Sad Sacks

Hi! Remember how last time I posted things were all up in the air? Yeah. It just got a little more crazy.

-Colby's parents sold their house after only 2 weeks on the market. Hooray for them!

-Holy Hannah, we need to move in TWO WEEKS.

-We don't know where we're going to live yet.

-We've got an offer in on a condo, but haven't heard anything back. And even if we DO get it, no way it'll be ours by the time we need to be outta here.

-We found a few month-to-month apartments where we can go till we figure things out.

-Colby is graduating in May. And we don't know where we're going to live, or where he'll get a job.

-We could get this condo & then find out we're moving to Portland. Which would be fine, we would just rent it out, but still, BUMMER! Or we could be here for another four+ years (if Colby finds a job in town & starts his MBA.) But we could not. AHHHHH!

-I am a planner. I like to know what I'm doing, where I'm doing it, and how I'm going to get it done. I KNOW NOTHING. I am going crazy.

-While we were looking for an apartment yesterday, Gretchen threw up in the car. Twice.

-Our cat has run away from home. We checked one shelter today, but will have to wait till tomorrow to check the other one. WHERE IS SHE!?!? We are moving in two weeks? What if we don't find her? OMG! I'm FREAKING OUT!

Phew. I feel a little better.

Angela, or "Auntie Anal" (as Gretchen lovingly refers to her), came with her lovely family & helped with a bunch of Big Projects. Like emptying the food storage room out (remind me never to aquire a full years worth of food storage. If it comes down to living off of 30 year old pinto beans and "Sloppy Joe" mix with "Beef Substitute", I'm pretty much ok with just dying... And I think my children would agree with me.) Auntie Angel is pretty much amazing. So is Uncle Shea.

Gretchen's New Tricks:
Said to me this afternoon: Stop it Mom! Making me CRAZY!
Said to Auntie Krista, who was giggling at her fake-cry: STOP COPYING ME!
(Such a charmer, I know...) Also, she can almost skip, put on her own bandaids (she prefers "Barbie Bandaids" to all others), and get random strangers at the park to put her in swings and then push her. Much to her mom's embarrassment (we have a No-Swings-At-The-Park rule because it's too hard to keep an eye on both the girls when one of them is swinging. But Gretchen doesn't let her mom's rules stop her. This terrifies me on so many levels.)

Please, please, please let me have some answers by next week. At least a cat back. Thank you.