Busy days

A lot of real estate in this blog is devoted to Mal, who is demanding of my attention and who hits milestones on a daily basis.

Then there's Daphne, who can make her own food, and take care of herself so much that I don't always have a lot to "report" about her... And then there's the fact that she doesn't want me posting pictures or talking about her too much. :)

But I really have to brag on her for how she's stepping it up in our move so far.

Daphne is wanting to earn some money, and we basically told her that if she'd go full throttle from start to finish any time we're working at the new place, we'll allot her so much each day up to a maximum. The catch is, if she doesn't get it all, she doesn't get any of it.

Well, she has risen to this occasion, really even more than I expected.

Our new place doesn't have wi-fi, so she can't chat with friends but she hasn't rushed us to get home. She hasn't complained about being tired or asked, "When are we leaving?" and she's powered through the hours we've spent there.

Yesterday, her new computer desk arrived. She was chomping at the bit to put it together, but we had several boxes to deal with and get out of the way, and she broke down boxes and gathered trash and kept asking, "What else do I need to do?"

Then when we got to her desk... Well, she wanted to do it. When I'd take over, she would get restless and say she really wanted to put it together herself. So I ended up nursing Mal and telling Daphne what parts to put on next. She took to it very quickly; much more quickly than I did, as a stinking adult, trying to put together do-it-yourself furniture.

At one point, she was trying to get one of the sliding tray brackets attached to the desk with one of the 8 screws that required an actual screwdriver (as opposed to Allen wrench). The screws were about 3 mm long, and you have to feed them in just right, but it's tough because the bracket is pretty narrow. She'd put it in place, and just as she'd get the screwdriver up (nope, ours aren't magnetized), the screw would fall. After hearing a tell-tale clatter as the screw slid into the tray again, I heard Daphne mutter under her breath, "I'm so f***ing sick of this." I contemplated correcting her, but then realized that was probably one of the more appropriate applications of that particular swear, so I let her have it.

In the end, she pushed onward and was successful.

From hauling stuff up the stairs to packing out copious amounts of garbage and recycling and everything in between, Daphne has really worked her tail off and I'm so proud of her and grateful not to have to do things by myself on the days when we go and James is at work.

Love my girl!

Right now, it's a blank slate!