Money...

What is all of this, you might wonder. Well, this is us in the middle of switching our house around. We now have two kids in one room. The room is upstairs by ours. And for all of you disbelievers, you nay-sayers, you skeptics, this is the part where I prove you wrong. This is where I'm supposed to say, "The room sharing of two horribly sleeping children worked. It literally turned our lives around!" I'm supposed to say it. But I can't. At least we don't have to go up and down the stairs ten times each night. And honestly, it couldn't have gotten any worse than it already was.

And! The kids got a playroom. This is how it turned out.



Not too bad. (Sorry about the lighting in the pictures, but you get the idea.) All I need is about $200 of shelving, and the room will be perfect. Of course I can't justify spending that. Not after this:

If you're not sure what that is, it's our maple tree in our back yard. Or it was. I have no idea how it happened, but it split down the middle and almost fell on our house. I really, really, really liked that tree. It is going to set us back $500 to put it out of its misery. So much for the shelves.

Long, long, nights

Renée has decided to sleep like a newborn. By which I mean, she doesn't. The thing is, she doesn't really seem very tired during the day. But I sure am, let me tell you.

But hey, I have a friend who can knit like this. Do you?

Nine eleven

As people observe their moments of silence today, I can't help but think about how much my life has changed since that morning at Regina when one of my students came into my classroom to tell me what had happened. I remember that it was also a Tuesday, and the counselors were huddled around a little t.v. in their office trying (like everyone else) to figure out what had just happened. I couldn't look at the television without crying for weeks.

It makes me think of all of the other high-stress moments (some quite tragic) that happened during my short career at that school. For some reason a group of girls made everything just that much more dramatic. Likewise, the happy moments bordered on manic.

When I left to teach for a year at a co-ed public school, I sometimes missed the fluffy, cuddly breakdowns. And sometimes I didn't. I felt like I had entered the real world. But then all of that changed when I had Joseph. I can hardly remember that old life. I'm not sure if this is the real world now, or if that other life was.

This day has turned into some kind of a yearly reflection. Where was I six years ago? What was I doing last year when I was thinking about it? Has anything really happened since then? Probably next year on this day Joseph will be in his first couple of weeks of preschool. I may be thinking about working again. Maybe Renée will take naps. Or maybe it will be just the same. Maybe I'll make a morning out of going to the bookstore to let the kids play with the train and then to Old Navy to buy more turn-cuff socks that are on sale for a dollar each wondering where on earth the year has gone.