Ever since we arrived in California, the kids have been anticipating our trip to Disneyland. Everyday they ask, "When are we going to Disneyland?" The first two weekends we have done a couple of kid-friendly activities, but at the end of the day they have been quick to remind us that the activities weren't quite up to par to Disneyland fun. Today, the third Saturday of our trip, we had a fun day planned taking a two hour train ride on an old fashioned restored train. I was telling Bradley how we were going to a town called Fillmore to ride a really cool train. He absorbed the information and then said to me with a concerned expression, "Mommy, does the place where we are going look like Disneyland?" I suppose we've let him down too many times the past 2 1/2 weeks that he simply would be happy with a look-alike Disneyland.

Our house will enter the market on Thursday. As I sit back and relax, sipping pink lemonade in the moderate climate of sunny Southern California supervising my children on the Little Tike slide, David is slaving away decluttering, dusting, vacuuming, moving furniture, sealing porches, setting up appointments for repairs, pressure washing, and painting. He told me he's gaining a new respect for the housewife who normally takes care of these concerns. Ok, I'm glad. Now add five screaming kids in background of all the phone calls and a couple of naked toddlers to answer the door when the contractors arrive, and a screaming tired infant prematurely woken from his nap when the roofer nails the replaced shingles on the roof above his bedroom.

My husband accepted a new and less demanding position at his current employer for a lower salary. We are going to sell our home and move to a less expensive, but growing area of the city. We are looking forward to the change.

How is that for looking on the bright side of our situation where the poophead attorneys that David works for decided to eliminate his position because the "internet is useless" and cut his salary by 30% effective 30 days and place him in "a different position" where he will probably end up doing the same stuff as he did before?

Anyhow, it is forcing us to follow through with our already scheduled plan of downgrading to a new kid-friendly home where our kids can beat up the veneer cupboards, puke on the base grade carpet, and nick and scuff the baseboards while we work towards wealth (passive income = living expenses.) Thanks attorneys! We appreciate the opportunity.

Happy 8 months, Jason!

Finally we are starting to feel better. And no, I did not write these posts while I was sick. Are you kidding me? I am retro writing.

Puke, puke, and more puke. We are all sick.

Bradley is sick.

We made it safe and sound to California, puking baby and all. We stayed the night in a low budget hotel in Charlotte so we didn't have to leave at 2:30 in the morning. After a restless night in a king sized bed with a 23 month old toddler and 7 month old infant (the rest of the kids were in a room with my mom) we awoke at 5:30am and quickly got ready for our early arrival at the aiport for our 8:05am departure. Jason awoke a little stuffed up and I saw him gagging on the bed. I assumed it to be a gag reflex of post nasal drip. But as our family van pulled up curbside at the airport my mom witnessed a small puking espisode and we again attributed it to post nasal thick snot. We survived the trecherous security checkpoint with five children, shoes off, strollers folded, infant formula inspected, 5 kid backbacks, 2 adult backpacks and an infant carrier. We passed and proceeded to our gate with a pitstop for muffins, english muffin and egg sandwiches and juice. We were surprised to learn that Delta does not board small children first so we patiently waited for our zone to be called. As we walked down the jetway, Jason's sweet little baby face turned bright red and he began heaving. I knew it wasn't post nasal drip. The entire flight I remained concerned for his comfort. He soaked an entire bib with puke. By the end of the flight he seemed to feel better and was drinking his formula. We arrived at our layover and hiked to our new gate and I sat down to two unfriendly people. When everyone finished their bathroom duties, I suggested Burger King for lunch. At the conclusion of our meal, Jason sickly projected his entire bottle of formula onto the attractive brown tile floor. I reached for my backpack to get a wipe and noticed my backpack was nowhere to be seen. I panicked. I rushed to the gate with the unfriendly people to find out that the unfriendly lady had turned it in to the authorities "because that is what you are supposed to do when you see unattended baggage." I must have looked pretty threating. Finally after tracking down the correct authority, Matt, from aiport police kindly brought it to me at Burger King. We survived the second flight, Jason recovered from his illness, and we are now in Calfornia to enjoy a nice relaxing trip in Sunny California.