The sand beneath my feet.

It's actually not so much sand as dust. At this moment, the floor under my feet is quaking and my desk is shaking. Earthquake? No. Demolition of rock and concrete in the middle of my house. Scary. Two weeks ago, after a weekend in Athens, Georgia, we came home to half of our house under a couple inches of water. "Yuck. What a mess," I sighed as I squished across the carpet. That thought lasted only a moment. In the next second my thoughts turned to "Yea! We get new floors!"

The adjuster came, he walked through the house, jabbered on about how much his truck is costing him, and barely managed to look over his big gut to see what kind of damage had been done. Several days later as the carpet continued to get stinkier and our lives became more and more chaotic, I called the adjuster to get his ass in gear. I wanted carpet ripped out, fans and dehumidifiers brought in, and I wanted to know how he could have possibly concluded that this mess was only going to cost $4,000 to clean up. He told Carter that he thought I was quite "excitable." I wanted to call him back and tell him he clearly doesn't know "excitable," but I'd be happy to show him what it actually looks like. Now, thousands and thousands and thousands of dollars of demolition later and days and days of fans and dehumidifiers and people going in and out of my house, the carpet has been ripped up, the sub-floor has been chiseled out, the toilet and bathtub and tile have been pulled out, the baseboards are gone, the cabinetry is in splinters and sitting in black bags, the insulation is out, and there are little square holes in the walls where they've tested for mold. And, today? Today they are ripping out part of the stone and concrete fireplace to test for mold in the subfloor. My nerves are frayed, my patience is frighteningly low, and only the visions of hardwood floors and a newly updated bathroom are keeping me going. (Well, that plus a whole lot of Halloween chocolate.)

Today, I will pick out tile, choose paint for three rooms, sign and deliver the flooring estimate, fax paperwork to the insurance company, volunteer at HF's school, eat lunch with him, move furniture, charm the contractor, drink a lot of tea to make up for my lack of sleep, research tankless water heaters, take the kids to the school fall festival, figure out how to redecorate HF's room in a travel theme for Christmas, empty the kids closets, and feel sorry for myself b/c Carter is out of town this weekend and the end of next week.

It's going to be a hell of a day, week, month. I need *my* mommy, but I have nowhere for her to sleep!


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