Holding Steady

At least, I *think* we are holding steady. Anxiety is still whelming with the fear that we are holding steady on a bee-line course to disaster with one or more of the balls we are juggling, buttttttttaaaaaa. . . Plying therapy tools. This is unexplored territory for all of us. Mistakes are bound to present in one or more spots. Easy does it. One step at a time. Worry turns into self-fulfilling prophecy far more often than it leads to solutions.

Set up work continues on the new house. All that empty space is exciting everyone's senses. Room to play while we grow! ! ! What a concept. Priscilla hasn't been able to make her way up the temporary senses, so she is reduced to sniffing the exotic smells on our clothes after we finish the dangerous descent back down the stairs. A new driveway and parking area have joined the landscape.

Hubs talked to the other grandfather yesterday about visitation over the Christmas holidays. There wasnae a mention of further legal action. With the other housing project lawyers on my own branch of the family tree, the silence has ended the subject between us, but the dangling questions and ominous implications still rule. Can personal relations even jump a lawsuit hurdle? Not so far in my strictly personal experience. Leaving that dangling conversation to its own mysteries. . . His list of excuses willnae allow for Thanksgiving visitation. I worry that he was milking for Hubs to solve that list for him. He milked far enough for Hubs to sound like he had agreed to meet him half-way on the 3 hour drive. A half-way meet-up with chronically late and inefficient people? ? ? Give me PTSD flashbacks, why doncha? ? ? You are on your own for that one, my love. Leaving that body of yaddah blahs to next month. For now I am tentatively grateful that our stabilizing drive here will continue uninterrupted. The "tentatively" is that anxiety speaking its worry that there is no telling which of the balls we are juggling is going to drop on our heads at an unwary moment. Still, the children are enjoying the house set-up process far more than we are. They don't need to know all the gory details behind the stage of the magic show. The elder sibs are excited about having their own rooms for the first time ever in their lives. Hubs and I arenae even close to certain they will be able to handle sleeping alone, but having the option available is a pretty critical first step in testing the potentials.

And there goes the baby alarm. Time for another round. . .