pummeled

In the last 24 hours we've been hit by thunderstorm after thunderstorm. Ordinarily this wouldn't be a big deal. But remember the basement problem? It's still not fixed, so excessive rain means an excessively wet basement. The guys have been out to look at it and we've had them scheduled for a couple of weeks now to come fix it the week after we get back from vacation, but until then, we still have a wet basement.

Last weekend we cleaned out the basement in preparation, so that means almost everything is up off of the floor and either on shelves or in the crawl space, but there's still the washer and dryer to worry about. My husband is so worried that it'll start getting over in that area and do some damage there.

So last night I didn't sleep much, listening to all of these storms. Our daughter slept well, thankfully (and unbelieveably!). She did wake up once, but it wasn't during a storm, strangely enough. I think she had a nightmare because she was squealing in her sleep prior to waking up and crying for Mommy. I just opened the door and talked to her briefly, which calmed her down and she went back to sleep on her own and without any more crying, so that's a good sign that maybe we're through this sleeping issue.

Here are some pictures I forgot to post. A few weeks ago my husband was cleaning out the garage, which involved building a movable cart to hold much of his wood and woodworking supplies. R wanted to "help" in the worst way, and yet was terrified of every sound the tools made. If I had to help him hold something while he was drilling, she started screaming in fear of the sounds. If I was holding her when the drill came on, it was okay. So here was one of my solutions to her being in the way of Daddy's work----her outdoor "playpen" to keep her out of the way. She actually loves playing in there and usually asks if we'll put her in there. She finds acorn tops that fall from the tree into the bed of the truck, puts them on the ledge of the truck and says, "Mommy, count?" And we count them together (which sounds like "one, two, fwee, fowr, five, seven, five, seven, five, seven....). Anyway, she has a love-hate relationship with loud noises--here's her reaction to the drill coming on.

And here she is enjoying the final product. I don't think that's what Daddy had in mind for what to store on the cart, but she was happy.