In a shoutout to my friend Wonder, may I just say I was quite fah-tee-gwayed yesterday. We are now in Visalia. Our vehicles arrived the day after we did, and it was very satisfying to see our cars arrive here to join us. The rest of the stuff arrived the next day. That was very satisfying to see, too, but then it meant a HUGE amount of work in a short time. Marce and I, our sister-in-law (you GO, girl!), two missionaries, and four others (including an 11-year-old boy) participated in unloading the whole almost-28-feet of tractor trailer stuffed full of our material possessions. In 6 hours. Marce and I were pretty steady going that whole time, with the others kind of coming and going. It was unreal, looking at that huge truck full of things, packed to the gills, and knowing that we had to get it all transferred into a storage shed. Very soon after starting, I realized the one storage shed we had reserved (10x20) was NOT going to do it. So I got another one across the little driveway, and we had two places to put our stuff.
The sun beat down on us, and we went through a bunch of bottles of water and a couple of jugs of Gatorade. I didn't eat lunch for fear I'd just want to throw up. Towards the end of the afternoon, though, we both wanted to throw up from the work and heat. But we didn't. We held out. We managed to get it all unloaded, so the trucking company could pick up the truck today and get it out of the way of other people's storage sheds.
So we were majorly fatigued. And dirty and dusty. Showers have never felt better. And we celebrated with a fantastic Mexican dinner at a restaurant I found in downtown Visalia. Picked it out of the phone book. New fave Mexican place. It was wonderful. There were a number of Mexican places back in Anniston, but I never found anything I really liked. This was perfect. Hit the spot! We'll be going back soon.
So I fell into bed shortly after 9 p.m. and slept until 6:30. Then I went back to sleep after a bit until almost 8. Then I slept for almost 3 hours midday. I'm feeling a bit more like myself now. And no more moving for about another month, when we'll get to put all that stuff from the sheds onto moving trucks and take it across town and put them -- at last -- into our new home. o
We found a really cool house here. It's almost 3000 square feet, not counting the basement, and it's got a way cool front door. Medieval. It's got a little door set in the old wood, and metal bars across that. There's a second set of stairs in the back of the house going from the kitchen up to a small bedroom that I'm claiming as my office. Tons of storage space, lots of room to put all that junk we just carted cross-country and hefted in and out of that huge tractor-trailer. I don't want to have to move EVER AGAIN. I said that 2 years ago when we moved into our bigger house in Anniston, and I am saying it now with even greater fervor. We will only move again if we get incredibly rich and a moving company can do it entirely for us. It cost a small fortune to get here as it was, and that was supplemented with the blood, sweat and tears of us and a whole lot of incredibly dedicated friends who are now probably quite glad we're not around to be moved anymore!
So now we wait. We put in an offer on this house today and hope it will yield a contract within just a few days (at least this one's not on short sale -- it's already been foreclosed on) so we can have proof of some kind of residence so the girls can start school. School started today but we're just having to let them be truant for a few days. But then they can start in their permanent schools and not have to switch. The house is just a few blocks from the elementary, middle and high schools, and two blocks away from the church. That is very handy indeed. The girls can walk and won't even have to school-bus it. And with the high price of gas, I certainly won't be driving them!
And we wait for Marce's license to be approved/renewed here in California. He first received his license here 11 years ago. Since we've been in Alabama the past 10 years, he's had a license active there. Now getting it back here is taking some time. Please just pray for us that he'll get it renewed soon so he can start working next week! A paycheck would come in pretty handy, let me tell ya.
And we wait for our house to sell in Alabama. The money from that will also come in VERY handy.
So we wait. And I sleep, apparently. I am so eager to be in our own house again. But in the meantime, we are very much enjoying being with Marce's brother's family. Watching all the girls be with their cousins has been wonderful. It is really making it worth all this hassle. So neat.
And I sign off now to get some more sleep! I think it'll be awhile till I'm really "caught up."
Friday, August 15, 2008
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Tragicomedy of errors
So I took an honors Shakespeare course my first semester at BYU. I had to write essays on what comedy and tragedy meant in Shakespearean terms. So I could technically say that our move has been a comedy. It will turn out to have a good ending as Shakespeare would write it. In the middle, however, it's just been a little shaky.
We are now in California, so at least we've made it this far. Our stuff is all on a 28-foot tractor-trailer (hopefully) bound for California. We should be getting it around Wednesday or Thursday in Visalia.
Here's the rundown on move week:
Last Saturday and Sunday I was dead sick. Coughing, wheezing in my upper respiratory area, dead tired, exhausted, etc. I stayed in bed all weekend. No packing.
On Monday of this week, the car shipper picked up both of our vehicles. I managed to raise myself from my sickbed enough to do some packing and organizing, with little breaks. The vehicles then were gone and we were without cars.
Late Monday night, Cami woke up feeling icky and then proceeded to throw up. She continued this throughout late evening Tuesday. I lost another whole day of packing. But I did go into work to do my last book page editing. I caved and rented a car so I'd be able to get there.
Wednesday was really crunch time. The trailer was delivered that afternoon. I tried to do more packing. I also did my last batches of laundry. Wednesday night I started to get panicky.
Thursday was it. Friends came in that morning to help me pack up everything I hadn't gotten to, which was a whole heckuva lot. Sicknesses didn't help, of course. I still was hacking and wheezing, but I had enough energy to drag myself around to pack and give directions.
Marce had his last day of work. He came home around 11 a.m. I sent him to go get the little rental Budget truck we needed solely for its ramp, which turned out not to be a huge help. But the tractor-trailer didn't have a ramp, and it was 4 feet off the ground. Just picture it: huge refrigerator (I love it so I wouldn't possibly leave it behind), washer, dryer. Heavy sleeper sofa.
Shortly after I sent Marce to get the truck, an Alagasco pickup parked on the street in front of my house. It was towing a strange driller truck. I felt a bit panicky. I asked, "So, gas people, whatsa happenin?" Gas leak. Gotta fix it. Yeah, um, not really the ideal time for you to be doing heavy work like this out front of my house. Oh well. Most likely won't be in the way. We'll cross our fingers.
An hour later, it started dumping rain. Stopped in half an hour. I am still inside, wheezing away.
We're packing, men are loading the truck. Are we making progress? Doesn't look like it.
A couple hours later, I am trying to make arrangements for Mac, our cat, to be shipped via Delta's air cargo. I'm on the phone 45 minutes before I get a workable plan figured out.
Two hours later, Mac has escaped the hubbub of the house. He hides under the house in the crawl space.
Two hours after that, Marce tries to get Mac out from under the house. He goes in the crawl space and instructs a horde of about 8 kids to position themselves out in the back yard, ready to grab Mac. Marce gets Mac out in the yard; none of the 8 kids catch him. Mac runs into other people's back yards. Marce, steam pretty much visibly coming out his ears, steps into the house, covered in mud. His old clothes go in the trash bag, and we wonder if we'll have to write off Mac. At 10 p.m. Mac shows back up at the back door, meowing. I quietly try to get him inside. He runs away, never to be seen again before we leave town. Today, I canceled his reservation to be shipped. We're sad, Mac is free, and we save about $350 in shipping and associated costs.
Around 7 p.m. Marce surveys the house. I've been surveying it myself. It doesn't look very empty. We've been working our friends like dogs, and there seems to be no end in sight. Marce starts to panic. I feel for him on the one hand but on the other say, "So now you get why I've been so stressed for a month?" I try to stay strong in his panicky moment. How are we gonna do this? We just HAVE TO, that's how.
We're still in the house just past 10 p.m. We have a bunch of odds and ends still scattered, but the big stuff is all on the tractor-trailer. I've reserved 19 feet of the 28-foot trailer, and it's looking like we might use the whole darn thing. $163 extra per linear foot. Yikes!
We go to our hotel nearby and enjoy amazing showers. We could theoretically get 7 or 8 hours of sleep, but Marce and I probably get about 4 hours all told. Too much still weighs on our minds. We chow down on breakfast and get back to work.
We deliver our old entertainment center (yeah, we're not even taking that or the TV or a sofa) to a friend's house. We return the truck, which was $50 but almost useless. We race back to the house. We are helped tremendously by several loyal friends who see the look of despair and madness on our faces. We box up all the rest of the junk in the house and then leave behind a whole lot of stuff in the barn and a few odds and ends in the house for our friends to pick through and claim as their own.
We race to the hotel. First, I run to the school to get some forms for Marissa for her new school in California. We shower again. I rearrange the suitcases a bit. I try to make sure the huge suitcase is almost entirely clothes so it doesn't go over the 50 pound weight limit. We run by Marce's work for a check. We run in the bank to do three transactions. We hustle to the car rental place to return the car. We scoot out of town and cross our fingers, since it's 12:15 p.m. and our flight leaves at 2:10 p.m. and it's a one-hour drive to the airport. Our good comrade from the ward and neighbor down the street drives us all and our luggage and carry-ons. We make it to the airport at 1:20. We check in (the big bag weighs 59 pounds. Arrgh. $25 extra charge. And no, I don't think I can rearrange it to get 9 pounds out. I'll be happy to fork over 25 bucks.) We go through security. I pay $23 for three sandwiches and a banana to hold us over until we reach Chicago. We have a good flight. In Chicago, we have less than an hour before our next flight leaves, and we all swallow McDonald's burgers and fries in record time. We board our plane and sigh a huge sigh of relief that we are actually about done with this segment of our move.
And here we are at Marce's dad's house. It's Saturday, and we sleep some long naps indeed. I wash the sweat out of our clothes. I shower and even put on makeup and we all enjoy a nice dinner out with Marce's dad's family. Things are looking OK. But now comes the big second part of the move. Stay tuned for Act II. Let's cross our fingers on this one.
We are now in California, so at least we've made it this far. Our stuff is all on a 28-foot tractor-trailer (hopefully) bound for California. We should be getting it around Wednesday or Thursday in Visalia.
Here's the rundown on move week:
Last Saturday and Sunday I was dead sick. Coughing, wheezing in my upper respiratory area, dead tired, exhausted, etc. I stayed in bed all weekend. No packing.
On Monday of this week, the car shipper picked up both of our vehicles. I managed to raise myself from my sickbed enough to do some packing and organizing, with little breaks. The vehicles then were gone and we were without cars.
Late Monday night, Cami woke up feeling icky and then proceeded to throw up. She continued this throughout late evening Tuesday. I lost another whole day of packing. But I did go into work to do my last book page editing. I caved and rented a car so I'd be able to get there.
Wednesday was really crunch time. The trailer was delivered that afternoon. I tried to do more packing. I also did my last batches of laundry. Wednesday night I started to get panicky.
Thursday was it. Friends came in that morning to help me pack up everything I hadn't gotten to, which was a whole heckuva lot. Sicknesses didn't help, of course. I still was hacking and wheezing, but I had enough energy to drag myself around to pack and give directions.
Marce had his last day of work. He came home around 11 a.m. I sent him to go get the little rental Budget truck we needed solely for its ramp, which turned out not to be a huge help. But the tractor-trailer didn't have a ramp, and it was 4 feet off the ground. Just picture it: huge refrigerator (I love it so I wouldn't possibly leave it behind), washer, dryer. Heavy sleeper sofa.
Shortly after I sent Marce to get the truck, an Alagasco pickup parked on the street in front of my house. It was towing a strange driller truck. I felt a bit panicky. I asked, "So, gas people, whatsa happenin?" Gas leak. Gotta fix it. Yeah, um, not really the ideal time for you to be doing heavy work like this out front of my house. Oh well. Most likely won't be in the way. We'll cross our fingers.
An hour later, it started dumping rain. Stopped in half an hour. I am still inside, wheezing away.
We're packing, men are loading the truck. Are we making progress? Doesn't look like it.
A couple hours later, I am trying to make arrangements for Mac, our cat, to be shipped via Delta's air cargo. I'm on the phone 45 minutes before I get a workable plan figured out.
Two hours later, Mac has escaped the hubbub of the house. He hides under the house in the crawl space.
Two hours after that, Marce tries to get Mac out from under the house. He goes in the crawl space and instructs a horde of about 8 kids to position themselves out in the back yard, ready to grab Mac. Marce gets Mac out in the yard; none of the 8 kids catch him. Mac runs into other people's back yards. Marce, steam pretty much visibly coming out his ears, steps into the house, covered in mud. His old clothes go in the trash bag, and we wonder if we'll have to write off Mac. At 10 p.m. Mac shows back up at the back door, meowing. I quietly try to get him inside. He runs away, never to be seen again before we leave town. Today, I canceled his reservation to be shipped. We're sad, Mac is free, and we save about $350 in shipping and associated costs.
Around 7 p.m. Marce surveys the house. I've been surveying it myself. It doesn't look very empty. We've been working our friends like dogs, and there seems to be no end in sight. Marce starts to panic. I feel for him on the one hand but on the other say, "So now you get why I've been so stressed for a month?" I try to stay strong in his panicky moment. How are we gonna do this? We just HAVE TO, that's how.
We're still in the house just past 10 p.m. We have a bunch of odds and ends still scattered, but the big stuff is all on the tractor-trailer. I've reserved 19 feet of the 28-foot trailer, and it's looking like we might use the whole darn thing. $163 extra per linear foot. Yikes!
We go to our hotel nearby and enjoy amazing showers. We could theoretically get 7 or 8 hours of sleep, but Marce and I probably get about 4 hours all told. Too much still weighs on our minds. We chow down on breakfast and get back to work.
We deliver our old entertainment center (yeah, we're not even taking that or the TV or a sofa) to a friend's house. We return the truck, which was $50 but almost useless. We race back to the house. We are helped tremendously by several loyal friends who see the look of despair and madness on our faces. We box up all the rest of the junk in the house and then leave behind a whole lot of stuff in the barn and a few odds and ends in the house for our friends to pick through and claim as their own.
We race to the hotel. First, I run to the school to get some forms for Marissa for her new school in California. We shower again. I rearrange the suitcases a bit. I try to make sure the huge suitcase is almost entirely clothes so it doesn't go over the 50 pound weight limit. We run by Marce's work for a check. We run in the bank to do three transactions. We hustle to the car rental place to return the car. We scoot out of town and cross our fingers, since it's 12:15 p.m. and our flight leaves at 2:10 p.m. and it's a one-hour drive to the airport. Our good comrade from the ward and neighbor down the street drives us all and our luggage and carry-ons. We make it to the airport at 1:20. We check in (the big bag weighs 59 pounds. Arrgh. $25 extra charge. And no, I don't think I can rearrange it to get 9 pounds out. I'll be happy to fork over 25 bucks.) We go through security. I pay $23 for three sandwiches and a banana to hold us over until we reach Chicago. We have a good flight. In Chicago, we have less than an hour before our next flight leaves, and we all swallow McDonald's burgers and fries in record time. We board our plane and sigh a huge sigh of relief that we are actually about done with this segment of our move.
And here we are at Marce's dad's house. It's Saturday, and we sleep some long naps indeed. I wash the sweat out of our clothes. I shower and even put on makeup and we all enjoy a nice dinner out with Marce's dad's family. Things are looking OK. But now comes the big second part of the move. Stay tuned for Act II. Let's cross our fingers on this one.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Moving
So it's official: we are truly out of limbo and really moving. The date is less than three weeks away. I've been packing like crazy, sorting, organizing, throwing, recycling, giving away, selling, and making phone calls. I've been choreographing car shipping, truck rental, plane tickets, home selling, home buying, Marce's job details and professional licensure, and all the other moves associated with moving. I'm starting to feel a bit like the girl with the red shoes (I think that's it), in which the poor girl of the fairy tale puts on shoes that dance with her in them and never stop. She gets danced to death because she can't take them off. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to take these "shoes" off in about 6 weeks, but I'm not sure I'll not be danced to death by then. Cross your fingers for me.
Sleep has become a commodity much sought-after but continually elusive. I'm like those commercials for sleep aids, before some butterfly flitters by a peacefully slumbering actor. I've been thinking the silver lining of this cloud is that at least I'll already be acclimated to the Pacific time zone, two hours earlier. Midnight here is a respectable 10 p.m. there. Voila! Of course, the other side is that I've been waking up at 5 or 6, so will I be waking at 3 or 4 there? I hope that I'll at least just be waking with the early light.
In the meantime, I'm still doing laundry, cooking (well, a little less), cleaning, doing dishes, prying fighting children apart, etc.
Either way, Visalia, here we come! We will definitely be in town by Aug. 11, the day before school registration. It would be nice to be in our own home, but we may very well be staying with family still. Should be quite a fun crowd!
Sleep has become a commodity much sought-after but continually elusive. I'm like those commercials for sleep aids, before some butterfly flitters by a peacefully slumbering actor. I've been thinking the silver lining of this cloud is that at least I'll already be acclimated to the Pacific time zone, two hours earlier. Midnight here is a respectable 10 p.m. there. Voila! Of course, the other side is that I've been waking up at 5 or 6, so will I be waking at 3 or 4 there? I hope that I'll at least just be waking with the early light.
In the meantime, I'm still doing laundry, cooking (well, a little less), cleaning, doing dishes, prying fighting children apart, etc.
Either way, Visalia, here we come! We will definitely be in town by Aug. 11, the day before school registration. It would be nice to be in our own home, but we may very well be staying with family still. Should be quite a fun crowd!
Reunited and it feels so ... odd
So last month was my high school 20-year reunion. Yikes! I can't believe it was 20 years ago I finished high school and was finally able to go West to college, what I'd dreamed about for years.
I didn't get to go to the 10th reunion because I was about to give birth to Marissa. Traveling in a car for about 6 hours didn't seem like a good idea at the time. I figured this time I was bound to go. Since we have been planning on moving, it was also a good time to attend, since I wouldn't be back for a while.
So I went. I wasn't happy about my larger figure (thanks, stress!) but I got gussied up in a pretty pink dress and put on makeup and actually spent 20 minutes with my hair. Rare I get to do THAT, I'll tell ya.
Aside from the weight, I was apprehensive. I wasn't particularly close to a lot of people in my high school, mainly because I was only there for 2 years. But I thought I would be happy to see several, so I went. It wasn't too bad. I was shocked at how OLD so many people looked! Some looked just the same, and several told me I looked exactly the same (I guess they were overlooking the weight gain). So it was all a fairly good boost for me as I realized that not everyone has stayed the same as 20 years ago, so I'm entitled to a little change. (That has kind of faded with the passage of a few weeks and the visuals I've gotten of myself in photos there. Aack! The mirror is much kinder.)
I stayed a few hours, showed off my "arm candy" (my handsome husband), and exchanged hugs and conversations. It was interesting how some of the less mature students I knew then have grown up and become pretty responsible, likable people! Very reassuring. Of course, there were a couple who were obnoxious then who have become ten times more obnoxious. Goes both ways, I guess.
All in all, I came out of it fairly unscathed. I just hope that if I go to the 50th, I'll have lost these 35 extra pounds...
I didn't get to go to the 10th reunion because I was about to give birth to Marissa. Traveling in a car for about 6 hours didn't seem like a good idea at the time. I figured this time I was bound to go. Since we have been planning on moving, it was also a good time to attend, since I wouldn't be back for a while.
So I went. I wasn't happy about my larger figure (thanks, stress!) but I got gussied up in a pretty pink dress and put on makeup and actually spent 20 minutes with my hair. Rare I get to do THAT, I'll tell ya.
Aside from the weight, I was apprehensive. I wasn't particularly close to a lot of people in my high school, mainly because I was only there for 2 years. But I thought I would be happy to see several, so I went. It wasn't too bad. I was shocked at how OLD so many people looked! Some looked just the same, and several told me I looked exactly the same (I guess they were overlooking the weight gain). So it was all a fairly good boost for me as I realized that not everyone has stayed the same as 20 years ago, so I'm entitled to a little change. (That has kind of faded with the passage of a few weeks and the visuals I've gotten of myself in photos there. Aack! The mirror is much kinder.)
I stayed a few hours, showed off my "arm candy" (my handsome husband), and exchanged hugs and conversations. It was interesting how some of the less mature students I knew then have grown up and become pretty responsible, likable people! Very reassuring. Of course, there were a couple who were obnoxious then who have become ten times more obnoxious. Goes both ways, I guess.
All in all, I came out of it fairly unscathed. I just hope that if I go to the 50th, I'll have lost these 35 extra pounds...
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Crazed
I think that with the very good possibility of a pending move and all the usual things going on, plus its being summertime, my brain just might explode. Even Marce is having a bit harder of a time getting to sleep at night, what with new interesting things popping up here and there. The night before last, I had a different real-estate search engine open and had made it a certain way through, and he kept on looking past where I had. So he comes to me at 10:45 at night (I was actually in bed, for once not staying up late reading -- the only quiet time I had alone) and says, "You've got to see this house." And he was right. We both LOVE it. It's "affordable" and is full of styles that we love. It reminds me a bit of the house we rented for a year in California before we moved here. So of course, we stayed up looking at all the pictures (of which there were 21, which was very nice) and me running numbers and hopping up and down a bit (literally) for him to allow me to take the keyboard and look up info on the agent so I could email her. Then we tossed around in bed for a while before we finally fell off to sleep.
So today, I decided it was really best for my health and sanity to take some time, first thing after I dropped off Charlotte at her "day care/camp/preschool" (whatever you'd like to call it), to take a nap. I dropped into bed around 10:15 and got up around 1 p.m. I am feeling a little more normal right now after having had some sleep. I still have lots of things to do (like pack, throw things away, give things away, ad nauseam) but I must have some energy to do them with.
The next thing coming up is my 20th high school reunion. That's this weekend. We're going to see Mom and I'll be trying to look my nicest for people I mostly haven't seen in 20 years. I'm kind of not looking forward to it. I know that there are people I'll be interested to visit with again, but I'm just kind of dreading it mostly because I'm kind of on the heavy side right now (thanks, stress...) and it's that typical "I hate people to see me like this" thing. It sounds terrible, but it's true. Just five years ago (or even three) I was looking trim and normal. Now... Arrrgh.
So I'm hoping that the weekend is fun, and from there, it will be a whirlwind of activity through the end of August. I almost wouldn't be surprised if I don't have another post on here until September. At least I'm somewhat up to date on here; my journal is another story (it was up to date... in March).
So today, I decided it was really best for my health and sanity to take some time, first thing after I dropped off Charlotte at her "day care/camp/preschool" (whatever you'd like to call it), to take a nap. I dropped into bed around 10:15 and got up around 1 p.m. I am feeling a little more normal right now after having had some sleep. I still have lots of things to do (like pack, throw things away, give things away, ad nauseam) but I must have some energy to do them with.
The next thing coming up is my 20th high school reunion. That's this weekend. We're going to see Mom and I'll be trying to look my nicest for people I mostly haven't seen in 20 years. I'm kind of not looking forward to it. I know that there are people I'll be interested to visit with again, but I'm just kind of dreading it mostly because I'm kind of on the heavy side right now (thanks, stress...) and it's that typical "I hate people to see me like this" thing. It sounds terrible, but it's true. Just five years ago (or even three) I was looking trim and normal. Now... Arrrgh.
So I'm hoping that the weekend is fun, and from there, it will be a whirlwind of activity through the end of August. I almost wouldn't be surprised if I don't have another post on here until September. At least I'm somewhat up to date on here; my journal is another story (it was up to date... in March).
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Leaving Limbo, We Hope
Marce now has an interview scheduled in California in two weeks. Things are moving along. It's exciting and a little scary. 'Cause that means we really are going to have to pack up and move, all the way across the country. It's 2,192 miles or so, according to Mapquest. Yikes! I just get butterflies (or some kind of bugs...) flittering around in my stomach when I think of all the possessions we have to move. I'm trying to shed them like our cats are shedding fur. But there
is always more stuff left, just as the cats seem to have endless amounts of fur to get rid of. I'm making a list now of all the big things to leave behind: the old, beat-up couch; the piano given to us free when we moved into our first place here; the car. The van we keep. It's crazy time. That's why I asked my doctor for some Valium or something similar the other day at a checkup! ;) Could be very useful, considering that swirling brain I've had lately on some evenings.
But seriously, life has been busy, but now I know it will swing into ultra-busy mode. It's a little nervous-making. But the move will be such a good thing for the girls, in particular, and nice for Marce. He'll be able to work in a rehab facility, with more neuro patients, 11 years after getting special training to do just that. Yay for Marce. Me, I'll just really, really miss my book page job here. I still have my website, though, so pass the word along about Rated Reads. I just love books!
is always more stuff left, just as the cats seem to have endless amounts of fur to get rid of. I'm making a list now of all the big things to leave behind: the old, beat-up couch; the piano given to us free when we moved into our first place here; the car. The van we keep. It's crazy time. That's why I asked my doctor for some Valium or something similar the other day at a checkup! ;) Could be very useful, considering that swirling brain I've had lately on some evenings.
But seriously, life has been busy, but now I know it will swing into ultra-busy mode. It's a little nervous-making. But the move will be such a good thing for the girls, in particular, and nice for Marce. He'll be able to work in a rehab facility, with more neuro patients, 11 years after getting special training to do just that. Yay for Marce. Me, I'll just really, really miss my book page job here. I still have my website, though, so pass the word along about Rated Reads. I just love books!
One Small Step for Charlotte-kind
She walked! She took four steps last night! Yay for Charlotte! What was really fun is that all of our family were gathered in the living room (Marce was watching the very disappointing final NBA game) and that I was on the phone with my mom. So all of us were able to see her take her first steps, and my mom got to hear us all cheering for her. Thrilling stuff. I have to admit, even on our fourth child, it's just as exciting as it was with our first. Could be even more so, since there are more of us to be excited! It's amazing how wondrous it is to watch a baby grow up and learn new things. It's always fresh and thrilling.
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