So apparently it's a bit worse than I thought. Or maybe I didn't realize the process of drying out a minor flood. The ENTIRE basement has been gutted, down to the concrete. The dry wall has been cut away, and I have no idea when I'll get back a third of my house. Our live-in nanny has been displaced to her sister's for the time being.
In the meantime, the garage is crammed with everything from the basement. The living room is a chaotic mess with toys EVERYWHERE! I can't turn around without stepping on *#$@ piece of lego or stubbing my toe on a die cast metal car. Between the kids, their arguing over who made the mess and who should clean it up, the fighting over one tv (and me giving in and letting them watch Netflix on the computer or tablet), I am ready to lose my mind quite soon.
We're just waiting for the insurance company to evaluate the estimates for the renovations, and I'm watching more toys migrate to the upstairs bedrooms, and the lack of storage space is driving me bonkers.
I'd like to start potty training Quinn, but I have no idea where the potty is (somewhere in the garage) nor where I would put in amongst the clutter.
I've warned my spouse if we don't hear back from the insurance company soon, I'm going to start harassing them with daily, threatening phone calls. Just kidding. No, not really.
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