Moving is about the worst thing in life you have to do

I think the title to my blog says it all. Moving is for the birds. So why are we in the military you may ask? Who the heck knows. I don't mind when the movers move us. A few days work on either end- not too big of a deal. But this- At least it's giving us a good oppurtunity to go through EVERYTHING, but it takes so long when you do it this way. Movers, "broken pencil, I'll wrap that in some paper and throw it in with this old checkbook that happens to have copies of checks from 1997." But it is going to be nice when it is all done and we can move knowing we are paired down to the essentials.

Jess, your glasses story was only so appropriate. They didn't dialate my eyes because I was driving three small children home, but while I was there the first time and trying to keep Sadie from trying on all the glasses she could reach and attempting to keep Ellyn from ripping the glasses I was trying on off my face I picked out three frames that I liked. The next day Mike and I stopped by with the kids and Mike stayed by the door so we didn't have to get the kids out and I brought the three pairs over and tried them on. As mentioned, he didn't like any of them but there was one pair that he didn't like less than he didn't like the others. I liked them so I handed them over two minutes after the office had closed. When we picked them up I realized that they were dark brown and not black. I asked Mike if he knew they were dark brown and he said yes. Not as dramatic a difference as red and brown but still a bit of a surprise. Mike has grown to like the glasses. He thinks they're cute, but now he keeps asking me things like "So what's the boiling point of water? Explain the Theory of Relativity to me." He thinks he's so funny. He and Jane were drawing pictures of me on the Magna Doodle all during sacrament meeting yesterday. Obviously not in the spiritual mind frame they should have been in.

So another Georgia bug story. Last night Jane yells for me because there is a cockroach the size of a horse climbing up the wall. I chase the bugger all over the living room, not at my normal cockroach killing speed because Ellyn is trying to keep hold of my legs, screaming for me to pick her up (not in words of course). It finally ducks into the corner of my couch (cushions have been tossed everywhere) and there it stayed-hidden. I stuck my vaccuum nozel as far in as I could get it. Highly doubtful that I was actually sucking up the cockroach, but also having just become aware of the crumbs I needed to vaccuum out of my couch, but with questionable results. I'm just waiting for it to come running across my lap while I'm folding laundry today.

Geof., at some point it is nice when your child uses words instead of screaming until you can go through the entire house trying to figure out what she wants. Also, if everywhere you go she is hanging on your legs instead of walking happily along side you, that is the time you try to catch your child up. I'm all for the "not eating their own feces" as well.

Leash, your stories are so funny. I love them and I hope they never stop. I hope Chloe just keeps doing exciting and crazy things every day to keep us entertained on the blog. Don't you?

Lyd, you may hate me for saying this because he's a boy. But you and Brinders look so much alike. You two look more like brother and sister than any of the rest of us. I think you are both darling.

Okay, I've forgotten if there was anything else I was going to write. I have to go. I love you all. Brooke