Don't ask for a picture, at the moment. You'd get one of Miss Boo and Buddy taking all the kitchen washcloths and towels out and running around the living room spreading them, yelling "Kites!"
However, we're really remarkably peaceful. Littleman is sleeping, wrapped in a blankie, draped across my lap as I type. Miss Boo and Buddy are (kinda) watching Max & Ruby, one of the few sweet kiddy shows left on TV. (I have weird standards about kid's shows, apparently--not only do I not want violence or ugly, scary animation or more-than-usually-annoying-songs, I also don't want the kids on the shows to talk in snotty, bratty ways to each other and parents. This seems to limit us to about four shows out of everything on television, but that's ok.)
Miss Boo has, in the last week and a half or so, taken over the potty-training issue and has been taking herself potty without being reminded. She's almost ready to graduate entirely, I think.
Buddy, except for a distressing desire to climb into the bassinet (which after all makes an even better boat than a laundry basket), has been charmingly tender toward his little brother.
Littleman has put on a couple of chins in the course of the week. Tomorrow we have a doctor's appointment for him, and should find out whether he's got his birthweight back.
The Husband is travelling this week, down to our new digs to decide on which house we will buy, sight (by me) unseen. (He'll see the house, obviously.) I know, I know, but I really do trust him. He's got a good head on his shoulders, a cell phone, and a specific list of requirements from his wife. I believe I'd trust him even if it was 1903 and he was taking a train West, with me to follow in a month.
Really, considering what many people did in those times, the challenge of moving into one of five preselected nice houses (some with granite counters!) is not too severe. The children and I are decamping to Grammy's house after Littleman's appointment tomorrow, so I'll have it easy that way, too.
I had the thought yesterday "By this time next month, I'll live in another state". I had to immediately put it out of my mind, to save myself from gibbering. Things are sort of happening very fast now--our current house is sold, the movers have a drop-dead-solid date for packing up our stuff, and our hotel reservations for the moving trip are made. The only way the Husband and I have been able to keep from getting overwhelmed by it all is to not think farther than the next step. This is the opposite of how I live my life most of the time, so it's a very odd coping mechanism to have to use.
The baby's awfully cute, though.
Cheers,
Breanna
However, we're really remarkably peaceful. Littleman is sleeping, wrapped in a blankie, draped across my lap as I type. Miss Boo and Buddy are (kinda) watching Max & Ruby, one of the few sweet kiddy shows left on TV. (I have weird standards about kid's shows, apparently--not only do I not want violence or ugly, scary animation or more-than-usually-annoying-songs, I also don't want the kids on the shows to talk in snotty, bratty ways to each other and parents. This seems to limit us to about four shows out of everything on television, but that's ok.)
Miss Boo has, in the last week and a half or so, taken over the potty-training issue and has been taking herself potty without being reminded. She's almost ready to graduate entirely, I think.
Buddy, except for a distressing desire to climb into the bassinet (which after all makes an even better boat than a laundry basket), has been charmingly tender toward his little brother.
Littleman has put on a couple of chins in the course of the week. Tomorrow we have a doctor's appointment for him, and should find out whether he's got his birthweight back.
The Husband is travelling this week, down to our new digs to decide on which house we will buy, sight (by me) unseen. (He'll see the house, obviously.) I know, I know, but I really do trust him. He's got a good head on his shoulders, a cell phone, and a specific list of requirements from his wife. I believe I'd trust him even if it was 1903 and he was taking a train West, with me to follow in a month.
Really, considering what many people did in those times, the challenge of moving into one of five preselected nice houses (some with granite counters!) is not too severe. The children and I are decamping to Grammy's house after Littleman's appointment tomorrow, so I'll have it easy that way, too.
I had the thought yesterday "By this time next month, I'll live in another state". I had to immediately put it out of my mind, to save myself from gibbering. Things are sort of happening very fast now--our current house is sold, the movers have a drop-dead-solid date for packing up our stuff, and our hotel reservations for the moving trip are made. The only way the Husband and I have been able to keep from getting overwhelmed by it all is to not think farther than the next step. This is the opposite of how I live my life most of the time, so it's a very odd coping mechanism to have to use.
The baby's awfully cute, though.
Cheers,
Breanna
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