Do you hear what I hear?

For two whole days now, our lives have been turned not completely upside-down but almost. The house is really starting to look beautiful with ALL new windows ( at only the most minimal expenses; the children's naps, therefore attitudes, and my sanity). There has been CONSTANT banging and sawing with little regard for my desire to maintain somewhat of a schedule. Thank goodness we're flexible. Okay, not really, given that it has completely destroyed my normally jovial, happy-go-lucky disposition. What? I can be that way!

Steve was very excited when quoted a significant amount less for the windows if he did the work himself. I really tried to be supportive of him doing it but just kept wondering how long it would take a man that had never done that before to redo an ENTIRE house. I couldn't shake the instict that I could be losing my husband for upwards of a month's worth of weekends! Thank God for delegation. Steve is really happy about it too, given that it has taken two professionals more than two days. What could one amateur do in two days? Caulk. ( I hate that word by the way. Or rather, it's pronunciation.)

We have had an eventful last few days since I last blogged. Embarrassing playdates, ill-effects from going from a completely raw diet for seven days to having one night of something cooked, tours of the Japanese gardens in Moses Lake accompanied by an interesting and shoeless girl of about 12. The girl at the Gardens, named Jessica, told us that we could call her "Jesse" if we couldn't remember her name. Or, if we'd llike we could call her "Messy" since that was her nickname. She mostly walked upright, but occasionally on our walk would squat down and start RUNNING on all fours. She had mastered it. It looked as natural as that can look on a homosapien. I commented that she didn't have any shoes one. She proudly replied, " I never wear shoes. I'm half Indian." "Messy" is half Indian. Ahhh.....I see. Now it all makes sense.

Paxton is getting ready for "Culture Night" at the school. The Preschoolers are dressing as cowboys. Not sure where we're going with that. What culture is that supposed to represent exactly? I'll have to see what everyone else is wearing. I sure hope goth gear, halter tops, and gangsta pants didn't make the list. Oh, what kind of toilet has this country gone and flushed itself down....Ahh.

The roofers will be here tomorrow as well. Do you hear that? That's the sound of delegation. Either that, or that's just me, back in the bedroom, banging my head against the wall keeping perfect rhythm with the banging that is going all ALL OVER the outside of our house.