We moved into the Oakwood yesterday. We spent most of the day looking at rental houses, which was ultimately unsuccessful, although we did narrow down the areas we are willing to live. We are all a bit on the fragile side (except Jack, who is deliriously happy to have his own space here, where he can finally sleep in). The other kids and the damn dog haven't slept well, so I've got plenty of company as I burn the midnight oil with all the important worrying I've been doing.
I would post some pictures, but I can't find stuff. Like the camera. We finally have clean clothes, so I'm going to be grateful for that today. I'm also grateful that Olivia will finally eat, because she held true to her vow of not eating another bite of food that hasn't been prepared by me, way back in Wyoming or wherever it was. We stopped for lunch at a Thai restaurant yesterday, and she barfed into a Ziploc, to not only prove her point, but to underline it, and type it in bold.
It is easy to find things to be grateful for, actually. I'm grateful that the Oakwood placed us facing the outside of the building, rather than have our balcony overlook the pool, so our children aren't constantly reminded that they aren't IN the pool. I'm grateful that this kitchen is so poorly stocked with cook/bakeware that I can't possibly be expected to make anything fancy. I'm grateful that, while the GPS took me to Safeway by route of three freeways and 30 minutes of driving, it saw in it's bitch of a heart to scoot me back home in a mere five minutes. I'm grateful for the psychological effects of Pepto on a certain nine year-old boy with vague tummy trouble.
But mostly, I'm grateful that all these mosquito bites aren't bed bug bites.