I am also kinda sick and tired of explaining to visitors that I am not the reason our entry way reeks of weed. With as trigger happy as the Portland cops seem to be, I also worry about things like drug raids gone wrong,(hey, I was a cop, I KNOW what can happen), as well as all kinds of other dodgy characters wandering around at all hours, so when I noticed that the old managers apartment was being totally gutted and redone, I inquired about moving into it.
It is really going to be swanky with new appliances, paint, fixtures and ceramic tile, and to top it off, the bedrooms are a LOT bigger than the ones we currently have. The neighbors are all older, quieter, non-smokers and there are NONE on one whole side of us. Its a little bit more money each month, but it has a front lawn that nobody brings their dog down to crap on, and it also has a screen door.
Its going to be a bit of a pain in the ass to move, but I have already recruited several people to help, so we should be able to get it knocked out in a day, but what really amazes me is the fact that we came here a year ago with 7 bags, that's right Rog, SEVEN meager bags of clothing and miscellaneous electronics, and now? Hell! Now, we have STUFF!
My kids both have beds. I have a bed. We have a couple of old televisions and we have some chairs and a table. We HAVE stuff to move. I am starting to get a few books again and even a few art things. My boy has a guitar and my baby girl has a ukulele and a few cheap musical instruments she piddles around with. We have acquired things, which I do not usually hold in high regard, but I think they mean we are actually making some progress. I have built a bit of a home for my kids. I can feed and clothe my kids, I have successfully kept us somewhat sane and happy through this year and we are returning to the beginning in a few weeks. We have tickets to another 100 Monkeys concert.
I have grown somewhat as a person and a parent I like to think. I am finally allowing my daughter so venture away from me for the first time to attend an overnight church camp. While the prospect terrifies me, I know its something she wants and needs to do as a child in order to grow. She is excited but nervous as well and she is insisting on taking her Jackson with her for security. She has never slept a night without him, and while I am afraid of her losing him or some nefarious other child stealing him away and breaking her heart, I have done all I can to ensure he will return with her, including tattooing her name on his paw, and taping our phone number and such to his fuzzy behind with offers of a reward if he is returned to her if lost and then found. I dont know quite how I am going to deal with her being gone. I haven't been away from her for an extended period of time, ever, so I am liable to be a huge emotional wreck as well, after all...I had a panic attack and followed the bus to school the first time she ever rode it, to make sure she actually made it to school. I wont have that option with this trip, she will be several hours away from me and I will just have to cope.
Son leaves for camp the week after. He has been several times before and hes pretty excited as well. He has been gone more than he has been around this summer, enjoying his last bit of freedom before school starts back and I turn him into an inmate only with less privileges. His grades had better improve this next year or I will have to follow through and start following him to school and meeting with his teachers daily to find out how hes doing, or better yet, volunteering at the school so I can better keep an eye on things.
Moving is going to be a good thing for us. Its a 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom, which means we will have to share a bathroom. I am not thrilled with the prospect of that, but considering that my son seems to be incapable of keeping a bathroom to himself sanitary by any stretch of the imagination, I guess it will mean just one less to clean and maybe I can get him to finally grasp the concept of aiming.
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