The other day, after my scouting meeting, I went to pick up the kiddos from Grandma's (their grandma, my mom-in-law). As I came in the door, Bruce RAN right over to me and hugged my legs.
It's nice to be missed. Zoë scurried over, too. But not with the obvious can't-be-missed joy that Bruce exudes.

My in-laws are pretty muched moved out. Mom C will be staying the night with us tonight (since Dad C is still at work, nearly half a state away)(and since we're West Coast-ers, these states are rather big, as opposed to the Eastern states). And it sounds like Mom and Dad C will also be staying Friday night. Can't blame them, since they have a good day of driving Saturday.

I'm in the midst of the crampy and hormonal part of my month. Ugh. And I'm not sleeping all that well (it didn't help that Bruce woke up screaming at 2 this morning. He wouldn't fall back asleep until I nursed him -- and I couldn't fall back asleep until he was back in his crib-- and gave him a sippy cup of water). With Michael's truck jam-packed full of furniture and recycling, he wasn't able to take it to the carpooling spot, so I got to drive him ... and pick up the ladder from my in-laws' old place.

It's so strange referring to their house as their "old place." Especially since they haven't yet bought a new place. They'll be in the next state for a month for Dad's training, then down where he's been working until his training is completely finished. Mom C's SO hoping that, once he's done with all this training, they can be transferred back around the area. She's really upset about this move.
Not that I can blame her. I'm sad that they're moving. I've really liked having grandparents close for Bruce and Zoë (and NOT just because we usually have someone very trustworthy who can watch the munchkin brigade ... although that is a definate plus). (Truth be told, I'd be thrilled if my family moved closer. I loved having the opportunity growing up to get to know my grandparents well. I'd love to give Bruce and Zoë that same opportunity.)

Tonight, we're having the missionaries over for dinner.
I hear they're good with gravy.
(Sorry, I use that joke just about EVERY time we volunteer to feed those poor elders. And it doesn't get old. Or, truly, not old enough to stop.

We'll be cooking up some enchiladas or something like that. If I weren't so tired, so moody, so buried in children, and so feeling like my uterus hates me ... well, then I might get off my duff and cook some Southern cusine. Because bacon fat and grits and more butter than you can shake a stick at are sounding like some mighty fine eatin'.

And I say "y'all" just about ALL the time. When my mom calls me on it, since I'm a native Oregonian and pretty much Yankee through and through, I just remind her that my Nana's born in Kentucky ... even if she was raised in California and Oregon. And I also chalk it up to overhearing Mom C talk to her family, since they're from the South.

Well, that's most of what I can THINK of to blog. Yeah.

I need a nap. And some high-quality dark chocolate. And maybe a heat pack. Yeah.

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My mood right now is:

In which I talk about how I got bit, freaked out, and won't be a Paris-Hilton-esque heiress - 2007-02-16
Happy Heart Day! - 2007-02-14
... Burn the land and boil the sea ... - 2007-02-13
This is where you insert a clever title.

'Cause I'm just not coming up with one.

I tried. - 2007-02-08
Floundering here. - 2007-02-05

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