Apartment Living

Busy, BUSY couple of weeks.

My father in law came to town for the girls birthday and it was just during that week that we were moving into the apartment.  Had some great times with him, but I wish I could have visited without all this other stuff going on.  The girls now have more talking stuffed animals than we know what to do with!

Unfortunately, those stuffed animals had to be hidden away today because Middie Biddie was barfing all morning.  Happy Father’s Day honey, I’m off to buy a carpet shampooer!  The problem with talking stuffed animals is that you can’t put them through the laundry.  They are always the kids favorites and what they most want when they feel like crap, but if they get barfed on, well that’s it.  The vomit soaks in immediately and there’s just no way to clean them due to the internal electronics.  So I now have a closet full of talking puppies and Mickey Mice in my bedroom.

Apartment living is just frustrating.  There’s a lot of little things that I took for granted living in my own house that I didn’t realize at the time.  Like sound echos in here.  Every sound seems so magnified!  We often had the TV volume at 25 at the house, but now if it’s above 10 I feel like it’s reverberating off the walls.

Taking out the garbage is a hassle because the bin is a full building away.  I don’t feel like I can step that far away from the apartment unless K is home too so I’m feeling like a trapped rat all the time.

And not being able to screw anything into the walls is really messing with me.  All of the furniture is now clumped together so I can latch things to each other to prevent anything from being pulled over since I can’t latch it to the wall.  Command hooks are swell, but they have their limitations!

I didn’t bring my big massive desk and that has come with a whole new set of frustrations.  The main one being my computer mouse.  I don’t use a regular mouse, I use a trackball.  Now that I’m using a smaller desk, the girls can reach it and oh boy do they love the big red marble on Mommy’s desk!  That was an hour of my life searching for that thing I’ll never get back.  I now put it in my pocket or in a drawer any time I’m away from my desk.  Didn’t anticipate that being a frustration at all.

Teeny Tiny keeps pressing against the screen door to the deck.  In my own home, I wouldn’t care, but here I have to because if she rips it, well that’s not ours!

And I’m really sick of listening to my neighbor hork up and spit his insides out.

I’m told we’ll be here until about the end of September.  The end of this adventure doesn’t feel like it’s getting any closer.  Every day we get through seems to delay the end another day.