Saturday, February 23, 2008

Death & Taxes

Say you have twelve billion things going on. Say you think to yourself, "Self I don't know when I started feeling old - but boy do I." Imagine that each night you throw yourself down on the bed and are snoozing 18 seconds later.

That is Troy.

He was not so thrilled to be reminded that Britt has a deadline to meet for financial aid stuff and that he is required to do 2007 taxes in the next few days if she is going to have the information she needs. Taxes are a terrible assignment on the best day. Agreed? Maybe you wonder, "Why don't you do them, Tara?" Assuming you want an answer to that question I would simply tell you that one spouse does the taxes and the other one - does not. Our roles were long ago defined and we're too old and set in our ways to redesign our system. Plus, taxes make me cry.

The kids are all doing well (sorry to the worried Grandmas in the crowd) and at least four times in the last week I thought, Huh, that is funny - I have to tell that story to someone. But as mentioned in the previous paragraph we are feeling old and that information is no longer stored in my head. They were all adorable things. Trust me.

The not cute thing that has been happening involves 2am and Noah. Most nights he wanders into bed with us carrying two dinosaurs, six matchbox cars and his Dinoco car. He claims there is a spider on the wall of his room. It would not be so bad if he came with less toys and if he did not have sleep apnea the likes of a 350 pound adult man. I've spent many nights contemplating just how difficult removing adenoids and tonsils can really be. Surely I could take them out for him and give us all a better night's sleep. He thrashes around trying hard to wake up Lydia, who unfortunately still rules our lives with her lame sleep schedule. I had her trained better and to the point where she was getting up only once before she got sick. But since then it is like she knows that she can play the, "I almost died on you" card and that means I will get her up at the first peep again and again, all night long. She basically owns me right now. Nice for her.

Tess and Jen return on Sunday. To say that we are excited about their return is a major understatement. The next few months will be spent finding them husbands so they will never be able to leave LaDigue or us. They're both very tall, which severely limits the prospects, but if it is the last thing I do I will find a couple of 6'2" eligible Haitian bachelors.

The three week team run is officially half complete. The next bunch arrive on the 26th and 27th. There are a few folks staying for the duration of the three weeks. The first team was a medical team. They departed yesterday. The next phase of the mission team extravaganza begins later this week. If you've been reading long you'll remember that last year Lifeline hosted a convention -- the convention is upon us again. It's the event that calls for the killing of a cow ... And all sorts of other excitement, including singing at 4am. Britt really loved that last year, I am sure she is crushed to be missing the wake-up calls.

Speaking of Britt, one of the comments asked about her. I think she is officially experiencing her first rough patch in college. Chemistry has been difficult for her. That bums her out. She has been more homesick but also has not been feeling well. She has had a lot of dizzy spells and headaches. She went to a neurologist appointment yesterday. We're hoping his ideas will help her. We all miss her a ton. Isaac likes to lay it on thick and often asks her, "How come you're never coming back?" She is coming back. Not until May, but we are already counting the days.

Truly, truly ... when the taxes are done and when things are calmer (or the version of calm that most people call crazy) we will catch up on the photos and stories from weeks past.