Doing well

We went to a 4th of July ward/neighborhood breakfast this morning- great fun. We will definitely miss our ward.

I bounced back quickly on my bad day the other day. In fact, by the time Dave read my post from work a few hours later and called concerned, I answered the phone very happily and began chattering away to him about who-knows-what and there was a silence on his end.

"Uh, but are you okay?" he asked, confused. In fact, when the guys came over to clean our carpets (who we know from the ward) we chatted for a few hours and it was great fun to see them and my social needs were happily met for the day and I felt much better.

"I'm great!" I chirped cheerfully, and reported to him of the day's happenings and the vast cleanliness of the white carpets.

"I was calling because I was worried about you," Dave said, still unable to quite grasp my rapid upswing.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fiiiine," I said, waving my hand at the phone and moving on quickly in favor of talking his ear off about a dozen other more interesting topics.

So I am doing well and we moved almost all our stuff out of the house and even though there's a ton of cleaning and other stuff to do that is still stressing me out, I am feeling good. Dave is concerned about all the stuff around the house and yard he has to get done too and whether or not it will happen before his parents get home, and he comforted me that when they drive into town he will be delivering several caveats as to what they will find when they reach their home. These include things that he will do but just has not had time for yet. Such as door-painting, curtain-fixing, sink-tinkering, and shrub-clipping.

I have several caveats of my own, in regard to any dusting/scrubbing/plant care/window-hygiene I may have performed in a less-than-satisfactory manner, which will include, "I am pregnant!", "Please don't hate me!" and "Wah!"