Kicking Butts. Taking Names.

We've been working out butts off trying to get the house ready for renters.  Cleaning everything.  Storing some things.  Trashing some things.  Giving things away.  Posting on Craig's List.  Merciless purging.

We set a move-in date for the bus.

I managed to put the first coat of paint on the bedroom, make a list of the tonnage of things that need to be completed before we can live there as comfortably as we'd like.

We continue to be the busiest family we know:  ballet, horse-back riding, gymnastics, Cub Scouts, theatre, and more.  To our detriment at times, it seems.

In unschooling news, my son, age 8, declared today he is tired of video games and didn't object to a suggestion to go to BAM and grab a book of his choosing. 

Less is truly more, when it comes to limitations. 

Our situation as a family has changed drastically in the past couple of months, but unfortunately, I can't post any of that information publicly.  I've learned my lesson when it comes to keeping things close rather than tossing everything out there for public consumption - but I'll leave you with this... and no, it doesn't have anything to do with my relationship with my truly wonderful husband, but it does encompass my feelings on our situation with our "home" and our lives in the moment, today, now:

Ingrid, you know just how to read my soul.