Tuesday night, Quinn and I drove to Jackson to pick up our buyer (my little sister!), and drove back. The last hour, under the cover of darkness. And just 30 minutes outside of Idaho Falls, home, we had a near- death experience. A car of teenagers pulled onto the highway-- without looking-- right in front of our car (the G6) with us going about 70 mph. With some luck, a lot of swerving, and a few tiny naughty words (words that I hope my daughter will never repeat), we made it around them still intact. I slowed the car to 30 mph and just kind of drifted along willing my heart to slow down and my stomach to go back down where it belonged. And then THAT car-- the one that had almost cost us our lives-- swerved out and around us, all the while with the occupants staring at us like we had done something wrong. Right then I went from upset to murderous, and if they hadn't sped up so fast I would've gotten their license plates and called it into the police. But they did, and therefore I didn't. And we were still alive.
Then Wednesday morning came along, the day that we were supposed to pick up a check from the bank (our new loan for OUR new car, the Buick Century). And then I got a call from the bank. "Mrs. Allen, it turns out that since you haven't yet consolidated you and your husband's student loans, your debt to income ratio is too high, and we cannot offer you a loan at this time." Seriously? And why didn't you mention that this might be the outcome, the three times that I talked to you yesterday? Do you understand I am supposed to be in Pleasant Grove, UT in four hours to pick up this car? Yes, of course you are sorry.
Three stressful hours later, we were on the road (money in hand- thanks to a much more lenient lender :)) But now, with the knowledge that I had to get our loans consolidated within the next two weeks. With no more problems for the rest of the day, we picked up our buick and headed home-- arriving at around 11. We got a ..... night's sleep, and I got up the next morning to begin doing our laundry for our three-day stay at my sister's to watch her four children while she and her husband attended girl's camp.
You'll never guess what happened next. Our dryer called it quits. Just at the start of do-or-die laundry day. Always at the perfect time, right? And then I was ready to call it quits. Quinn ran around that day in a tank top and shorts-- appalling, I know. But she was seriously out of clothes and that was the only clean thing in her drawers. Tyson ended up taking a few loads down to the clubhouse to get them dried and we survived. The good news is that we later found out it was just the heating element that went out and a quick fix and $56 later, it's as good as new!
And the next day it was on to Bonnie's to watch the kiddos. OR I guess a more apt description would be to have THEM watch ME, since I was seriously almost over the edge. Luckily, Bonnie's children are some of the most well-behaved, helpful kids I have ever been around. If not for that fact, I'm not sure I would have made it. Emma and Anna entertained and watched over Quinn, Maggie entertained and watched over the three of them, and Cooper just stuck around and helped out whenever he could see that I was just too tired to care. One of the times when we were all lively and having fun, was during play-dough time. I made me and Tyson's dudes and Emma made Quinn (the pink one in the middle-- wearing the diaper). One happy family:
And Sunday-- we crashed. I am not even ashamed to say that we totally skipped church, slept in until 10 and lazily spent our day just enjoying the non-stress of it all.
Now for Miss Quinn-- she is as independent as ever and LOVES order. Tyson and Quinn have a nightly ritual called clean-up time, right before bed. This is sometimes skipped if we are not watching the clock and it's bed time before we know it. On these occasions, when we kneel in Quinn's room for her to say prayer, it's really hard to get her to concentrate, because in between repeating words, she is picking up toys and putting them away in her bins. She just cannot handle going to bed with toys on the floor. So like her dad. And this morning after going out to check the mail, I walked in and just kicked off my flip flops NEAR the door. I came back later and found this:
And she really keeps us laughing with the things she says: yesterday, Tyson was mixing up a chicken, cream cheese, and onion mixture for chicken pockets and started complaining that his arm was hurting. I laughed and told him "You just gotta keep working it! Work it baby!" So Tyson starts stirring faster (and shaking his butt) and says, "Alright, I'm working it baby!" Then Quinn climbs up on her chair next to Tyson, and says, "Daddy, I wanna work it baby!" We both laughed so hard we almost fell over.
That's our girl! Sorry for the extreme length of this post, hopefully it was worth reading through! Love you all!