Yeah. Like I said. Greg and I closed on our house on Friday, a procedure which had been described to us as thirty minutes of paperwork. We were pretty confident in that number, having already been through the ‘thirty minutes of paperwork’ two times. (Yeah. If you’ve never had a mortgage, be aware that getting one makes you personally responsible for the deforestation of an acre of rainforest.) Unfortunately, this time it turned into four and a half hours of fighting with the lender over more closing costs they said we wouldn’t have to pay. And we didn’t – it just took four and a half hours to bully them into not ripping us off. (I am now firmly of the opinion that mortgage lenders are evil. Bah.)
This cut severely into our last-minute packing time. Greg and I stayed up packing until 11, when we ran out of tape. We stared dumbly at the empty roll for a few minutes, realized that by this time all nearby tape-vending facilities had closed, and went to bed. Max woke up, crying, at about 1:30. Since we had our alarm set for 5:30, we were a little less than thrilled. It took both of us to get him back to sleep, and we crawled back into bed for a few more hours of rest.
We got up (before dawn, ew), and I kept packing while Greg went out for tape and donuts. After two hours of work, we went to get the kids up so we could go get the truck.

During the night, Max had broken off one of his front teeth. I am not even playing.

We were shocked; I cried. I actually thought I was going to throw up. A frantic search of his room and bedding failed to uncover the tooth. Greg thought he must have swallowed it. We stopped at the ER and got the number for the emergency dental clinic – they told us that unless he was in a lot of pain, we should just come in on Monday. THAT’S reassuring. We kind of just went about our business – I mean, we had to move that day. Max was drinking yogurt smoothies through a straw, and crying, but mostly just being himself. Moving into the house was actually fairly smooth. We paid someone to clean our quarters up to inspection standard (worth every freaking penny), had friends help us move, and the house is awesome.
I woke up in the middle of the night last night, scared to death, because I remembered that Max has a small heart defect that requires him to get antibiotics prior to any dental work. I guess that the defect renders him more vulnerable to infection, and bleeding in the mouth is more likely to cause infection than elsewhere on the body. So, by my reasoning, he really needed some antibiotics for this mess.
We went to the ER again on Sunday, since the main clinics aren’t open on the weekend, and apparently the doctors agreed with me, since we got some penicillin for him. (He hates it, by the way. Super.) Then, today, we went to the dental clinic, but they couldn’t help us much since their pediatric dentist is gone. They did evaluate him, and there’s enough tooth left to attach something to, like a cap or a crown, but they told us he’d have to be sedated (because of his age) and we’d have to find a dentist in town to fix it.
So. Um. We have an appointment tomorrow morning, which may or may not be the end of this. And it’s probably going to cost a lot. Which isn’t the main issue, but it’s an issue. Mostly, we just want him to be able to eat without hurting, and protect him from infection, but rebuilding the tooth would be nice, too. Sigh.

Things are beginning to back up here, a smidge. We’re closing on our house either tonight or tomorrow, and then come Saturday we will be moving in! WOOOOO!

On the other hand, I’m two full days behind on my NaNo novel (NaNovel?) and unless I can crank out some words today, it will be three. The package for my sister is sitting on my sofa, along with the slowly progressing knitting project. With all the things that are slowing down, you’d think that I’d be on top of the packing, right? Wroooong! It reminds me a bit of our very first move as a married couple: my dear husband was in Basic Training, I was 6 month pregnant and in college, and I kept packing and packing and packing but would probably have failed to finish in time without the day my family came to visit and packed up half my house for me. Ahhh, those were the days.

We’re not moving very far away, so if worst comes to worst we’ll just pile things that are still out into WOE boxes and hand carry them over, setting them in a corner to sort later. (We’ve found that, on average, it takes us 6 months to a year to unpack every box we move with – at which point it’s usually time to move again. Not this time, though! Yaaaay!) If you’re not familiar with the term ‘WOE,’ I’ll explain: What/Where/Why on Earth? As in, What on earth is that? Where on earth does that go? Why on earth is that out/hasn’t that been thrown away/put away/whatever. Haha. Ha.

At this rate I won’t have time to go to Kid n Ewe. We were suppose to move last week, darnit! Hrm. Mebbe I can sneak off Saturday afternoon. I hear they have sheep and llamas there – Max would love that.

In other news, Charlie rolled over today. Twice! Although, I’m not sure if it counts as a full roll-over if you finish with one arm pinned behind your back.