Well, it's been quite the month here at the denice-isms household. We saw a bunch of houses, found one we liked, put in an offer, and totally got rejected. As in, the realtor wrote REJECTED in big block letters on the fax she sent back. So, it's back to the drawing board on that front.
Also, (and probably most important to me) I'm sick with some sort of plague that just doesn't seem to want to go away. I cough and I hack and spend the day just feeling tired and miserable, and it's been more than a week now and I just want it to go away. Gracie doesn't seem to have caught it from me, which is a bit of a miracle, but I must admit that I have had brief, fleeting moments when I wish she HAD caught it from me. Like, when she's running around the house at breakneck speed and begging me to play with her, and I only have enough energy to sit on the couch and vegetate. That way, maybe we could vegetate together, right? (Is it child abuse to hope your child gets a miserable cold from you?)
It doesn't help that this virus arrived at the same time as the cold and snowy weather around here. So we went from spending almost every afternoon outside running around, to being couped up inside, and Gracie's getting a tad grumpy with me. Yesterday, after an entire morning of temper tantrums and fights, I took a whole bunch of cold medicine, lined my pockets with Kleenex and took the kid to the park.
You’d have thought we'd gone to Disneyland, she was so happy.
"Oh, I missed you swings! And I missed you slide! And I missed you rocks! And Brown Horse missed you too!!!"
We need to find a place with a back yard.
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