Happy news #1: Charlie was weighed today when he got his last RSV shot. He weighs 10 pounds, 2.5 ounces! Whoa! Chunka-monkey!
Happy news #2: We're getting money back on our taxes! Usually we try to break even, but since I'm not working currently it's nice to get some back.
Happy news #3: We finished going through (almost) every box in the storage unit. People, we have a single-stall "garage" storage unit filled with boxes and... stuff. And after about 5 hours split between 2 days, I am pleased to announce we have 4 empty plastic bins and 1 empty moving box; 5 boxes have come home to be restored to their rightful places (baby clothes, scrapbooking stuff, bedding for the nursery); and 4 overflowing boxes, plus 5-6 pieces of miscellaneous furniture, are being donated.
Still have a way to go - we didn't even touch my 6-8 boxes of "stuff" for and from school. I'll tackle that this summer. But I am darn proud of what we've done, especially since I had to take 2 "big girl pills" and get rid of some things I should, but was holding onto the memories. A broken wooden ship? 5 formal dresses from high school? I cried both times when I made the decision, but I feel good now. It's strange, when the storage unit is all cluttered, I feel like there's a corner of my soul all messy and crazy too.
Doug had to take a big boy pill himself, finally agreeing to donate a couple blankets from his childhood. But there's this crazy little invention called a camera. And amazingly, a person can take pictures of items they will miss, so they can still have the picture, if not the actual item. And so that's what we did, until the battery actually died.
Roman is home with us today and is doing... okay. We attempted a playdate at church but within the first hour he pitched 2 crying tantrums, so I decided to call it a day after the first hour (they play for 2). Mostly he was upset because he didn't want to play with the kids, he wanted to play with ME... and then when he wanted to play with the kids, they didn't want to play what HE wanted to play. He did actually cry when they wanted to play "bouncy ball" instead of basketball. I asked what happened at preschool when that happened, and he said it never does - "They always want to play what I want to play." Great.