Last night I wrote a long and involved blog entry about the fact that I feel like I can never get caught up, but then my computer restarted itself, lost the entry, and almost got murdered. So tonight as I sit and try to rewrite last night's thoughts, I realize - I can't remember exactly what I said and I'm not quite feeling it any more. So tonight, you get the cliff notes version.
I look around at some of you and you look so together. You are good at your jobs, you are great parents, you sew, you dabble in photography, you are great cooks, you find time to exercise and dress cute, you read, you are active and involved at your church, you never miss a ballgame or practice, you are caught up on all the latest tv shows, you paint your fingernails, your house is clean, you coupon, your ironing is done, you don't have suitcases from last week's vacation still sitting in your dining room, your flowerbeds have no weeds, you shower, you study your Bible, you're tan, you spend quality time with your children, you have s*x with your spouse whenever you feel like it, you're on facebook, and you are best friends with your sister who you talk to every day. Congratulations, I hate you. Well, technically I don't hate you, I am just jealous of you but that sort of feels like hate sometimes.
So I look out at so many of you that embody a lot of these characteristics, and I start to wonder - "I feel busy all the time, but none of that stuff ever seems to get done. What am I doing with my life for pete's sake?! Why can't I exercise or get the suitcases out of the dining room?". And honestly, I don't know. It just seems like I can't because of some glitch in the space-time continuom maybe. I think it would be awesome to experience life for just one day with nothing looming over my head waiting to be done. With no cheeto smeared on my couch and mail piled at the back door and fecal matter waiting to be dealt with. But that day does not exist. Instead I am wondering how I am going to finish couponing in time to shop while Super-G is at piano so I can get home and get Destruct-o-girl down for a nap in time to start the dinner that will be ruined when I realize part of it has fallen victim to the current ant invasion. And what makes is worse is that I know ya'll are all doing it too. All of you. So why then do I feel like many you are doing it better than me? Do you ever feel that way? Surely it's not just me? I need reassurance, and advice, and a few more hours in a day, and a life coach, and a Reece's peanut butter cup as big around as a vinyl record to feel better about this.
Why do all of our clothes seem dirty at once? Why do I get the electic bill on the pink paper because I forgot to go by and pay it this month? Why do I hate showering? Why do I get so consumed with guilt over things not done that I won't go enjoy the pool in my own back yard with my kids? Why did 7-up change its taste a few years ago and become awful to me? Why am I the only person on the planet who can't make my hair do the cute, loose curls with the straightener? Why will my children only pick up after I scream and get out the spanking spatula? Why do I like to blog so much that I stay up until all hours of the night instead of sleeping? Why am I full of mixed emotions about the fact that I'm a stay-at-home-mom who doesn't spend enough time with my kids? Why do I love icing so much? Why won't the ants in my kitchen go away? Why do I miss hanging out with my husband even though we live in the same house? Why do I still have no idea how to work my camera after more than a year? Why are my calves too big for tall boots? Why don't I have any idea what "True Blood" is? Why does fingernail polish take so long to dry? What is the weird yellow coaggulate substance all over the back seat of my truck? Why don't I go to the dentist like I'm supposed to? Why do I feel some sort of uncontrollable need to post all of my worst flaws on the internet for the entire world to see?
If you know the answer to these or any other ridiculous questions, will you please clue me in? I need to know how you're doing it all. And if you are not actually doing it all, it wouldn't hurt to let me know that either please. It makes me feel better about myself to hear of others' failures. And also, could someone please remind me that my children are small and it will not always be like this? Remind me that one day they will grow up and I will find myself wandering, "Why do I have nothing to do anymore? And what am I doing with my life for pete's sake?!".
Thanks a million.
Cassie (a usually proud and happy disaster who seems to be having an introspective week)
If I was a person who used explicatives, I would be screaming them right now. I just spent over an hour typing a long, heartfelt, candid entry, and as I was reading over it one last time before I published it, my computer just shut itself down without warning to configure new Windows updates. I have never even seen it do that before. And so every bit of it was lost. Every.bit.of.it. Gahhh. I am seriously so mad right now that if I wasn't full well aware of the financial consequences later, I would totally throw this stupid computer on the floor and stomp on it. And yell at it. And let Destruct-o-girl play with it. Stupid computer.
So instead of my good post that I thought might actually be enjoyed and generate some comments from some of you, let me just take this moment to apologize. Many of you have left comments that are sweet and encouraging, or funny or helpful, and some of you have left comments that imply they require a reply. I would love to reply to all of you. I would love to make new friends and catch up with old friends on here, but alas, I am too computer ignorant. I honestly cannot figure out how to post a comment on my own stinkin' blog. So if any of you know how to do it, would you please contact me at 1-800-IGNORAMOUS and let me know? Thanks a million. And if you do not know how to teach me then please just be patient with me and don't leave me for someone else who also has a blog about being a disasterous mess. Please? 'Preciate it.
Just by sheer accident, I found out that tonight at our church building there would be a Relay For Life fundraiser - Dinner With Disney Characters. So we rushed around and got dressed and headed up there. That's where the boys had a great time, and Destruct-o-girl................well. Let's just say that she didn't mind leaving when it was time to go. I remember the time I paid a bunch of extra money to have breakfast with Elmo and Cookie Monster before watching the Elmo Live show with a 2 year-old Super-G and a baby Turnanator. There is a photo of me holding a crying baby and a panicking, screaming, clinging toddler while leaning in the general direction of Elmo. Good times. Also, a lot like all those photos with Santa that I stupidly stood in line forever for. "Um...a big old hairy stranger that dresses weird? Sure, dump me in his lap. I'll handle that just awesomely!" And let's please not even discuss the come apart that occured over the cowboy clown that makes balloon animals. Yowzer. So I keep on trying and one day they will not be terrified. And that will last about a month and a half until they decide there are really just people in those costumes and they are too old for characters anyway. In the meantime, here are some cute photos of my little spawns.
Turned around cheesing before she realized who was standing behind her.
The boys were pumped to get balloons and autographs
Still not sure about the princesses, but at least not screaming or crying at this point!
On a seperate and totally unrelated note, am I the only person whose kitchen is totally infested with tiny ants? Getting into everything and ruining perfectly delicious left-over cake from a bridal shower? It really was good. Icing is on my short list of reasons to get out of bed each morning. Stupid ants. Just wondering.
Wishing I had a piece of cake right now,
I am an awful, horrible, no good, very bad blogger. I've neglected you for almost two weeks. Sorry 'bout that. I've been busy. Getting my tan on. It's ok if you're jealous. (don't be btw, I'm not so much tan as red and blotchity and whitish and a little bit peely) But I really am sorry if you were totally in the mood to read something weird and goofy and strange, and I wasn't around to write accordingly. But I am vowing to do better - starting today. Or next week - whatever. Just don't leave me. I need you to feed my self-esteem when beating all those sister-in-laws at Just Dance just isn't cutting it any more. Even though I am pretty good at shaking my large, jiggly groove thing.
I may or may not have been at an undisclosed location along the Gulf Coast for the past week with all of Aaron's family. We may or may not have all been living together harmoniously in one house. (harmoniously may be a stretch considering there are 8 children ages 9 and under in one house but you get it) And my sister-in-law and I may or may not have buried a body in the sand. Ok. It wasn't really a body, just poop, but it felt as scandalous as burying a body.
I have found a new way to control and discipline Destruct-o-girl. Sand. I'm going to put a sand box in the corner of the kitchen and every time she acts bad I am going to make her stand in it. She hates it. It's messy and sticks to her and she cries every time I make her walk in it. So that's my new plan of disciplinary action. "Do you want to sit in the sandbox? Then you better put down that butcher knife and those crystal goblets and get down off my dining room table right this minute little lady!" Knowing that, it makes sense that we blew up a baby pool, filled it with ocean water, and sat it under an umbrella for her to play in. (well that, and the fact that I also didn't want her to burn to a crisp or drown in the Gulf of Mexico) I thought it was a great plan. Until the poop. She had on one of those suits with the liner in it, made to contain things like poop, but she's just so stinkin' skinny that it doesn't hug around the legs. So she was sitting in the pool and and her cousin was about to hop in with her and we realize................ewwww. Now what? I'm sure there is protocol for this type of thing but we didn't know it. So we did the only thing we could do. Bury it. Just trust me when I tell you there were a lot of extenuating circumstances that you don't want to know about, and I realize that I would be the first to be upset if I was working on a sand castle and dug up a small pile of human excrement. But we did what had to be done. And felt so illegal and awful and nervous that the authorities were coming for us at any moment. So just a warning - somewhere off 30-A there may or may not be a buried treasure.
Ok, so he's not James Darren and he can't actually surf, but I do like him. A lot. He is not happy about the fact that I am putting this picture up, but I convinced him that I have to. Otherwise I would not be able to say the Moondoggie thing. Now if any of you can tell me where that comes from, I will give you the most humongeous prize in the world - all my respect for your excellent choice in movies. I might possibly be your BFF and ever and ever if you know who Moondoggie is and his girlfriend's name. Good luck people. I know it's a prize you are all dying for.
This photo has nothing to do with anything. It's just my boys teaching their sister to make really becoming faces. Sorry, they are just so stinkin' cute that I couldn't resist. P.S. Don't judge me for the unmade bed. It was vacation people.
Love you as much as going on a great vacation and then coming home to my own bed,
At first I thought that I would start this blog and seven or eight people would read it. Turns out there are a few more than that (My biggest day so far has been 404. Talk about an egomaniacal episode. Aaron was sick of me that night) And while I'm sure I have met four hundred people in my life, I'm pretty sure they are not all reading this blog, which means that there are many of you reading who have not actually had the um..... pleasure of meeting me in person. So I decided that tonight I would give you all a look into the real me. A glimpse of what lies beneath (beneath the jarred cheese dip and double stuffed oreos that is) to my true self, my inner psyche. Be scared. Be very afraid.
I'm really not telling you anything that deep at all. But I came home wanting to get on here and feel sorry for myself because my husband got roped into working 14 hours today with no lunch break and had to miss the boys' last baseball game, at which Destruct-o-girl acted awful and caused me to almost cry in front of Jesus and everybody. But then, after careful consideration, I decided that I might feel better if I just get over it. I know a lot of people with a lot worse than that going on right now, and tonight I feel emotionally equipped to just get over it. Plus I can only go on about that kind of stuff for so long on here before ya'll are sick of it. So there. Done with it. Consider this to be "it". And I am over here. Over it. So now, back to the earth shattering details of what make me, welp, me.
1. I love double stuffed oreos. (I also look like a double stuffed oreo, but that is another topic for another day), but I only really enjoy eating them after I have removed a chocolate wafer off of one side from two cookies. Then I squish the two creamy ones together and eat a quadrouple stuffed oreo. Judge me. I don't care.
2. In most ways I am so happy with my life. Pretty much mostly perfect husband, healthy children, full life, Christian family and home, and a smattering of lovely followers on my blog :-) But sometimes I just feel like I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing. Does that make any sense to anyone besides me? I don't mean like I don't know how to cook or drive or whatever. I mean that one day my children are all going to be in school and then eventually grow up and leave me (I die every time I think of it), and I feel like I don't know what I'm supposed to do then. I have no real career laid out in terms of my education (I didn't go to medical school like my daddy begged me to) and I have no goals or plans or paths set in front of me. I really feel jealous sometimes of the people who know what it is they are after, even if they don't have it yet. So what I guess I am trying to say is, I am a girl with no plan for "me" and I would like to have one some day.
3. One time, when I was a child, we had a skunk in our oven. We did not put it in there.
4. I am not an animal lover. I think it's awesome if you are, but I am not. There are already too many things around here that need to be fed, watered, cleaned up after, and babysat. I am worn out enough with that and I gave birth to most of those things. Plus I have a few random, weird, sporadic germ issues and touching something that sheds and just licked it's own anus is one of them.
5. WARNING - this one is gross. I am a picker. I won't do it on just anyone, but if we are related or are close friends, I would like nothing more than to dig out your splinter or pop your zit or cut out your ingrown tonail. Sorry. Told you it was gross.
6. I have only been to Disney World for one day. It was MGM Studios at the time, and we did all that we could fit in in those few hours. Deprived I tell ya'.
7. There was a time in my life when I knew very well how to drive a tractor, and I'm pretty sure that with just a few minutes of refresher I could jump right back in there. One perk of being a farmer's daughter. Another is all the cool country music songs that you can adopt as your own theme song. (She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy was what all the boys sang for me in college) (I was skinnier then)
8. I feel like I am a very creative person. This is very different, however, from being artistic. I am devoid of even the smallest of art talent. You need a good idea, you come to me. You need a drawing of a stick figure that actually resembles a stick figure - I am not your girl.
9. I am the oldest (and smartest and best looking and awesomest and coolest) of four children. They are very lucky to have me tell them exactly how to make every single move of their lives.
10. I wish I liked to garden and work in my yard because I actually would like a pretty yard, but alas - I do not. The thought of pulling weeds makes me want to do anything else. Even laundry. My mother-in-law keeps telling me that it comes with age, so here's hoping I get better at it over the next few birthdays.
11. And speaking of laundry, no matter how much I try to avoid it, some of my laundry still smells a little mildewy. I try not to forget it in the washer but I totally do sometimes. Plus, I'm blaming my front loading washer too. Anyone else have that problem? I really think it does get mildewy faster in there than in my old, sad, washer-you-get-when-you-first-get-married one.
12. I know nothing - I repeat - nothing about makeup and hair. I seriously have one look. For eve.ry.thing. People try to help me. To teach me things. It's no use. I will forever be that sad girl who looks the same at the ballpark and at church and on dates and at parties and in Walmart.
13. I think my husband is the cat's meow. (have I mentioned that before? I can't remember.)
And since I am in no way superstitious, I have no trouble ending on number thirteen. The end
Here are a bunch of photos that you may or may not care about, highlighting things going on around here this week.
Ba-ba-ba-booya! Yep. I finally got to do my CVSin', and let me tell ya' - it all about the ECB's baby. So I actually did two transactions, the first of which was good but not exciting. But then the second transaction - *scream*jump*happy dance*call somebody*put it on the blog to show off*yay*. I got a Gillette Fusion Pro Glide razor, 5 bottles of Dawn dish soap, a bottle of Gain, 1 tube of Crest Pro-Health toothpaste, and 2 tubes of Covergirl Naturelux lip gloss for (drumrolldrumrolldrumrolldrumrolldrumrolldrumrolldrumroll)
um yeah......be jealous
I know it's hard to tell what this is, but it's my classroom at VBS. My lesson was on Jesus and Peter walking on the water, so my room was complete with a boat, silhouettes, clouds, rain, thunderstorm noises, wind, and all glow in the dark. It was a pain to put up and take down, but the kids seemed to really love it when they came to class. So - totally worth it! And I was lucky enough to have Ms. Molly, the best VBS helper and actual schedule follower in the world! It was a great week.
This is destruct-o-girl in her car seat as we were leaving the church building yesterday. She was already exhausted by the end of the week and then it took over two hours to get my room cleaned up. So by that point she was a tired, hungry, ill, mad, little woman. As you can see, one side of the pigtails was long gone, the shoe was in the process of being ripped off. Her brand spankin' new just took off the tags that day Mudpie outfit had tootsie pop sucker that she stole from her brother's bag all over it, and she was screaming as if she was posessed by an actual demon. I have no idea why I felt compelled to take a picture of this. I just did. Stellar parenting in action I guess.
This is a picture of me with my children, crashing on our couch watching Disney channel after a long week. I am quite fond of these people. Quite.
Because it has been one of those days.......
Because it is a Wednesday.......................
Because I feel bloatie................................
Because Aaron made me feel awful about the "sporting goods store" joke I made yesterday............
Because my truck has been in the shop all week..............................
Because my pool won't stop leaking massive amounts of water..........................
Because it is Vacation Bible School at church this week....................................
Because my grandmother is scared I am actually on the verge of a nervous breakdown (I am not btw)............
Because I am now addicted to Coke icees.........................................
Because I have on jeggings today and they keep falling down..............................................
Because I grew three children inside of my body and became a total nutjob.................................
Because my children are small and I can't wait until these bad stages pass and then I am wracked with guilt for wishing these years away...............................................
Because when I went to get Destruct-o-girl up from her nap she was standing in the middle of her room, and now the crib, the last place in my home to confine her, is no longer a viable means of escape for me................
Because I thought I looked half cute today and then saw a photo of myself taken at VBS and thought I looked like a sparkly gorilla......................................
Because Aaron works a ton and I occasionally forget how lucky we are and feel sorry for myself................
Because the underwire is broken and/or coming out in all of my good, ridiculously expensive, humongous bras......................
Because we are going to the beach soon and I have nothing to wear..........................................
Because I ate cheese dip out of a jar for lunch.........................................
Because we got new carpet in the kids' rooms last week and all of the boys' stuff is still sitting in the living room....................................................
Because Aaron did the six days worth of dishes tonight to help me out and I resented the help because it only made me feel guilty inside for not having already done it myself...................................
Because I love my daughter so much, but sometimes I find myself dredding her presence because she is so busy and brave and difficult and occasionally awful................................
Because I haven't washed my hair since Saturday...........................................
Because I haven't gotten to coupon at CVS yet this week and now all the really good stuff will already be gone..............................
Because I haven't exercised in over a week.........................................
Because I have a bulging vericose vein that I am too young for and a colossal zit on my chin that I am too old for.....................................................
Because Steve Carrell left The Office and I'm just not sure how I am ever going to love it as much as I did with him.......................................
Because of the Earth's rotation around the Sun..................................
Because even though I know it's not true that everyone but me has it together - and even though most of the time I embrace and am fine with my harriedness - and even though I am aware that tomorrow is a new day - and even though I am usually fine with the fact that my house will never be spotless, the money will always be a worry, the kids are not perfect, and the laundry will never, ever, ever all be done and put away unless my mother is here.......................................
................I sat in my car in the church parking lot tonight having a coke icee and a king-sized Hershey's cookies and cream bar for dinner (great choice after the cheese dip and no exercise huh?) and cried to a dear friend who was sweet enough to listen and encourage and love even though she's got plenty of her own "becauses". And while I was sitting here trying to decide exactly what I wanted to type tonight I realized - we all have our stuff. (duh) And hopefully we are all just lucky enough to have someone listen to us when we need to get it out. So I hope tonight that if this blog does nothing else - it helps reassure you that there is at least one more person out there that feels frazzled, and inept, and tired, and crazy, and bloatie. And tomorrow will be new, and hopefully better, even if your grandmother does call your mother worried that you are on the verge of a total meltdown. (seriously, I'm not. I have candy bars and friends) And even if you did just clean out your son's underwear drawer and realize that even though he is five, he is still wearing underwear that is a size 2T.
Love you like underwear that doesn't ride, chafe, and basically cut you in half,
Where are my children's shoes?! Where? What do they do with them? Seriously? Ahhhhhhh! Please tell me that other people have this problem. That you are supposed to be at the ballpark in no more than six minutes and for some reason your kids cleats have actually dissapated into thin air. That your husband is screaming at your whole family to get in the car because you're late for church, and at least two of your kids don't know where their left shoe is. That your kids own more shoes apiece than most African villages, yet when you are in a killing rush to get out the door then the only thing you can come up with is a pair of plastic spider-man flip-flops. No? It's just my family? I'm the only one who has a disaster of a house where shoes are buried beneath stuffed animals and toys and poptart wrappers and beach towels and dirty laundry (all which were not there last night mind you)? I'm the only one who's children drop their shoes in the kitchen, in the car, outside by the trampoline, in the bathroom, under the bed, at the ballpark and where ever else in the world the spirit moves them? I'm doubting it. I'm just saying.......I need some sort of great suggestion for the shoes besides the whole "have them put them away" advice. It sounds great in theory, but then I spend half my day chasing after them, making sure stuff is put away, saying every five seconds "put those away. where is your sister? put those away. where is your sister?" and that is equally exhausting and awful. (I already have to ask the sister question all the time because she is a curious litte escape artist monstrosity)
Seriously, the other night I made Turnanator go to the Mexican restaurant with one shoe on and one shoe off because I was so mad that he couldn't find it. I'm a crazy lady. It's easy to spot me in a crowd with the swirling eyes, snakes in my head, and loud, one-shoed children. So next time you see one of my boys playing baseball in flip-flops, don't judge us. Just love us anyway and accept the fact that the chaos is what makes us interesting. And awesome. And weird.
Love ya' like not accidentally looking at porn (see below),
P.S. - I looked at the word "cleats" so long that it didn't look like a word anymore. So to check the spelling I decided the quickest thing to do would be to go to the website of a sporting goods store. I immediately think of Dick's and type in dicks.com. Luckily that was right, but for a split second after pressing enter I got really extra scared that I had done something awful. (if you were just offended by that - sorry. if you don't get it - good for you)
It's totally fine, and many of you may do it. But I just have this thing about writing more than one Facebook status per day. I just feel like it is more information than many of you want to know. Especially since my life is quazi lame and it would be the exact same stuff over and over. So today, I decided that I will put down statuses (what is the plural of status? statuses? statusi?) as I think of them, and only the people who actually care enough to come to my blog will read them.
1. If you have to have a plus sized string bikini, then you probably shouldn't be wearing a string bikini. Unless it's in the privacy of your own back yard. And there is a fence. And no chance of neighbors stopping by. And no one is visiting. Then maybe it's ok. (just thought of this while perusing the swim suits at Dirt Cheap). Then again - to each her own I guess.
2. At their ballgame last night, Super G hit a single, two homeruns, and a triple and Turnanator hit three solid hits that got him to first but that should have gotten him to second or third. He just gets to first and gets too nervous to run because everyone is yelling. That's just my boy. We are just totally pumped he is playing and not crying before every game anymore!
3. There are currently two teenage boys from church outside mowing and cleaning up my yard. They were going door to door looking for work, and you know I am all about cheap labor! Love those kids!
4. Destruct-o-girl has been in no less than three toilets today. It's 2:07 in the afternoon as I type this.
5. Have any of you ever actually watched Bakugans on tv? Or Pokeman? Or Dragonball Z? Or Beyblades? Or any other Japanese/anime whatever-they-are shows? Seriously. I would rather be hooked up to a Yo Gabba Gabba IV for a week then to have to watch any of those shows for an hour. If you have any idea what I am talking about then I am sorry.
6. I hope this doesn't offend anyone, but if you have 3 stickers on the back of your car to tell me your child is a cheerleader, it's too many. One is ok. We all want to show pride in our kids. (see #2 above) Two is tolerable. But three per child is too many. And I'm not actually limiting this to cheerleading. It's too many if your child plays baseball, swims, goes to college, does ballroom dancing, or is an underwater welder. I'm sorry. Three is overkill.
7. I believe I am giving up on sorting laundry. I hate laundry. I loath laundry. I wish laundry would die. But since it won't and I am not a fan of walking around completely naked (your welcome), I have decided that the easiest thing is to pretend I am a freshman in college again. Skip a step. Just take every dirty thing and shove it in there a pile at a time, in no way taking into consideration that one thing is a sweaty, dirty t-shirt and another is a sweater vest for church and yet another is a swim suit. I mean if I wash it all on cold then it will be ok right? Right? I really hope my mother is not reading this one.
8. Can someone explain to me why I just drove by the park and saw a portly thirty-something man with balding hair and a ponytail sitting all alone in the top of the kids town playground? Ummm......add that to the list of reasons "public" places make me uncomfortable. (besides all those episodes of Criminal Minds) The weird old guy sitting alone in the spaceship tower.
9. At the risk of sounding redundant from last night's FB post. Wow. New carpet has really opened my eyes to what a completely filth ridden place this home is.
10. Dear naptime. Thanks for existing.
1. My son said two hilarious things and I laughed all day about them.
2. My daughter acted in a way that I can only describe as demonic. Twice.
3. I finally broke my husband and his streak of kindness when it comes to remodeling the house. I gave in.
It was not worth the marital strife.
4. My face imploded, then exploded, then oozed.
Second things first - I tried to cut Destruct-o-girl's razor sharp fingernails today, and it was nothing short of a miracle that we both made it out alive. There was so much screaming and writhing and kicking and hitting and screaming and screaming, that I literally took it way, way personal. Way. There was no way she was winning. I ended up pinning her down on my bed and holding her hand out, pinned with my elbow. The whole ridiculous process took a good 20 minutes. Insane. Then she pulled the same stunt when her daddy tried to get her to go to bed tonight. Head spinning. Pea soup. The whole thing. So just out of curiosity, anyone know any good exorcists? Otherwise I don't know what I'm going to do. We don't really have a plan B.
Next, I just need to admit it.......I am a bit of a remodel addict. Just a bit. Our house is nothing special, but we love it. It has a great back yard and enough space for our family (even though I can't stop dreaming of the "bonus/play room addition" swirling in my head), but it was built in the 70's. And when we bought it, it basically looked like 1978 had thrown up in here. There was a lot of wallpaper and some linoleum and quite a bit of wallpaper. And did I mention the miles and miles of wallpaper? Think - giant blue and pink flowers with Eiffel towers embosses in them. Textured vinyl with grapes. Niiiiiice. Anyway, so Aaron and I have become quite the DIY experts in the past 3 years. We have slowly but surely redone almost every space of this house. Tomorrow starts the carpet. A local business is installing it, and they are letting me do it just a room or two at a time for two reasons. 1. I have nowhere to put all the cleared out furniture and stuff all at once and 2. While the rooms are empty I am wanting to scrape and repaint the hideous popcorn ceilings. I just hate them so much and they are so low in this house I feel like I stare at them all the time. Gross. So today, to try and keep Aaron from having to do so much tonight, the boys and I moved all the furniture out of the living room (including a piano) and I began scraping the ceiling. I get it just over half way done before church, so tonight Aaron and I had to finish scraping and then paint and then remove old carpet before they show up tomorrow to install the new. And let me just say that it took longer than planned. And let me just say that my wonderful husband had a small come apart and told me that "he better not come home and find out that I've scraped another ceiling. Ever.". And let me just say that for the sake of my marriage and as a thank-you for all that he does do without complaining - Aaron wins. He can have that one. I have decided that it is not worth the trouble or the mess or the discord, and I hearby declare the living room to be the last ceiling I scrape for a long, long time.
Now on to the oozing face. My man gets up crazy early for work every morning (think - 4:45) and because of the ceiling situation, he didn't get to bed until after midnight. (he loves me) So to hurry him along, I told him I would rip out the old carpet myself. So you know how some people have that one thing that they are righteously allergic to? Mine is mice. Yuck, right? But so true. I can tell if a mouse has touched something years after it's been there. And apparenly mice have been here. Actually I know they have because we caught several right after moving here since the house sat empty for months over the winter. So when I pulled the carpet out of the back of the linen/water heater closet, it took about 13 seconds for me to sense the mice and feel my eyes swell, and my face tighten. The 34 years of dust, mites, and general carpet funk did not help either, and the flood gates of my sinuses were literally blown open. Snot, sneezing, my eyes swelling nearly inside out. Nice thoughts huh? So moral of that story is - I actually showered twice today (record book acomplishment) and old carpet is disgusting.
And lastly, back to the first thing. Today Super G informed me , "I have asthma in both of my ears". Fabulous. I'm not quite sure what you do about that but it sounds complicated. Then later when he and Turnanator were helping me move furniture, I was telling them to be careful. And he looks at his brother and says "you have to be really careful because this stuff is really old. It was made in the 90's". Again - fabulous. Thanks for the chuckles kid.
Love you like someone that does not projectile vomit pea soup,