My kids'll be home soon. They went to GA to visit my parents by train for 2 weeks. My dad accompanied them on the trip so they weren't alone. He picked them up and brought them back. Steve went to pick them up from my dad at the train station and they're on the way home. It sounds so complicated but really the first sentence sums it up.
While they were gone we cleaned their rooms. We threw out broken toys, trash and other weird crap they'd been saving. We donated many bags of outsized clothing. We washed walls, vaccuumed and cleaned their upstairs bathroom and hall. The whole upper level is clean. Well, except the ceiling, which has cement-consistency applesauce stuck on it. No one knows how it got up there. It must have been Not Me, a la Family Circle. And I sure as shootin' don't know how to get it off.
I am going to scrub the highchair pad after I post, but today I have cleaned my bathroom, dusted my dining room table, put my carpet shampooer away after it had been out for a week, threw a bunch of trash away from the bar. Holy catalogs, Batman. I need to break out the shredder too. Does anyone know where it is?
My coffee table is cleared off, except my yarn and needles for two projects I am working on. I should put them in the basket that I bought specifically for holding my knitting, which is 3 feet away from me and the coffee table, right now. I am so lazy!
*moves knitting to its basket*
The baby is down for a nap and the dogs' needs are met and I also gave them rawhides to chew on. I have been listening to a movie for background noise as I putter around. Tell me why, whenver I see a birth on TV or in a movie it makes me all sniffy? I am such a sap.
On a completely unrelated note, I have a squeegee to wash my windows with. But I need one like gas stations have, with a strip of sponge as well as the rubber blade because the sad little rubber blade is not cutting it for where my dogs patrol the windows.
I must sound *so* boring. My life is quite ordinary, and I like it that way. We have some pretty set routines which comfort not only my son with Asperger's with their familiarity.
As for the job, Steve has it, supposedly. They gave him an ID badge, a name tag with the job title on it, the previous-occupant-of-the-job's keys, passwords and cell phone. Lord only knows when we are moving. And so today, like the last 35 days, I wait. Not only am I killing time until my kids get home, but I am killing time until we move.
Off to scrub the highchair pad and locate the shredder.