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Friday, January 20, 2012

On the last night that we'll ever spend in the only house we've ever known as a family of 5, I'm surrounded by big black plastic garbage bags, wardrobe boxes bursting with childrens clothes, and dirty kleenex.

Christopher is walking around on the couch around me, reaching up to the walls and filling in the holes that we've imprinted with thumb tacks over the years.

The house is empty.

We've set aside and pilled up on the ottoman the very few things that we'll take to the TLF with us (temporary living facility- basically a very small apartment for while you're in transit), we pick up the uhaul truck in the morning, we spend the following day cleaning, our inspection is the day after that, Christopher's final out is the day after that, and- if all of that goes well- we say goodbye to Dyess.

You know what sucks? Being sick.
I hate allergies.

Every time the winds pick up, my sinuses go on strike, my limbs take on hot and cold flashes, and my voice deepens an entire octive. I feel, terrible.

So I took a picture of it?

Never in a million years did I think that I'd ever want to take a picture of myself feeling the way that I do today (which is basically like a sugar coated kind of death), but- I did?

I did a photo shoot for a friend and her girls this morning, and when she asked me if she could get me anything (such a nice host), I replied with ..."tissue?". And she did! And then I used all of it. And how fun is that? To interupt a cutesy session of toddlers beating thier mother in the head with soccer balls and sipping on back yard beer bottles, to blow your nose every 5 seconds? Nice.



But so this is me, in all of my exhausted glory. The red rings around my nostrils only get worse with each sneeze. I'm freezing, no matter what I do (I have a cold intolerance anyways, so this is extra awesome). Oh- and I guess you can see my 4 month old dreads, kind of, if you can squint past all of the frizz.



Evelyn is a climber. And Eleanore is a copycat. This made for a special sister/sister moment on the step stool in front of the back window where the play area used to be. You can see the mat pads stacked up there on top of the empty train table, and topped with a GI Joe jeep. Evelyn's grouchy girl play pen to the left.

...is this really our last night in this house?

And then I was going to post a picture that I had taken of all 3 of the babies taking a bath together tonight, but- even though I blurred my focus just so, Christopher gave it the thumb down for internet approval. I can respect that. ...and then he followed it up with a funny "and I don't think I can give Eleanore baths anymore" comment, which he was completely serious about, referring to her "I'M TOUCHING MY VAGINA!!" announcement/tutorial/giggle fest that took place during our 5 year olds nightly overdose of inappropriate things that make Daddy uncomfortable.

Alright. I have to get up early to pour bowls of cereal and make the almond milk to top them off with-

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