I had resolved to have a good attitude about our disaster recovery process. After all, we have insurance, everything will be fixed eventually, I have a house, yadda yadda.
Well, that good attitude lasted until about Tuesday.
Apparently I am a diva of the first world. And while we're not even close to third world living standards, sheesh. It sure feels like that to pampered me.
The "picnic" approach was fun for a while, but it stinks feeding four children every meal on these dirty floors. At least two of them end up wearing more than half their meal. It's a pain washing the few dishes we're using by hand in the laundry room. It's a schlep having to go to the garage for every single drink request. And I have always enjoyed cooking, but I really MISS it now. I LIKE feeding my kids decent meals with a vegetable in proximity, whether they eat it or not. Tulsa's very limited take out options are getting old already. And yes, we could eat out EVERY meal, but loading up four kids three times a day would make me even CRAZIER.
It stinks not knowing where everything is (although we did rescue the camera. After PVT came home the other day and discovered the bottle opener was packed away behind the barriers, he took about one minute to slash through.)
So we have been living largely upstairs. And while we have a lovely, spacious second story, having four kids, one large mama and one largish dog up there for hours on end does get a little claustrophobic.
I wouldn't have done too well as a pioneer woman, or a resident of the Kenyan slums, now, would I? Sigh. I'm trying not to complain, but I know.
Back to our sunnier, more optimistic programming soon.
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