Cirque de Mom

Hmm. I don't remember all that's going on, but let's see...

The mold decontamination guys came on Wednesday the 12th. By Wednesday, we had spent the previous three days moving all the furniture away from the walls, removing everything from the walls, taking down all the curtains, and emptying all the closets, trying not to maim ourselves in the process. Remember, we're both well into our middle-age years. ;) I packed up the kids and the animals, and my mom picked them all up at 8 am Wednesday. I dumped the last of the closet clothes onto the beds, and covered them with sheets. I stayed long enough to get in the cleaners' way, then left for my mom's.

The Husband came down to my mom's after work, but since the "microbial bomb" was dissipated by bed time, he went back home to sleep and get ready for work the next day. The Boy had come down with a sniffly cold, but the kids and I stayed the night, and the kids pretty much went to bed on time.

Thursday morning, I got the kids up, cleaned my mother's house, packed the kids up, and went home. I got home mid-morning, and cleared the beds so that The Boy could nap until...

At 12:30, I packed everyone up and took them to dance class. We pulled into the parking lot with 30 seconds to spare, and The Boy tumbled out of the car onto the 120-degree pavement. I told him to move his butt, and he started puking ice water all over the ground. I had one hand free, so I hauled his butt up off the ground before the puke ran down his shorts legs, he finished puking, and we hauled it into dance class. The poor bystanders were looking at me like, "Wha? Oh well, looks like she's got it under control..."

A quick trip to the library followed, just to pick up a few books I had reserved for homeschool. The Boy got half-way to the door and collapsed on the ground. I berated him for being a divo, but no amount of persuasion could shift him either toward the library or the car. I finally packed it in, and he agreed to go home.

Whew! I don't remember what was for dinner, but you know I didn't cook it.

We've spent the past days unpacking. I swear, if we had moved houses, it wouldn't have been much more work. While The Boy's bunk bed was moved, I painted his room. Bright. Yellow. Now when you stand in the hallway, a golden glow comes from his room, and The Girl's room looks grey. More work. *sigh*

The plus side of all this is that I've been able to figure out just how much shit we have accumulated over the past eight years and compare it to the amount of shit we brought in boxes into the house eight years ago. I moved the clothes rack in the walk-in closet up a foot and added a new rack below it, so now our clothes take up half the room they used to. Then I put up shelves on the other end of the closet for The Boxes. $250 later, we have enough room to neatly pack in all the shit.

And on the plus, plus side of all this, I got to buy myself a NEW POWER TOOL! Happy birthday to me!!

Now I have two weeks to finish the house projects, take the kids to speech evaluations, dentists, dance class, book club, and doctors. I should schedule a mammogram, but hey. I figure a week to get most of it done, and a week to get ready for school. I can't wait for school to start -- I need the rest!