The first order is to announce that it's JAKE'S BIRTHDAY! He's lucky 7 today... well it will be today by the time most of you, for those of you who actually read what I write, will be reading this. That "today" would be the 13th, So...
HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAKE!
As you might imagine, life at the nuthouse... or as I like to call it, the asylum... is nothing but typical. Just trying to keep the shards of our sanity intact long enough to make it to the end of the day.
Ana has taken up mimicry... mimicry of Lyndsey. Her facial expressions, her reactions, her sayings (at least the ones she can say) and the most important of all, the fake cry... Waaaaah! is anyone looking? Waaaaah!
She's also discovered that the ottomans that we used to block the exits of the family room are no longer an obstacle as she has learned to climb up and over them. She's quite proud. Us... not so much since now it means that we'll have to somehow mechanically attach her to the floor in there.
With her new found freedom, she likes to go on expeditions. One point of interest to her is the bathroom. We keep the door closed, but every once in a while, someone (not always, but usually Lyndsey) leaves it open with the lid up. To Ana, this is an open invitation to play in the little white pool in there and splash about. To make matters worse, one time Julie "caught" her in there and when she told her no, she took her wet hand and fingers and...
And...
And...
and before Julie could stop her, she put them in her mouth.
AAAAAHHHHHH!
So now the toilet has been drained and the lid riveted closed. (don't go and get all technical, I'm well aware that the porcelain would crack if riveted... so boo hoo.)
We recently received a (hand delivered) love letter from our good friend Witchiepoo a.k.a our nemesis Barb (sans the smile and makeup) stating that the hysterical committee would like us to attend the next meeting, the last Wednesday of the month (the 28th) so they, I mean we, can discuss their concerns about the appropriateness, or inappropriateness, of our newly installed (by yours truly) front door. The way I see it is like this; it's my house, we pay the bills and the upkeep (as it is), last I checked, it's still a free country, they didn't pony up any money for the purchase of the door.... hmmm... seems appropriate to me. It's been my understanding all along that the committee can recommend, but can't force us to do stuff. Another thing mentioned in the letter was that they (the committee) want to help. Okay, leave us alone then... that would be the biggest help of all. Every time they help, I come away really pissed off. Though as a good friend of mine sez... "far better thing to be pissed off, than pissed on." Funny how I'm feeling it both ways.
I'll keep ya posted upon conclusion of this little soirée.
So like I mentioned, the front door is in and I have less than one quarter (of the total) left that needs to be sided in the porch area, so that part of it is almost done.
Sorry, going to go back to the compassion and encouragement/appreciation aspect of this appropriateness, or inappropriateness, of our front door. I just want to say that we've done more for this damn house than anyone else has and are the only ones (apparently foolish enough) to attempt to restore it (as best as possible) to it's 1889 original grandeur. I don't toot my own horn, it's just not who I am, but I've received numerous compliments on the house. People saying that it's looking great... I mean people have been driving and stopped. So when Witchiepoo handed me the letter, there was nothing. Not even one little "It's coming along nicely" or "It's looking good" or "You've made good progress" Nothing! Or even a "how's your daughter doing?"... and they know. Just pointing out where we've seemingly F'd it up. Sorry about that... as you can see, it gets me pretty rankled.
Not much of anything else to write about really. The kids, in spite of washing their hands in the toilet, are doing well. Emmah continues to do well and will be getting her port taken out soon. The last clinic visit, the doctor asked Julie why Emmah still has her port in and why hasn't it been removed yet? Uh... cuz you (nor anyone else for that matter) ever said that it should/could come out. When that happens, then she will go to clinic every two months instead of every one.
School is almost out so Emmah made it though the school year and the first year of Jr. High. That (the end of the school year) also means that Nick will be becoming a 5th grader and then will only be another year from Jr. High. I think I heard another hair groan and turn gray.
If any of you felt a tremor during your Sunday morning routine, specifically the morning of the 27th of April, don't be alarmed, it was just the world skipping a beat because I went to church. That's right, you read it right the first time... I went to church. The first time (excluding baptisms and they don't count anyway) in... hmmm... I better not say. Honestly, I don't rightly know how long, but it's part of a promise I need to make good on and plan on working at keeping.
Okay, this should do it for now... I'm working on the next MAW entry, but again, just not motivated to finish it and add the photos and the slide shows.
As always... KUIYTAP
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