Happy 30-something-ish Birthday, Jim Mullin! I know it is a number greater than 30 and less than 34. We hope you are having a great one!
The master rearranger and I spent the day moving furniture from room to room and then moving it around within new rooms to make it fit. The big goal was to get the crib from Clare's room into our bedroom, leaving enough room to still fit through the door and let the pregnant lady climb out of bed with relative ease. Our bed was moved to the opposite wall since the new fireplace insert will (hopefully) be installed directly above where it previously rested. Now, I'm sure that the floor is properly reinforced and all that jazz, but to purposefully place one's bed directly under an incredibly heavy, potentially scorching hot piece of iron and firebrick seems to push the envelope a touch too far when dealing with an old (yes, we've seen problems before, haven't we) house.
Clare's room, with all it's new found space, just got the addition of a small bookcase for the books she loves to have downstairs to read at night along with the fifty blankets she loves to drag around and a small portion of her collection of stuffed animals. We will also be bringing down her little table for art as the TV will be moving upstairs (and out of our bedroom) for the cooler fall and frosty winter seasons!
She had some gems today, although my brain is a bit fried, so I'm not sure I'll remember them exactly:
"Do you know why my tongue is always wet? Because I have all this spit in there to help chew up my food."
"Do you think Daddy is sad this morning? He didn't get his hug and kiss before he left."
And this one yesterday:
"My food goes in my mouth and down my esophagus and the throw up comes from my feet."
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