Ok, so house number 4 and 5...both five bedrooms...are now off the table. Someone beat us to them on Friday so unless their applications are rejected, they are both gone.
We found a house with 6 bedrooms on Sunday, but it was gone by this afternoon.
I mourned for a few hours and then got right back on the hunt!
We have decided that houses number two and three are just not going to be big enough and we are not sure if we can wait for house number one's interior photos, so I've got a new list going.
I won't post photos of them until I know for sure that they are in the running. Right now, I've just sent out inquiries for more information on them.
Thanks so much to everyone who left comments on the houses. I really appreciate your input!
For those of you who volunteered to go see the houses for us, I might just take you up on it as soon as I get some more solid choices.
Time for a Physical Therapy update:
They sicked the big dog on me today!
Boy, this man does not play around!
He's trying to get rid of my wicked (the Rhode Island lingo is rubbing off on me!) limp, so he worked me very hard! He pushed and pulled and challenged and gave me the most painful massage I've ever had!
I'm thankful that he's taken me on as his personal project, because I know he'll get me farther than the kinder, gentler treatment I was enjoying the first week, but I'm not thrilled at all about this new level of pain!
I went to Target today to get a BOSU balance trainer. I use this in therapy and it kicks my tail, so I thought I'd get some practice in so I can be less of a freak in front of everyone. You should check it out...it's great for lots of things, not just crippled people.
The trainers have ganged up against me and have infiltrated my family!!
On Friday they told Brendell that I was not allowed to use my sympathetic crutches anymore and that I was to be using my un-sexy cain only.
So, when we got home, I used my crutches to get into the bathroom and set them against the wall while I brushed my teeth.
She came in and grabbed the crutches and ran off with them. She came back minutes later with my stupid cain.
This is how the conversation between me and my little drill seargent progressed:
Me: "Bren, honey, bring mommy back her crutches. I need them."
Bren: "No. Just use your cain."
Me: "Bren, Pleeeeeese! I really need them to get down this step!"
(my bathroom is elevated from my dressing room by one step...it's actually like a step and a half. This is where my accident happened, so I'm always a bit anxious in this area of the house.)
Bren: "Nope. Just use your cain."
Me: "C'mon Bren, I really, really need them...go get my crutches!!!!!"
Bren (completely unwaivering!!): "Nope."
Me: "OK. If mommy falls and breaks her other ankle, just call the ambulance to come get me."
( I thought this would shake her into reality and she'd see the gravity of the situation)
Bren: "OK. What's the number?"
See what I'm dealing with here!
I did go down that step with my cain, but I was scared to death to do it!
So, now all of the Physical Therapist are just thrilled with Bren. They all think she's cut out to be a physical therapist and I agree. She's been saying she wants to be a doctor (" the girl kind" are her exact words) for a few months already, and now if you ask her what she wants to be when she grows up she says, "A Doctor in Physical Therapy."
They have brainwashed my child!!!
I better start setting aside the money now, huh?