Happy Father's Day!

I managed to be the first in the family to wish Larry a Happy Father's Day, as Susie decided to wake us up at 4 this morning by puking in our bed. Being seasoned parents, our reflexes kicked in immediately - Larry leapt out of bed and started throwing towels at me to try to minimize the damage, while I traumatized the throw-up-ee by trying to clean her up while holding her at arm's length. While we were stripping the sheets off the bed, I commented that it was just as well - I was going to wash the bed linens today anyway. Larry responded with "Cool! That's just perfect! I'm glad this happened then!" Some people are sort of sarcastic when they're woken up too early, don't you think? So I let him sleep in a bit (all the way 'til 7) while I took Susie downstairs until she fell asleep in my arms an hour or so later. I hope Larry didn't expect a present on top of that.

While I was sitting there, martyring myself by forgoing sleep, I realized that today is the 17th anniversary of the day that Larry and I met. I resisted the urge to wake him up just to tell him. Sometimes I am able to act somewhat mature, you know. But sitting up with the baby gave me time to ponder, "Gee, if I could have foreseen this day 17 years ago, would I have acted differently?" Of course not. I mean, I don't think so. When Larry did wake up, I had to ask him the same question. "Would you have acted differently? Would you have run like hell?" His answer, of course, was, "Certainly not." That man hasn't been married all these years for nothing, you know. He knows the right answer, even when he's barely awake.

Theo has run away from home to spend the summer working at Boy Scout camp. I hope he decides to come back. Someone has to cook dinner around here. Larry took him down there on Saturday; so I got to spend all day amusing the little ones (with not too much help from Anna, who was not at all pleased on Friday to learn that she would not be returning to public school next year). Anna was shocked, shocked, to learn that her behavior was nowhere close to meeting our expectations these past 9 months - apparently, we were speaking Urdu all those times that we warned her to shape up.

The new house is a mess - full of boxes of camping gear, handyman tools, and I don't know what-all. Someday we'll get the attic planked over and be able to hide this stuff up there; in the meantime, however, this house feels smaller than the old one. But we're paying more for it. Which isn't a good feeling. The new windows arrive tomorrow (thanks, Grandpa!) - so Larry had to spend a lot of time today moving the boxes around to provide access for the window installers. He's not really been having the best of Father's Days, I guess. Tough. This move was all his idea anyway.

My birthday is coming up this week, which provides me with a nice excuse to sit around and eat bon-bons all day (and no, that's not what I do normally - normally, I sit around and yell at the kids all day). I'm not exactly expecting a present from Anna, though. Maybe she'll decide to refrain for the day from telling me how much she hates me. That would be nice.

Movin' On Up

We're moving! The fun...has begun! Ha, ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha! (I'm not sure, but I think that is how one would spell out hysterical laughter.) We're fine, really. We just have to figure out how to get everything that is in this house, into that other house. No problem. Especially with all the help we're getting from Anna, the one-armed mover. She keeps the other hand in her pocket, to illustrate just how much she doesn't care about the outcome of this whole process. Larry foiled my plans for an easy move by returning from his working retreat (oxymoron if I ever heard one) before I could manage to get the Salvation Army to show up with a really large truck for all of his junk. Whatever happens, that crap is not going back into my laundry room. Because it's even smaller this time. Bigger house, smaller laundry room, fewer storage closets - get the picture? More space for living, less space for junk. Now that's my kind of house.

The kids are all quite excited, except Anna of course, whose brain is still in some hormone-addled fog. Susie was so excited that she tried to help me paint our new hall closet while I wasn't looking. Serves me right for trying to get something accomplished. I won't attempt that again, that's for sure. Instead, I'll just take the kids to the pool. We had our inaugural 2007 visit yesterday, and being at the pool was just as wonderful as I remembered its being. I mean, until someone's kid (not mine, thank goodness) threw up into the splash pool. But I figure 48 hours will be enough time for things to become decontaminated enough for us to go back. If I'm wrong, everyone here will be throwing up next week while we're trying to move. Let's face it, we're not going to get off easy on this relocation thing. Something is going to happen, it's just a matter of what. At least it won't be chicken pox like last year. Hurricane, maybe? Who knows?

Of course, it doesn't help to have the carpet layers informing me that the outside wall of the basement bedroom is rotted out. So Larry tore out all the dry wall - somehow, it doesn't seem like my dream house with the exposed cinder block and studding. I'm trying not to look until he gets it fixed. Burying my head in the sand is what I do best.

David turns 10 next week, and I'm just praying I don't forget. And that I can find the cake pans in time.

So, if anyone is feeling bored this Wednesday or Thursday or Friday and happens to be in our area, and maybe feels the need for a little exercise, feel free to come on by to help out. Or you could just bring a chair and some snacks and sit and watch the fun. We live to entertain.