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When It Pours

I am so behind on posting about all the craziness in our home lately, I’m not sure where to start.

Okay, first: Benjamin had his tonsils and adenoids removed a week-and-a-half ago. He sailed through the procedure and the recovery like a rock star. The doctors and staff at CHOP were beyond compare. I can’t even think up enough positive adjectives to describe the care that Ben received, and the support that Pierre and I were given. Look, tonsils and adenoids are not a big surgery. But, anytime that it is your child no matter what it is, big or small, it’s a huge deal. That was my baby in the OR that day. And even if it was only for an hour, it was a hour that we put his precious life in someone else’s hands. Pierre and I couldn’t have chosen better hands. Afterwards, Ben said that his OR nurses were talking to him about space in alien voices, right up until they sent him off to dream.

So, all last week Ben was home from school eating ice cream, popsicles, Jell-O and pudding to his heart’s content. Nicholas joined right in and thought this was all a great deal. After the craziness that was September, I was beginning to think that life was getting back to some sort of new normal, or at least getting into a new routine.

Well, when it doesn’t rain it pours, right? Or, more aptly, the toilet implodes (sort of). Saturday evening, Pierre and I discovered that the tank of our upstairs bathroom had leaked, into the downstairs powder-room. Great. Thankfully, a large quantity of the water somehow ended up in the waste-basket beside the toilet. Thank goodness for small miracles. The rest overflowed through the floor. We ended up having to gut the powder-room.

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Did I mention that we had renovated the powder-room about four years ago? It was not on our immediate to-do list.

So now, we are slowly repairing the damage. The boys think this is great! Pierre’s tools are out, and there is nothing better than big, loud, dirty tools. I can hear them imitating Tim Allen now (who incidentally, they have never actually seen – except as Buzz Lightyear, of course).

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They are Papa’s little helpers, complete with pencils behind their ears.

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Honestly, could Ben look any more like Pierre? Ridiculous.

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I’ll remind myself that it is just a powder-room. And repeat often.

xo Naomi

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