So, we're all moved in. Yeah, that was fun. I really want God to just strike me dead if I suggest moving again in the next 5 years. That is, unless Paul gets offered the most rockin' job ever and the company will not only pay for packers and movers but also the therapy that I will no doubt need.
In other news, our church's pastor left to take a job somewhere in Virginia, so we've had quite a lot of transition there. We still haven't figured it all out but I think it's sort of a good thing that we haven't. I mean, heck, if we could figure it all out on our own, what exactly would we need God for, anyway?
I have an 11 month old pre-toddler who is in the raging throes of teething. She was awake quite a bit in the wee hours of the morning, poor dear, crying her little eyes out. The cry sounded a lot like the baby version, "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME???" The morning nap didn't go much better. She's down now thanks to baby tylenol. I'm hoping she sleeps for hours but I'm also sort of a realist.
It's still hard dealing with the loss of our friends Chris and Leah and their kids. The other day Paul started a sentence by saying, "Now that Chris is dead..." and I stopped him before he could continue the thought because I just couldn't absorb it. Odd. It's been almost 2 months, and it's still a rather foreign concept.
I expect that I'll be back to posting on a more regular basis now. Thanks for your patience.