Since Mike was laid off for those 8 weeks over Christmas, everything relating to Operation Save My Sanity making over our new home ceased. Well, there was a little painting done just after Christmas and some baseboard trim installed but nothing more. We just couldn’t justify shopping for stuff and that saddened me, deeply, because I am very impatient. Seeing Mike home for 8 weeks and not a lick of work being done to our house was really extremely painful.

I’m a little frustrated that not one of the started projects has yet to be completed in its entirety. It all takes time, money, MOTIVATION!, and knowledge; all of which we have little of. But eventually we will get there. The Upside? If we don’t, maybe the styles will come full circle and everything will be in style again!

Carter’s room is the same colour as the hallways and common areas, which BTW make me retch in disgust and hatred every. single. time. I enter my house.

Now, imagine that paint, that wallpaper and NAVY BLUE CARPET throughout the entire upstairs. Then combine that wallpaper and paint with a on off-white and dusty rose diamond patterned linoleum.

That’s my front foyer.

Uh. Huh.

Anyway, Carter’s room: It was a neutral tan colour which really sucked for a little boy.

Coupled with the navy blue carpet, it really was unsightly, dark and dreary.

Outside his window is a full grown maple tree (which thankfully is far enough away that attempting to escape will be challenging when he gets older.) which lets little natural light in during the day (when it’s full of leaves, until now, in the winter). The bedroom lighting fixture is old, and well – crap. And nothing beats natural light, so the room desperately needed to be brightened up.

We painted the entire room in Bay Waves (Valspar from Lowe’s) accenting with a bright red stripe in well, Bright Red (Valspar from Lowe’s). The blue smaller accent stripes were made using the paint we had remaining from when we re-did his Big Boy Room at the other house.

I just spent the last 40 minutes trying, valiantly, to find a photo – or even a post – of the sheen striping I did in Carter’s room at our old house. Now I am pissed off because this totally reaffirms that I should be much more organized – even in my photo sorting. Stupid organization.

Moving on..

We painted the walls, waited a day and then painted the stripes. I am kicking myself for not investigating striping more thoroughly, because then I would have know how important it is to add a coat of the base colour over a bit of the tape in order to seal it. This will prevent bleeding of the other paints and leave cleaner, crisper lines. I never gave it a second thought because, funnily enough, when I did the striping the one and only other time before, there was no bleed like this room. Especially with the red paint.

I can’t even tell you how upset this made me. It’s still like that. I haven’t had the time or the energy to try and fix it yet. But it goes around the whole room. Some spots worse than others. Mike says just leave it, it’s fine (of course) but I can’t. I plan to re-tape the whole room and paint the Bay Waves colour over the edges of the tape, then re-paint the stripes. I’ve already sanded it smooth and washed it down in preparation for re-painting.

*sigh*

I am so not looking forward to doing it again, but I can’t leave it any longer.

I am in the midst of painting the room right now. After traveling 40 minutes to Lowe’s for another can of Bay Waves, I realized IN THE PARKING LOT that I had forgotten to record the sheen of the paint and had to go home to get the information.

Finally, after being there and back, and there and back (like a Dr. Seuss book), I painted over the blue lines and re-taped the whole room, widening the red line and re-doing the blue all together. I’ve painted the tape in an attempt to seal it from bleeding. I am armed with a utility knife and “precision tape” and WILL. NOT. FAIL.

I’ll let you know how it turns out…

:::

Hudson’s room was a simple paint job. No fancy striping.

We also stripped the popcorn ceiling, which wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. A simple gardening weed and feed hand sprayer, warm water, a drywall knife  and plastic sheeting was all I needed.

But now, the colour is so relaxing. I saw a nursery picture featured at Ohdeedoh using Tranquility and knew it would be perfect. I went to a Benjamin Moore dealer and got a paint chip which I then took to Lowe’s where I used their paint chip matcher to find a similar colour in Valspar paints.

The shelves with baskets and accessories, and photographs are still to be put up.

The light will be replaced with this one:

Very much still a work in progress… and until final payments are made our car (JUNE!!!) and Carter is out of daycare (SEPTEMBER!!!) the  there will be no tearing down walls, pulling carpets or replacing cabinetry. I can’t tell you how much I am looking forward to that stage! But for now, I just have to update the old! dirty! and relic! items to help progress towards this house being OURS…

If you’re interested, here are the posts on our kitchen up-date – which is also, no fully completed.

Next? Main bath.

Things are coming together. I think I’m getting my groove back. You may still occasionally find me huddled in the deep recesses of my new! garage! hiding with my raspberry vodka, but for the most part I think my shit is coming together.

I fell asleep before the kids were in Mike’s recliner on Saturday night; the most sleep I’ve had since prior to BlogHer. Holy shit! Was that three weeks ago already? I can’t believe how fast time has been flying. Two weeks and summer will unofficially be over as the kids (not mine, but yours) are gearing up to go back to school.
The school which Carter will eventually be attending is a stone’s throw from my new house. Seriously, *I* could hit it with a stone. I can see it from my front windows. I’ve been contemplating – again – the idea of sending Carter to Junior Kindergarten. I mean, the daycare has a program there and I only have to suffer through one pick up and drop off, but the money….even the mere two hundred dollars we could save would be beneficial (especially when daycare fees are the same as our mortgage. 1840 big ones. Per month. Yes, that’s right.)

The Incident in Carter’s class has somewhat dissipated as the offending person has been removed from the daycare. They will not be returning. Ever.
Thanks to you and your comments, I realize that you’re right. I didn’t fail my child but the person in question failed me. I can’t help but still feel that twinge of guilt in my pit of my stomach: I should be home caring for my children. I should be their primary caregiver. I don’t know that that will ever go away.

Aside from that, I feel a little more comfortable about the whole thing. Still uneasy, but better.

Except. By process of elimination I am fairly certain I know who the victim was (is).

My heart breaks for them. Their whole family. I wish nothing more than to be able to do something for them. To take away that pain and worry and heartache they are certainly feeling.

CAS has someone going to the daycare to talk to children whose parents have concerns and aren’t sure how to broach the subject with their child. I am leary about having a stranger talk to Carter about such a sensitive issue. We’ve had a number of discussions which lead me to believe that he understands what private parts are and who can touch you. He hasn’t exhibited any signs which we’ve been instructed to look out for, so we’re pretty confident that we’re on the right path to educating him. But! I worry that I’m not taking every aveune available to us by declining the interviews at the daycare.

Can we ever win this mental battle of Parent Guilt?

P.S. There’s pictures coming. I swear. I have to try and locate my camera.

P.S. Who’s coming to help strip wallpaper and paint? I have a pool and margarita mix!

I always wondered what it would feel like to cheat. Is the thought of being caught as exhilarating as one says? Would one be so invested in this other relationship that it really wouldn’t matter should ones indiscretion come to light ? How could someone ever cheat worry ALL. THE. TIME.?

I now have my answers.

I never thought I could be one to cheat. I don’t think I can lie that well – but, apparently one does not have to be able to lie: well, in my case I don’t.

When I first cheated I was in a bad spot and needed help. I wanted nothing more to fix things but as stresses mounted I was put in a position where I felt compelled to rely on another.  Completely unavailable to me, at one of my weakest points, I left – hand in hand – lead away, not only by my lust, but the volatility of our relationship which brought us to this crossroad. I push buttons, we’d push and pull, then sooner or later one of us would end up overheated before turning our back on the other, moving our separate ways. Occasionally we’ve found our way back to each other, but it’s not the same as it once was. That lust is gone. That strong sense of desire; gone.

Before I cheated, I was certain we would work things out. I was certain it was a phase and we would once again, find our way back to each other. Now? Things are different. The attention I get elsewhere is undeniable. The attention to detail, the precision of our movements; together as one. As cliche as it sounds: we were made for each other. Being together – as one – is magical and perfect. It’s everything it should be.

I just don’t know how to tell my beloved that it’s over. I’ve found another and I am moving on. I just don’t know what else I can do. There is nothing left. There’s nothing that binds us as it once had.

How do I tell my beloved Bissell I am leaving for a Dyson?

Okay, so I’m not REALLY leaving. I’m just dreaming of leaving.

I borrowed my step-mom’s vacuum cleaner; her Dyson, while we were moving and can I just tell you I thought I would love them before because – well, who wouldn’t? Shiny, pretty and they are said to have amazing suction, right? But they come in purple!? Purple, people.

I am planning my escape to be with this wondrous beauty. I am hoping to let my Bissell down gently, but I just haven’t found the words. It’s been so faithful over the past few years that I can’t bring myself to throw it to the side of the road, wiping my hands as I turn my back on it.

But dude? DYSON.

Or….

A violent death could make my dreams a little more conceivable. Maybe a fall down the stairs? An unfortunate meeting with a pool wet spot – I could tell Mike: “Well, I didn’t know it wasn’t able to suck up liquids” and shrug as I slyly disguise my grin with a shoulder shrug and a slight toss of my hair.

Or I could be smart and ask him right after sex. That always wins.

Regardless. I have a new mission.

A mission which I assume will take many months of planning to execute just so.

A mission that will have to be coordinated to the very last detail so not to upset the other appliances or my husband.

After all, it would be dreadful if they were to stage a coup; revoke my right to cook boil water, have clean clothes or marvel at their beauty as I admire myself in their reflection their lustrous shine.

They all deserve their time to be shiny, right?

In time my friend. In time.

You will be mine. You will be mine.

Falling apart at the seams at the moment. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in four years 2 weeks. I am like the walking dead these days.

We’re installing our dishwasher for the fifth time.

We still have working dryer or microwave (but they sure are pretty!).

Hudson’s been sick with diarrhea, throwing up AND teething. Kicked out of daycare on Thursday for barfing on the teacher. (Okay, so it wasn’t because he barfed on the teacher but instead, just because he barfed.)

Carter has been just one big clusterfuck of MELTDOWNS. He’s acting out for attention I’m sure and because his whole world has been turned upside down. (Still concerned about the whole situation, but there’s been no updates as of yet. These meltdowns have been fucking with my brain too. Now I keep thinking is it because we’ve moved? Please let this attitude be because we’ved moved.)

I’ve been told that I am probably one of the worst housekeepers in existence; a that’s a story for another day because I am too hurt and upset about the whole thing right now. I wouldn’t want to say something hurtful and mean while I am angry. That would just be irresponsible now wouldn’t it? Ahem.

I have no internet, cable or telephone until approximately between 8am and 5pm tomorrow and I could really use some anonymous blogging at the moment.

I have no air conditioning and it’s hotter than The Gates of Hell in my house. Furnace is being installed on Wednesday, along with my new air conditioning unit. I was able to swim for about 10 minutes last night before a colossal downpour and thunderstorm struck finding us relegated to the house, again.

Found leaks in my laundry room with the rain and realized that some of it may just be condensation because it’s SO. FUCKING. HOT.

IZ NEED SUM TYME.

I’ve been without internet for the past 4 days. It literally feels like 4 weeks.

We’re in the process of moving into our new home – which unfortunately (but not really) needed all brand new appliances after we had a chance to try everything out. The dishwasher leaks all over the floor, the oven requires pliers to turn it on; even then you have to guess the temperature at which you’re cooking. So it’s really a hit and miss with that one.

The fridge doesn’t fit. Apparently the previous owner was more than happy to open the fridge LESS THAN HALF WAY for the past ten years. I? Am not. (There is a counter perpendicular to the fridge which prevents the door from being opened in its entirety. Therefore, I had to go with french doors and a bottom mounted freezer. DAMN. I know. You feel bad, right?)

I had no idea shopping for appliances would be so exhilarating. The hunting, the comparing, the bartering? AWESOME. We were able to decrease the cost of the six appliances by $2,000 at the end of the day. Not to mention the 5 year service plan tossed in at 1/3 or the price AND a year’s worth of laundry detergent.

Yes. Laundry detergent.

For my new front end loading high efficiency machines.

No. Not The Electroluxes.

But! They are LG ones. Beautiful shiny LG.

Because Life’s Good, yanno?

*snicker*

I’ve been cleaning, moving, packing, unpacking, washing, scrubbing, vacuuming, limping and whining for the past four days.

It’s been mad fun, people. Mad fun.

We’re still preparing our old home for sale as we move into this new house. There’s TONS of painting and cosmetic fix-ups to do and I have no idea where to start. I need someone to come and organize my brain.

HALP!

I have no internet at my house for ANOTHER WEEK. I am using wifi at the local coffee shop to send off some work for clients and catch up on the mess that is my inbox. My push-a-button-four-times-to-type-one-letter proves to be quite inferior when I try to read and reply to email on that shit.

I think I’m now getting The Stink Eye from the barista telling me to buy another coffee or get the hell out.

(Are they still baristas if it’s not Starbucks? Because if not I’ll just call her My Coffee Bitch.)

((If you are My Coffee Bitch instead of a Starbucks barista, please do not take offense. You’re still JUST as important to me!))

I’ll try and check in again if I can manage to part the sea of boxes (yes, just like That Dude who parted the sea. The Red Sea? Moses? I have no idea) and can break away for a bit.

This past weekend was my very first BlogHer and since I’ve been writing on this site for over three years now, I’ve come to *know* quite a few people. I’ve become very close with a gigantic mitt full of them making it even more surreal to have those people (and more) in the same room at the same time, talking face to face. There’s no other way to describe it other than completely surreal. I mean, you know all about them: their loves, their children, their hard times, their fears and to have never laid eyes on them until that meeting and know exactly who they are is pretty fuckin’ cool.

I can’t remember which night was which nor where I’ve ever had so much fun before.

Krystle (@snarkykisses), Moi and Miss Karen (@karensugarpants) at The Sparklecorn Extravaganza hosted by MamaPop.

photo lifted from Dove Clinical Protection Photo Booth @ MamaPopRocks Sparklecorn Extravaganza

I stayed up all hours of the night living off basic necessities like coffee, pop and free swag food – and free alcohol (DUH!). I think I had one staple meal the entire weekend.

I felt like I was in college again.

Totally hugging on The Michelin Man in the Expo

Totally crushed on people I’ve been reading FOREVER like the GORGEOUS and very sizzle Sizzle.

Me and Sizzle

And her? OMG HER. I would move to Florida and live in a cardboard box just to be with her all the time.

Me and Miss Britt

My Americus twin. I don’t know what more I can say about her besides she’s funny, GORGEOUS and so generous.

Angie and Me. Us. Forever.

Oh, and she likes my bewbs.

My Ali (@alimartell), Me and my Angie, bewb lover (@alotofnothing)

Wednesday night, our BlogHer Carpoolers‘ vehicle arrived. Chevy dropped off a beautiful 2010 Equinox which I immediately fell head over heels for. It’s an amazing drive which I totally pimped out the whole time (because I wanted to, not because they plied me with alcohol and free food). I think I may have even sold it to the gas station attendant I caught drooling all over the hood.

I arrived at Miss Karen Sugarpants‘ house where she greeted me at the door with a beer in hand. Which totally makes up for her calling me a twat. Then I spooned her and snored sweet nothings in her ear for about two hours before we got up and headed out on our eight hour drive to Chicago. Giddy like little high school girls we crossed the border into Americus blaring Britney Spears while Karen earned her new moniker @karengrannypants.

And America? Can you please talk to Target about opening their doors at 7:00am. Kthxbai.

Arrived in Chicago short on hearing (I think @karengrannypants forgot her hearing aid back home because the stereo was louder than loud and my ears were ringing for DAYS) where we met up with my twin, my stalker (WUUUUT?) (P.S. Fuckin’ LOVE her), Miss Shash and my dearest Avitable (Yes, I said dear). A warm welcome indeed.

After finding our room and cracking open our WalMart beer (I never thought I could love WalMart or America more) we met up with Mrs. Flinger (but don’t click that link because Ree has beaten Leslie’s server to a pulp and there’s nothing there.) in the hall as they stuffed bags for the Room 704 Party. Skype doesn’t do that woman justice people. Mrs. Flinger is all kindsa awesomesauce!

Thursday night has become a blur of FINALLY meeting my imaginary friends, parties and swag.

Seriously? What is this swag y’all are talking about? I’ve never even heard of swag. Swag gives me hives.

(If you haven’t listened to Dane Cook’s ‘The Nothing Fight’ then that will mean absolutely nothing to you, just carry on.. we’re walking… we’re walking…)

I know Craftastrophe won a weapon, I drank some beer and walked about six city blocks at 3 o’clock in the morning only to turn around and go back to the hotel.

I paid for a conference pass yet didn’t attend one panel. I’m not sad about that in the least. Because you know what? That conference pass was worth just being a part of those Community Keynotes (Can’t find a link to video at the moment, sorry!) and the Room of Your Own sessions. I stressed a little that I was wasting my money not attending them until that Community Keynote. Then I KNEW why I was there.

Friday night’s Nikon Cocktail Party was totally fabulous. Met some goreous women, and hung out with some of my favourite ladies while I contemplated approaching Carson Kressley but shied away from his lips critisism fame and watched from a distance.

Can I just tell you that party? So well put together, so much fun pretty well the highlight of the trip.

Or so I thought.

Because that was BEFORE I made it to the Sparklecorn Extravaganza.

Oh.

My.

Gah.

I didn’t even get any cake, just a giant unicorn leg of fondant icing.

Unicorn cake. OMFG.

picture from amysprite’s flickr. Go see. She’s AMAZING!

But like Karen said: The party was like a HUGE wedding without all the boring stuff.

And then I went all Gene Simmons on Mrs. Flinger.

So ya. That’s BlogHer.

Ahem.

Oh! And Casey. My dear sweet Casey.

Nothing but perfection.

Another amysprite pic.

________________________

Side Note:

I wanted to thank you all for your outpouring of support during our difficult time in The House of Me. I don’t think I’d be as sane right now if it weren’t for you. So thank you from the bottom of my cold, dark, shriveled heart.

I love you.

There are interviews being conducted with the children starting in two weeks. I haven’t decided if I should be there or just have Carter talked to someone without me there. I’m working through that at the moment.

We close on our new house TODAY. Our internet will be cut from this afternoon until the 11th of August so I have no idea when I’ll be checking in again. I’ll do my best to keep up with e-mails for The Business and I’ll be here and there when my addiction sees that it’s time to head to the nearest WiFi location.

<3

P.S. None of the photos are mine. I’ve stolen each and every one of them. There’s been NO time to download my camera. If you click the photo it will link you to its rightful owner.

We move in 28 days. Twenty. Eight.

We went from just looking to owning a new home so fast that I think I’ve now began having cold feet. I’ve started panicking, thinking we can’t afford it, we didn’t think it through, we jumped in too fast. But when everything is said and done, I remember that I LOVE the house and the possibilities are endless once we save a little more for the renovations we have in mind.

With our enormous childcare bill each month, we’re now going to be in a tight financial bind for the next 12 months, but we knew that going in. It’s just a little daunting thinking that we’re putting out a HUGE portion of our income in childcare and mortgage costs alone.

Welcome to big city living.

I’m managing my house, my children, my job, the packing, the purging, the lawyers, the realtor, our bank, my business and I can’t seem to find enough time to do everything. I’m staying up later, getting up later (meaning narrowly being late for work each day) and lacking any semblance of normalcy at the moment.

Though I find it extremely nerve-racking, I am better at organizing, prioritizing and more productive. (Not that you could tell from the state of my house at the moment because HOLY. SHIT. it’s a mess.)

I’m stressed.

So stressed.

I worry, I over think, I compare, I am pessimistic and I can’t stand when Someone* is not doing as much as I think they should. I get upset and angry; I lash out at Someone when Someone comes home late from work even though I know Someones hands are tied. I know what the construction industry is like, yet I feel this resentment and anger that I am on the short end of the stick all the time.

(The next three paragraphs had turned into a woe is me rant about how hard done by I am so I erased them…everyone’s problems are significant to them and really? I have nothing to complain about at the moment. Things are on the up swing and we’re moving to a new house with a POOL!! I can’t complain. I’m just stressed and closing in on my capacity of handling things somewhat efficiently before I start dropping balls.)

((Moving day hasn’t even arrived yet.))

(((Or BlogHer.)))

((((When I asked Mike what he would take care of the weekend I was away at BlogHer he said “Well, I’m not packing or anything. I have two kids! How do you expect me to get anything done?”))))

(((((I replied with manic laughter.)))))

((((((He got mad at me.))))))

((((((Someone bring me some Xannax at BlogHer please?))))))

__________________________

*Someone who shall remain nameless because apparently I’ve been nagging and harping a lot. It doesn’t feel like nagging or harping when that person’s name is not associated with the nagging words so it’s better this way. Says I.

We’ve owned our new home for all of, what? Maybe 96 hours and I have the entire thing mentally renovated and updated to my really-really-really-must-have-but-likely-can’t-afford standards.

Including my Electrolux appliances. *ahem* Hear that Electrolux? I did my part. I got the house. Now pony up. Please. (Pretty please.)

Mike and I already disagree on just about everything. He hates hardwood, I LOVE hardwood. He thinks a stand alone bathtub – reclaimed claw foot tub – is a waste of money and would decrease the value of the home. I think it’s beautiful and perfect.

*pffft*

Who here is the HGTV design maven? Not him. Me. Yet he wants to fight upgrades and prettiness? I guarantee I will win the brawl. Who’s taken bets?

He’s upset that I’ve already talked to contractors (we know) – professionals – about coming in and changing some of the immediate things. Like this room:

(It’s an image from the listing. That is not my furniture.)

(Totally unrelated, I can’t play anything on a piano except for Chopsticks.)

(I’d like to learn, but I didn’t ask the seller to include the piano.)

(Mike would have said it was a waste of money.)

(He’d be right.)

This room and a ceiling to floor (well, the carpet is staying actually) gut. The walls are original barn board which leaves a smell of, um… wood and lots of wood.

(Ha! Wood.)

Mike wants to be the one to complete this room, but he is a “shoot first think later” type of guy (thank the Lord he’s not a cop) and well, I’m a planner.

The last project we did together he didn’t measure a damn thing, just eyeballed the whole thing. He came back from the Home Depot when two rolls of sod, ten small interlocking stones and a bag of sand.

He was building a walkway.

I shit you not.

In reality he needed three times that and only went back because I nagged the shit out of him asked him to.

So ya. Husband? House? NO TOUCHING.

Maybe he can be my pool boy.

Hello pool!!!

Um. Ya. Wallpaper will be done before I even try and eat a meal in this house.

My plan is to open this up so that the counter goes all the way around to the far wall and the sitting area will be where the dining room is (behind the stove) because we are not dining room people at all.

Mike thinks it’s fine just like this.

[blank stare]

Oh look! A pool!!

I am now accepting applications for my pool boy.

Please send a long a CHEST shot and a photo of you holding your pole.

The telescopic cleaning pool.

Geez.

________________

Hizzy: One’s place of residence. Hizzy.

As in:  We goin to mah hizzy.

(Sounds a little like LOLSpeak to me. *shrugs*)

________________

Editor’s Note: Gosh! (say it like Napoleon Dynamite) I sound like I think my husband is worthless, but I assure you he’s not. He can whip up a mean bacon and eggs. Also? Good daddy. But! Design maven he is not. This is my territory people. I want it.