I am having waking nightmares of boxes and mountainous piles of clothes and... stuff. This weekend has been an interesting venture of pick stuff up, throw it in a box, move the box, then take stuff out of box. My wife and I have moved four times since getting married. Hopefully, we won't need to move again for a very long time.
The good news, we are less than two miles from my work, so I can begin walking. We're much closer to Bekah's school and Christian's daycare. So we will be able to do our part of protesting gas prices by driving less. There is so much with in walking distance. The video rental store, supermarket, Hastings, Shari's Restaurant, and a dozen fast food joints.
We also unpacked much quicker at this place than I ever have in any move. When we moved into our apartment in Sioux Falls, there were boxes I still hadn't unpacked from when I moved from Meridian to Boise while Bekah and I were dating.
The bad news, Christian and Psuchen left very different house warming presents for us. Christian has discovered how to bite, and has been biting everything he can get his hand on. Mamma's knee, mamma's arm, the baby gate, his crib, the coffee table, the TV stand, the arm chair, everything except for his TOYS! He also spent much of the last three days, whining as if he was hungry. His stomach is smaller than my fist, so I don't know where the food we feed him goes. Two sippy cups of milk, a cup of yogurt and a waffle for breakfast. Still hungry. Two fish sticks, a bowl of green beans and more yogurt for lunch. Still hungry. As soon as he woke from his nap, he instantly began to grunt and whine his "feed me" mantra.
(One of Bekah's best friends came to help us move and brought her son with her. He's only four months older than Christian, and when he wants something, he honks like a Canadian goose. Thankfully, God did not bless my son with that talent.)
What was Psuchen's present, you ask? We bought a kennel for him this weekend, so that he couldn't run free and chew/soil what ever he wanted while the humans of the house were away at school and work. After last nigh, I would be scared to see what our house would have looked like with out it. I opened the front door thinking get the leash, take Psuchen outside so that he can go potty. Too late. The funny smell hit me while walking down the hallway, and by the time I reached the bedroom, (the kennel's location) the pungent odor was almost enough to knock me unconscious. Almost. The dog looked like he bathed in mud and smelled like a mixture of ammonia and methane.
Oh how the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. We were ready to go to bed, but instead spent the next hour and a half cleaning. Scrubbing the paw prints out of the carpet, cleaning out the kennel, and the dog NEEDED a bath.
In entertainment news...
One of the headlines in my Yahoo start page announced Frances Bean's first interview at age 13. As some of you will remember, Frances is the offspring of grunge royalty Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love. I feel bad for the girl, normalcy was never a posibility for her and she is a textbook case of how kids get messed up. After losing her father to a drug induced suicide, she gets stuck with a basket case of a mother. Courtney's drama has been well publicized, multiple court cases both civil and criminal. Former versus Dave Grohl and Chris Novasellic over publishing rights to Nirvana's music. The latter due to arrests from drug and assault charges. When She appears in public, you never know what version of Courtney will show up, incoherent Malibu glamour, or incoherent gutter trash.
But, back to Frances. Only 13 years old, and she looks like a carbon copy of Kurt. That's probably a good thing, considering her mother is not an attractive woman. In the interview, Frances stated her desire to create her own identity, apart from her parents. She doesn't want to be known as Kurt and Courtney's daughter. Can you blame her? Again, I think that is a good thing.
There is hope for the hopeless.
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