baby, you can drive my car

Wow. We've just made a decision (and acted upon it!) that I never would have expected from either of us a year or two ago. We've sold Dan's car and become a one-car family. Even though our plan is to only stay this way for about a year, I'm still pleased (though a little surprised) that we're doing it. We're both excited about it, though, and I know I'm looking forward to the adventure. I'm also glad for the opportunity to show the girls that there are creative ways to solve problems, and that even adults share!

The backstory is pretty simple: Dan's Audi has not had the track record we expected of an Audi. The year before the girls were born (so, 8 years ago), he sold his Single Guy Car, the Mitsubishi Eclipse, and bought a Audi A4. (I wanted him to get a car with four real seats, and he wanted a car that went Vroom.) The first few years were all well and good, except for the recall on the coil packs. Of course, in the interests of Audi's bottom line, owners could only get their coil packs replaced once they had actually failed. Ours were eventually replaced (twice!); we've also had issues with the timing belt and, most recently, the catalytic converters. See, the car has been failing to pass the state inspection for the past 2 months, after having the O2 sensors replaced. The computer just wouldn't reset, and eventually the Mass RMV Dude was able to clear out a few error messages and get the computer to reset . . . at which point the computer told us that the catalytic converters were blown. Frustrated, Dan took the car up to Audi for an official, manufacturer-provided diagnosis (over the phone, Audi claimed it was "probably just a sensor"). It turns out that in addition to the cats being blown (which is very possibly a result of the multiple coil pack failures), there are several other things wrong with the car . . . at least some of which may also be the result of the coil pack failures. (Can you say Domino Effect??) So we took it to a used-car dealer who looked it over and said he'd buy it (most likely to auction off).

In the meantime, though, we are officially a one-car household. We're squirreling away the proceeds from the Audi until Dan goes car-shopping next summer, and until then, we're going to get even better at scheduling. (Anyone who has seen my desk-blotter-size, color-coded family calendar knows that that is nearly impossible, but I'm sure I'll find a way.)

I love a good adventure!

You Say it's Your Birthday . . .

Well, it's my birthday, too! (Okay, not mine, but . . .)

Yep, Penny and Emma are six today. Before they went to bed, they spent a fair amount of time ruckusing around in their room because, in Penny's words, "that way, we'll be tired and fall asleep so the night won't be as long." (You may think that the longest night of the year is December 21st, but it's actually February 3rd. Now you know.) They've also agreed to wake each other up in the morning. According to Emma, whichever one of them wakes up first will go over to the other girl and say, "Hey, [that girl's name], open presents!"

We've left their gifts for each other in the dining room, so they have something to tear into first thing. Oh, and there will be their big pink banner in the living room and two giant "6" balloons. The rest of the loot will have to wait until the evening. Oh, and dinner at the Moose Place (Bugaboo Creek) about which we've already said we'll be okay -- we promised to not die of embarassment -- if they want to have the staff come out with the giant moose puppet and a dessert and sing to them. Which, being 6, they want. So.

Happy birthday, Munchkins! Being your mom is the coolest, most perpetually satisfying thing I've ever done. I love you.