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Ryley is home from school today, with a cough. He has been busy jiggling my arm fat, trying to get me to let him watch the Spongebob Squarepants movie.

Two things are wrong with his approach: reminding me of my spectacularly flabby arms while trying to butter me up is not wise. Clearly, the butter has already done its damage. Secondly, I don’t like being too sweet when they are home from school, lest they think staying home from Kindergarten is more attractive than learning simple addition. I am motherly, concerned, and like to nurse them back to health but I don’t like making the experience too much like a resort vacation.

Hubby will come home around lunchtime to relieve me from further jiggling (both the physical and emotional kind) so that I can go out with our realtor to find a new house. It isn’t as exciting and promising as it used to be. I compare every house we look at to the House Of Mold, which I loved despite the teeming spores eating through the basement subfloor. Just when I think that we over-reacted, I remember that their realtor told our realtor they have already done $6,000 worth of restoration since last Friday. That could have been us, had we not hired an amazing, thorough inspector. A wood floor in a basement is unheard of in Colorado. The fact they have a wood basement floor shows that there is a persistent moisture problem like a high water table under the house. All the restoration in the world won’t take care of that problem.

Finally, the twins are doing very well. Both are breathing room air. Baby B still has a hole in his heart that they expect to close with the help of medication. The goal right now is to get them strong enough to co-crib in the NICU. I am sure they miss each other.

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