Someday soon Baby Sister will have a new house, right?

Yes, Anna.

And a new Mommy and Daddy to go with it, right?

Um, no.

Ha ha! I was just joking!

She’s four years old folks, and she’s here all week. Try the flank steak.

My mother-in-law’s house, where we have now lived nearly five years, or all of both kids’ lives, can best be described as a showroom-quality deathtrap. This house lives and dies by the DIY network and HGTV, and there is always at least one room torn out in mid-remodel. Kid-friendly / kid-safe is something we grade on a curve around here.

The current project is the master bathroom, which is fairly out of the way of daily living and such except when Anna insists on being Grandma’s Helper. The backyard has a goldfish pond that I would describe as Maggie-depth (a unit I hope never to measure). There are power tools, normal tools, and implements of mass destruction pretty much everywhere.

So yeah, the new house will be a comfort on many levels.

We’ll have the luxury of moving in from here gradually, meaning nothing needs to go in before it has a place to go, and we don’t have to do that traditional Move Out Friday Move In Saturday thing. Very nice.

And we’ll have a backyard. And an opportunity to create safety as we go instead of trying to shoehorn family existence into the MIL’s palace.

Maggie is eating Chicken and goop in her highchair. With her hands. Not quite to utensil age, and she’s washable.

Anna has destroyed the aforementioned spaghettios and is now watching Sagwa sitting in Maggie’s little hippo cart thing. She likes to be the baby sometimes, as that’s where the attention’s at.

Now Maggie is at floor level and the dog (Idgit) has taken over the highchair in search of a random leftover.

I wonder which one I should hose off first.

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