Some is better. Some is worse.
My aunt is doing better, although she is still in the hospital.
My step-grandmother (my dad's stepmother) passed this afternoon. We haven't been close for a long time, a couple of decades really - maybe fifteen years since I saw her last. But she was my last grandparent, and that feels... odd. I'm sad, more on behalf of my aunt and uncle - her kids and my dad's half-siblings - than for me. And I feel... old, I guess.
The Hubs did in fact lose his job; just wasn't a good fit for him. It's stressy, although as I said, the money sitch isn't as scary now that we're moving soon. Which brings us to...
The house. It will be ready (fingers crossed) my no later than the end of the year. This is a Good Thing (though we'd like it to be earlier), because at least we know. Assuming nobody gets sick again or what-have-you. This also means we'll likely be moving over Christmas.
Which is complicated under the best of circumstances, with divorced and remarried families (although we get along, thank goodness). This year it's even more complicated than usual, because Abby's dad is going out of the country for work, and nobody knows his schedule yet, including him.
On the flip side, the Hubs - who is in fact certified as a K-12 teacher - is getting re-certified (as a teacher, silly, not because he's certifiable). We sent off the paperwork today
This is a very mixed report. And my fingernails are still too long, dammit.
Ooo - I said the D word.
I want to talk to Abby alone because of her dad's work thing up there, and I have an opportunity when I take her to a sleepover tonight. If Lizzy ever stops behaving as though I'm pulling her fingernails out one at a time by not letting her come with us. "But, Mommy, I'll do anything if you're just let me go with you. I literally already put my shoes on even. Mommy, please, I'll do anything."
I suggested she go to Toshi Station to get some power converters and she said, "Okay. I said anything." But when I showed her the clip she was Not Amused, and accused me of mocking her.
Which I am.
Wow. That is a tired kid, I think, because that last bit was very Elmer Fudd. And now she's kicking her bedroom door where Daddy put her in there in trouble for whining and nagging over and over.
And when I get back I have homework to do.
At least I got us insured, and my anxiety meds will come in Tuesday