With all the constant rain, our basement is so wet. And it stinks. Even the upstairs stinks. It smelled like someone was cooking brussels sprouts or something. It was awful. We shut the air conditioner off, opened the windows, and lit a candle. It smells tons better but no breeze goes through our house so it’s really hot. Sometimes I really hate this house. We thought about maybe buying a house but I was doing some research, and it sounds like people who’ve had a foreclosure usually can’t get a home loan for 3 years afterward.
It doesn’t look like we are going to find any decent place to rent in this town either that we can afford. Rent is so expensive – I think we got a good deal on the house we have now (now we know why). I don’t think I’ve mentioned this on my blog, but one of John’s friends has been staying with us – he lives in the basement. We’ve figured out that the basement light has to be kept on in order for the sump pump to work. A couple of nights ago, he didn’t know it was raining and shut the light off when he went to bed. He woke up to an inch of standing water down there. The carpets have got to be molding. Yes, we’ve told our landlord about the basement getting wet and she acted surprised. Her solution was to buy us a shop vac. John was telling our neighbor (the nice one) about our basement and he told John that the basement here has always gotten water in it.
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On a brighter note, I haven’t seen any bugs in the past week. John was reading up on roaches and apparently they come in cycles – about every 2 months or something like that. So, that explains why once we think we have the problem taken care of – they come back. John was researching insecticides and found one that is supposed to be really good. He found the mix on ebay for a really good price and then he bought one of those bug sprayer pump things at Sutherlands for $10. He sprayed the inside and outside of our house. John could be like, an independent exterminator now.
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My brother watched my kids for awhile today so John could go to my dr. appointment with me. He got to see how weird this guy is. He talked for 30 minutes straight about how I need to change my way of thinking. He just kept repeating himself and acted like it was so easy to do and yada yada yada. If I just keep thinking positive about everything then everything will be great. If it were so easy, then he wouldn’t have any patients. If it weren’t for needing the lexapro, then I wouldn’t go back. It cost me a $40 copay to see him since he is a specialist. Oh, and the hospital called me today to make sure they have all of Dakota’s info correct before his oral surgery next week. On that day, I will need to pay them $150. That is on top of the $200 I had to pay the oral surgeon in advance. But I should be positive about having to spend all this money, right? Then everything will be great…
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Last Saturday night, the kids and I had a little party (kind of) for John. He had to do the mail route on Friday afternoon for his friend because he was sick. Then he had to do it Saturday morning and afternoon because that was his normal day to do it anyway. And then of course, he had to go back to work Sunday night. He didn’t have any days off work so I wanted to do something special for him. I cooked him enchiladas because that’s his favorite (and when I cook then you know it’s a special occasion). I also bought him some beer. I told the kids that it would be a surprise so they got it in their minds that we were having a surprise party and they thought we should have cake. I saw a chocolate bundt cake at Walmart so I got that. It looked kinda like the one my mom makes so I thought it would be really good. I was wrong. When the kids don’t even eat their piece of cake, then you know something’s wrong. My mom’s cake is 10 times better and I’m not even trying to suck up (though, if you do ever want to make one in the near future mom, that would be fine with me). So anyway, the rest of John’s “party” consisted of us reading. We are some exciting people, let me tell ya. Yes – I even got my husband addicted to reading – the guy who wouldn’t do his homework or read any of the books he was supposed to in school. He’s read more in the past 6 months that he probably has all his life. I’m THAT good.
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