As promised...

Lucky you! You now get to spend the next 45 minutes (if it takes you any shorter, you either did not spend adequate time oogling or you skipped this post altogether; shame on you) seeing pictures of my apartment here in Ithaca. You are so blessed.

This is directly across the street. As you can see, there is our mailbox, nestled snugly in the midst of some poison ivy.

And the outside... Look! There's Rip.

And the kitchen... notice the knobs on the oven? You sort of have to guess what temperature you're using. I've guessed wrong now pretty much every time.

And this is our enormous bedroom. The picture actually makes it look smaller because we have an armoir and a desk fitting comfortably in there, but it definitely is a lot smaller than the luxury we're accustomed to.

The living room... yes. That's an AC unit in the window. Yes. That is supposed to condition the entire apartment (I say 'entire' as though the apartment is vast and spacious; it is not). Also, notice any lights other than the lamps? No? That's because there aren't any. We are lucky to have three lamps, but it still seems weird that there is no light fixture of any sort.

And just because we're all adorable, a few extras. Man, I wish the bags under my eyes were not the primary focal point. The boys in their Cornell hats and sweatshirts. We are very supportive.

And Chet last night in his skin tight pajamas playing with a balloon. I love skin-tight pajamas on babies and toddlers.

And a recap? There are two other bedrooms and a bathroom but they sort of just look like every other kid bedroom and bathroom you've ever seen. So not much there. But I was thinking how you're not supposed to put real names or locations on blogs and things, because it's dangerous. I agree. However, I'm almost 10,000% positive no one wants to come stalk me and my family. For one, they would have to deal with Rip and the constant battle of finding him the exact train he is currently looking for. That in and of itself is reason enough to stay away. For two, they would have to stare at the bags under my eyes and that is not only terrifying; it's somewhat grotesque. So I'm feeling pretty confident I'm not stalker material. Chet might be though. Wait. Never mind. He would vomit apple sauce, oatmeal, or whatever else he has eaten and he would promptly be returned. Yes. Chet no longer spits up, he vomits. And considering he's mobile, you pretty much step into vomit wherever you go. So yeah. No one is taking this family.