This weekend was grueling, but we're past it now, so let's breathe a sigh of relief. Before the bitching and moaning commence, I want to first extend a thousand thanks to Mike's brother Jeff and his wife Jeannette for flying up from Maryland to help us paint the whole house in one weekend and to Mike's parents for also helping to paint (Dale) and for helping take care of the girls (Jane). We're so grateful!
And now, on with the pain and suffering... Painting (almost) a whole house in one weekend is no easy feat people. Early mornings and late nights, red raw hands, fume inhalation, Polar Bear white paint blindness, four trips to Home Depot. It wasn't pretty - but I must say that the house already looks a million times better. The fireplace in the living room looks even better than it did against the fresh, white walls. The paneling actually doesn't look half bad painted. The mint green on the stairs is gone daddy gone. Unfortunately, all of this makes the kitchen look awful! We must remember to pace ourselves. Rome wasn't built in a day, as they say.
And in additional house news, the new locks are in and keeping the bad guys out very effectively. Also, the brand new washer and dryer are in place and ready to launder. Mike will probably wash things that aren't even dirty just to have more opportunity to enjoy his new babies. I know, crazy. The water heater/boiler is NOT broken, don't worry. The emergency switch had just accidentally been turned off, but on the bright side, we lucked into finding a heating oil and maintenance company who will call you back quickly on a Sunday when they don't even know you, so they'll be getting our business this winter. Oh, and we found out that we inherited half a tank of heating oil at a value of more than $700, so that's like Christmas in June. Or maybe it's Festivus for the Rest of Us. I do have more grievances to air...
Sick, sick, sick, sick. We're all sick. The poor little girls are coughing their heads off and snotting all over everything and feeling so puny. I didn't even paint a lick over the weekend because I was taking care of sick girls and hacking up a lung myself. I didn't even see the house until late Sunday night, in fact. The lure of having Ana as a playmate encouraged Maggie to push on through the weekend, and I think she did have a blast, but in Jane's photos she looks a little red eyed and bleary. She was pretty spent when she got home Sunday afternoon. I took Kate to the doctor on Saturday, and after waiting for an hour and a half (Kate was wonderfully behaved, very laid back and subdued rather than exactly sick-acting, quite a difference from Maggie's baby days), the verdict is that we all have the same virus and there's not much to do about it. Antibiotics don't help a virus, and the girls and I (because they're too young and I'm still nursing) can't really have any medication besides Tylenol and Motrin anyway. Cough drops are now my fifth food group. I'm very hopeful though that as of today, we seem to be headed towards recovery. Everyone is sleeping and eating better with perhaps a fraction less snot and hacking.
We're packing up and cleaning out the fridge. Mike's got some more finishing up to do on the paint and is trying to mow if the rain will let him. I'll try to get some photos up of the path of destruction that resulted from my having all three girls here at the apartment by myself last Friday. Good times.
Yes, that's right. Sometimes you have to stop and tell yourself: These are good times.