Could this be a case where the family members who are commenting want to come visit, but are afraid they are not strong enough to make the stairs as many times as their bladders will need the bathroom, or some other health related thing? I don't know. I'm just thinking aloud, but I'm wondering if there's some way for you to just accept this is an issue for them (if it truly is, and isn't just criticism) and move forward.

Absolutely. I understand and share their concern. I just wish a) they'd see the house and try the stairs first before freaking out so hard b) stop talking ALL THE TIME about it. There's nothing, nothing that can be done about it now. Basically, I feel there's a passive-aggressive guilt thing happening at this point- "you were thoughtless not to consider our needs when purchasing your home."

They are valid needs. We considered them. We decided that that was one con outweighed by many pros (somewhere, it's on a list).

I guess since it was our decision, we should just deal with the consequences of it. But, seriously, my parents live in a two story house. With stairs. And it just stings, that it's just brought up over and over and over and over again. But, like I say, since it's a result of our very conscious decision, then we're just trying to smile and deal. But it is upsetting.

I just checked the Utah State Fair's website, and unless they make some change, Billy's not in the lineup. So I won't get to see him in concert after all.

Ah, crap. Sorry to hear that, connie. It is my view that Utah needs Billy now more than ever, but I guess if I was that much in charge of Utah, there'd be a couple other (million) changes too.

That's a darn shame, connie.

So grateful for Ginger to claim the Fogier Crown from me.

Rio, you totally need to watch Pete & Pete. Little Pete is a satisfying anarchist and Big Pete is the cutest red headed teenaged boy ever. Plus fun stories about lovelorn school bus drivers and chain smoking crossing guards and villains named Endless Mike and Pitstain.

Oh, and Nora? Your relatives are bugging the shit out of me with that passive aggessive guilt mongering sighing.

Oh, and Nora? Your relatives are bugging the shit out of me with that passive aggessive guilt mongering sighing.

That makes 3 of us... I have to stop reporting instances to Tom, because his frustration is SO not worth the shared kvetch.

So grateful for Ginger to claim the Fogier Crown from me.

Me too, in the "see- other people are doing it with so much effing style, it can't be too bad" sense. Turning 40 is going to be weird. OTOH, I just scored Avenue Q tickets in Vegas for a couple of days before the day, and then got told I could have the time off.

Ooh, canoeing, fun! Glad the incomplete is done, and your school (UMKC?) is really not impressing me with its competence. That's an impressive string of fucking things up.

Word. But it's not all bad; I got the A, and I now have a 3.7 cum GPA for my 2nd MA.

Unless your relatives are in wheelchairs, they need to stop bitching. That's ridiculous, really. You go up stairs, you relieve yourself -- the end. It's not like to have to walk up 18 flights to pee. We are so damned spoiled.

I'll be staggering out of a tent to piss in the woods at 2 a.m. all weekend, and I won't complain unless a snake bites me in the ass. I think everyone should camp once a year; I always come back very appreciative of stoves and coffeemakers and hot showers and tile.

Very cool, Perkins, that sounds like some excellent celebrating.

My mom can't visit me in my 3rd floor apartment because she can't handle stairs at all. Actually, she can barely get around with a walker at the moment. So I go there. Since I usually end up changing their house's air filters, planting and weeding their gardens, replacing shower heads, etc., my folks have wisely decided to let it go. Especially when I said something along the lines of, "When I get a ground floor house y'all can come over and help me put in my garden! Won't that be fun?" Dad's probably hoping my knees hold out.