fridge.  Oh, and if you want/need any sugar-free Instant Oatmeal, vanilla cook & serve pudding mix, or fat-free spray on vinaigrette, I’ve got you covered until 2019.

Ok, moving on… literally and figuratively.  With only a few tasks left to finish up at the old place, I headed in to work today after my parents volunteered to finish up for me.  I’m not quite sure how effective they were with five children under the age of eight expecting them to play jump rope with them and fix their bikes, but now they know how my life has been for the past four years and exactly what I’ll be missing.  By the time I got off work today, Zac had arrived from his drive up and was helping to hang my quilts and wall decor in the new apartment.  (Now, I can finally show you pictures!!!) With the sun setting and everyone exhausted, we headed out to procure some nourishment at the local New Frontiers store.  There’s really truly nothing in the world like four country-folk stumbling into a organic hippie store and trying to appear civilized.  It just doesn’t work.

Finally, devoid of our pride and stuffed with everything but steroids and pesticides, we headed back to my place.  With less than two miles left in our return journey, Mom casually asked if I had my housekeys which I did not because I had given them to her on my way out the door to work this morning so they could come and go as they pleased.  Reminding her of this fact, she quietly confessed that she didn’t have them and had forgotten them when we left for dinner.  Now by this time it was almost nine in the evening and there was no trace of sunlight to be found.  Of couse, the office was no longer open, and I had yet to have a spare made.  So in true family fashion we did what any new resident would do and broke into my new house by removing a shutter and giving Zac a ‘butt-boost’ into th living room window while hoping that no one around us would call the cops on the four loud family members who were bickering about the ‘best’ way to break the law.  It wasn’t until a good hour later that I realized the irony in the relief we felt at the lack of effort it took to get into my apartment.  As you can guess, the number one priority for tomorrow is beefing up security in this place and finding my secret defense mechanism… an oar.  I feel safer already.  Don’t you?

Many of you may have heard me tell tales of ‘creepy new guy’ and his ‘lost’ cat.  If you haven’t, the short story is new guy moves into complex and within the first night loses cat.  I spend two hours helping him search for cat in the dark only for him to find it inside his apartment as soon as I leave.  He then proceeds to start stalking me and knocking on my door all the time to ‘be neighborly’.  I begin to think maybe cat was never lost.  Creepy new guy yells at my favorite munchkins and is just generally creepy with his weird cat on a leash.  As you could guess, our final gift box was for CNG, but after all this time, we’ve learned that for situations like this… we go together.

So CNG lives on the third floor and after delaying the inevitable for more than a few minutes, Keri and I start to trudge up the stairs silently praying that CNG isn’t home.  For this one time, we have prepared to make an exception and not pay him a return vist, but instead plan to leave his prize and run if he doesn’t answer.  As Keri leads the way up the final few steps, she whispers to me that his creepy cat is on the window ledge staring at us.  Both intrigued by this freakazoid cat, we check it out and instanteously realize that not only are CNG’s blinds open but he’s chilling in his bithday suit in a chair watching tv.  Oh, sweet Lord, baby Jesus!!! Now let me just say CNG does not have the body of a god and as he sees us, he hops up out of his chair and in the fractions of a second since I noticed his lack of attire, I am forced into a horrific peep show before my brain can will my neck to turn it for the love of all that is right and holy.  Keri and I were stunned… blinded… with no clue what to do.

Sure, we’d see the guy we call Manties (Man + panties) sunbathing before, but he at least had a speedo on.  This was new territory for us, and before we could react, he had stumbled out the front door wearing a black undershirt that was not only on backwards but inside out so that the tag was flapping under his chin.  Then to make matters even worse, once again my eyes betrayed me as they were drawn down to watch him pull the shirt over his stomach only to realize that we had entered Act #2.  If you thought Act #1 was riveting, well Act #2 took the cake.  Why you make ask… well because it didn’t take long to notice in his hurry to pull athletic shorts on to race outside, he had not pulled them on completely or correctly and well… ummm… yeah, the tip of his penis was peeking out.  I almost lost it.  It took every ounce of self-control within me to not laugh in his face or puke on him.

Oh ,oh, but the story does not end there.  Somehow in the chaos of him running out and us trying to pretend we had not just seen our creepy new neighbor NAKED, he had positioned himself between us and the stairwell, and now because he’s made the effort to dress himself, we should gift with with a conversation.  Uh, excuse me, I don’t want to talk to you with or without clothes!  To top off the most scaring Cares experience ever, he asked us if we wanted to pet and meet his kitty.  (TWSS) In what felt like an eternity of pondering in my head how to respond to such a question without losing my cool or having the cops called on me, I lied and said I we had already been introduced and that Keri was allergic to all cats.    Then with a final prayer I grabbed Keri by the arm, pushed my way past CNG, and hauled butt home.  As soon as we were within the sanctuary of our apartment, we collapsed before dissolving into a fit of giggles.  Of all the reasons, I’ll be sad to leave life as a CaresTeam… you can guess the rest.

Neighbors + free food = good times.

That was his 8th hot dog.

Best of pals.

Never camera shy even with a kool-aid mustache.

Dogpile!!!

Of course, the movie theater had to feel like it was 60 degrees and I had to wonder if the pee was crystalizng on my leg as I sat there praying no one around me would notice the state we were in.  In my head, I just kept playing out the scene where the little boy in front of us starts whispering to his mom asking if she can smell that and then chaos ensues and I wind up in jail.  Yeah, that’s how my brain works.  Thank goodness, the movie ended quickly, and we dashed into Walmart to get M a fresh set of clothes and get her cleaned up.  We could have just taken her home but it was already 7pm, and we had promised the girls Peter Piper Pizza.  We’re push-overs… what can I say?!?!  I swear everything I ever need to know about motherhood (including how to explain to the changing room attendant that your kid had an accident and you promise to remove the tags and pay for the clothes when you checkout) I learned from these munchkins.

M in her new pee-free outfit riding with Spiderman.

My 70+ point domination of Keri in the basketball game.

With time running out, I have been apartment hunting for the past few weeks, and holy crap, is it expensive to live alone! In the past week I’ve contact 19 apartment complexes in town and only three of them have availability before September 1st. Of those three, one starts at $875/month for a 1 bedroom ($1225 for a 2 bedroom), and the other doesn’t have a single positive review online out of 23 online. I’ve looked at houses for rent but don’t really want to pay $1400 a month to live 20 minutes outside of Flagstaff and don’t know of anyone I could room with to split rent. I’ve considered the possibility of just renting a room, but have you seen my house?!? I have more kitchen and cooking supplies than most married women. You have to to do the things we’ve done. I’ve even scoured CraigsList and the local newspaper and have come up empty-handed until today.

Ever had a thought that rests in the back of your mind that you dismiss until out-of-the-blue you realize what a great plan it was. There’s an apartment complex in town that two separate friends of mine have lived in at different times. It’s tucked away close to campus and isn’t comprised of massive buildings but instead mobile home-like structures that contain both a 1 and 2 bedroom apartment. Not many people know of this complex and because it doesn’t have its own website I didn’t come across it as I did my online apartment research. Then as I was pondering emergency plans like living in my office or commuting from a nearby town, I remembered these particular apartments andhow cute and private the area was and how both of my friends appeared to have liked living there. So I called them both and asked for their honest opinion, grabbed one of my most honest friends, and went to tour the models.

From start to finish, I was impressed with what this complex offered. Gone were the gimmicks and hidden strings attached. Unlike most massive complexes, I would only share one wall with a neighbor and would have parking directly outside of my door. The floor plan was open without being cavernous or overwhelming, and there was tons of cabinet and storage space. After looking at both the 1 and 2 bedroom models and asking the leasing agent every question I could come up with, I decided I preferred the 2 bedroom apartment and walked away feeling positive about the experience and opportunity to live there. Now, I just have to apply.

Despite how awesome this place sounds and was, I want to be sure that this is the right place for me. So I’ve decided to wait until the end of the week to apply. Why? Well, because if I truly believe that God has this whole situation under control, then I want to take a few days to pray about my decision. I don’t want to act rashly and make a desperate decision based upon relief at finding a place that is not the right place. Currently, they have five 2 bedroom apartments available so I have no really worry that by this time next week, the apartment I’m praying over will be gone. I’m sure part of me is waiting patiently for guidance because a large part of who I am is praying for a miracle. Praying that this season in my life isn’t over and that I’m not being asked to step away from something I so desperately love. I guess, soon enough, I’ll know and then I’ll be begging you to help me move. So if prayer is something you put faith in, pray for me. I could use it.

• 5:00 am: Woke with a migraine (I love you, Excedrin)
• 10:00 am: Finally drag myself to work to find that everything is broken at new office.
• 1:00 pm: Go to old office. Fight with Japanese laptop. Stay at work til 5.
• 5:05 pm: Start grilling at BBQ for 50 neighbors. Grill 50 hamburgers and 80 hot dogs in next two hours. (Might have met my twin who was visting his mom from NYC. Loves Steely Dan AND talking about sports. ) Clean up after BBQ.
• 9:00 pm: Go to Ian’s to play RockBand and bake cookies. Officially, rolled my first d20.
• 11:50 pm: Made homemade guacamole for Erica’s graduation BBQ tomorrow.
• 11:55 pm:  Blog before collapsing into bed.

Until then I leave you with two things: My first pic of RockBand and Cory rockin’ out.

Another Hint: Thirty minutes before I serve the chicken, I take it out (keeping it warm) and add another can of El Pato, two small cans of Salsa Casera, and boiling water to the spicy chicken broth mixture left in the crockpot. Then, I add instant rice to this mixture and cover keeping the ratio 1.5 parts liquid to 1 part rice for instant spicy Spanish rice!

Green Chili Beef Taco Meat:
I make green chili beef the same way with just a few modifications. First of all, when I can find it on-sale ($2/lb) I prefer to use London broil but have also used pork loin and various roasts when needed. Instead of El Pato, I use Herdez’s Salsa Verde, a Mexican salsa with tomatillos, chiles, onions, garlic and cilantro, for beef and pork in a ratio of a 16 oz. jar of salsa to every 3-4 lbs of meat using half at the start and the rest about an hour before serving. Keep in mind, London broil tends to take longer to cook than chicken so make sure to cook it on high for at least 8 hours before serving. This mixture will need to be shredded with a fork before serving. If it doesn’t shred easily, it’s not cooked completely.

The best part of these meats is you can use them in so many ways. Usually, I serve them on corn tortillas that I’ve quickly dipped in hot oil, hard taco shells, or soft-taco sized flour tortillas with a wide range of condiments including cheese, sour cream, guacamole, lettuce, tomatoes, rice, beans, and salsa. However, you can make taco salads, enchiladas, nachos, taquitos, or anything else you can come up with. So the next time you need to feed a hundred for less than $0.60 a person or are looking to make dinner easily while you’re at work for the day… these tacos are the way to go, I promise.

For the next 45 minutes I knocked on every door in our complex where there were kids, and he searched for her throughout the rest of the grounds. We had kids on bikes riding along the streets, and as each minute passed, I grew more and more afraid of where this three-year old could have possible disappeared to. After looking in every possible place, the dad called the 911 as I kept searching. By this time, we were frantic, and more than a few tears had escaped. Just as we saw the first officer pull up and head over to speak to us, her curly-haired head peaked up over the railing as she yelled at me, “Hey, Lohra, we’re watching a movie.” I can’t even explain the sense of relief that washed over me as she skipped down and hopped in my arms. I yelled to her dad that we had found her and watched as his 6’4 frame sunk to the ground exhausted and in tears. The next few moments flew by as I carried her to her distraught father and delivered the news her mom that she had been found. Apparently, before the mom had left to go grocery shopping Mya had said that she was going over to another neighbor’s house to watch a movie, and when we had called and knocked on that neighbor’s door, they couldn’t hear anything from the back room over the television.

Realizing their dad needed some time to compose himself and deal with the police, I rounded up the kids and headed to my apartment to feed them lunch. After lemonade and Mac & Cheese, I put the movie Freaky Friday on as Mya curled up in my lap as if nothing had ever happened. Eventually, my hands stopped shaking and heart slowed down, and we all settled into a relieved lull. Halfway through the movie, she sat up, turned around, put both of her hands on the side of my face and whispered to me, “Ya know, Lohra… I was just watching a movie. You didn’t have to get so scared.” Then, she gave me a huge hug and kiss on the cheek before settling back down. It took everything within me to not tear up again just at thinking about not having her smiles and hugs all the time.

My parents lost Zac on multiple occassions when he was younger due to his need to run and be free at all times, and I remember the feeling of being the older sister wondering and worrying where he was. As much as I love him and would give anything for him, that feeling was nothing like that feeling of losing a child as an adult, and while I know that’s part of parenting and having kids, I can’t help but wonder if I’m ready for it…

The highlight of my day had to be when my favorite 3-year old, who was sitting in my lap, told me to close my eyes and pretend to be asleep. I complied with her request and closed my eyes while continuing to chat with her dad. Out of no where she pulled back and slapped me across the face. Holy, crap did it hurt! My eyes teared up… my teeth hurt. That lil ‘angel’ throws quite a punch. Her dad was horrified but it was difficult to not laugh at her. She seemed surprised that she hit me as hard as she did, and after a hug, all was forgiven. Of course I did walk around for the rest of the afternoon with a small red hand print on my right cheek…oops!