So we’re moved into our new apartment now. Only moved in, unfortunately. That is, we have lots of work to do on the settling in end of things. You know, it’s amazing how sparce 400 square feet of furniture become in a 1000 square foot apartment—at least that makes the settling in a little easier.

As far as the resident manager thing is going—busy is the first word that comes to mind. I generally spend between an hour and a half and two hours vacuuming halls, scrubbing stairwells, cleaning glass doors; stuff like that. By the time I’m done, I generally am of the mindset that if I never have to look another vacuum cleaner in the eye, I won’t shed a tear.

Aaron is beginning to show signs of wear and tear, now that he’s approaching the 30 mark. Just this past weekend, he did something nasty to his back that left him pretty much incapacitated for Saturday and Sunday. After seeing a chiropractor on Sunday afternoon and living on a steady diet of ibuprofin, he’s starting to recover. Unfortunately, I still have to carry the twelve-ton baby carrier; I’m praying for a rapid recovery.

The baby is growing. He’s just learned how to roll over, so he spends his afternoons on his blankie in the middle of the living room floor, rolling over onto his stomach, dropping his pacifier, then fussing till one of us comes and returns him to his back and puts the plug back in his mouth.

Hankie is enjoying his increased roaming room; he likes to run up and down the hallway while mommy chases him on her hands and knees hollering “I’m gonna getchu!" I can think of better ways to get my exercise.