Unveiling

We've had one of those mornings where someone had cookies for breakfast before school, someone threw up on the couch and a box of Cheerios got dumped out all over the table. Oh, and someone discovered she left lil' smokies in the microwave all night--it's still blinking "end." That Tess D'Ubervilles on Masterpiece Theatre was so riveting last night.

Oh well, the slipcovers needed to be washed and we need to clean out the cupboards and fridge anyway.

Speaking of, I need to declutter. Any suggestions? I pretty much want to pick your brains and know your mindset about getting rid of things. Like, the endless flow of juvenile artwork. And schoolwork. And artwork. I simply cannot treasure it all.

And I did finish working on this.

Before:

After:
I was going to paint diamonds and copy Jennifer P., but started to get overwhelmed and realized I wouldn't know how to hang pictures over them, so I'll paint some elsewhere.

The colors are Tobacco Road and Swiss Coffee. So, come get your faux caffeine and nicotine fixes here. Sorry, no real stuff. However if you really do need a fix, I do have an obliging neighbor who lately is into taking her smoking on the road--as in walking all over the neighborhood doing it as opposed to confining it to her backyard like she used to do. I'm not at all peeved.

One wall down, 31 to go. Yes, the whole house needs redoing, thank you children. Thank you Self for picking poor shades of paint the first time.
Now I need some second opinions on this wall.

Do I paint stripes or do it solid Tobacco Road? Is it too weird to have two stripe accent walls and two solid walls (one if which is broken up with three windows and the front door)?

I'm leaning toward stripes, but am not sure I want to go through all the effort again. However, it wasn't that bad and it was worth it the first time, so what do you think?

So, how should I declutter the most efficiently, like say, that DESK that the lamp is strategically covering, and to stripe or not to stripe?

Still Here, Flying High

I'm not dead. Definitely NOT pregnant. Just coming out of writer's block. I couldn't think of anything un-boring.

I thought the adventure of taking my children to the craft store would be enough blog fodder--they were less than ideal and I was embarrassed, but I could not remember enough dramatic detail to make it worthwhile. However when I called my mom to ask her something and was muttering about my wild children, she said, "I hear some kids...are those yours?" And she laughed. Yeah, they were mine and they were halfway across the store. I'm not lying. It's a small craft store. Not boutique small, though.

Then I wondered if it was worth mentioning about little S-man peeing on his sister in the tub. But it was definitely one where you had to be there.

And don't think Mr Destructo hasn't been busy. But I blocked out half the crap he did to save those scattered brain cells from shrivelling up or running screaming to Loonytowne. There was one day I thought for sure he had killed or paralyzed his little brother (on accident, of course). Luckily S-man has guardian angels and was completely out of harm's way--which this time was in the form of the wooden board from the bunk bed (the long one that keeps kids from rolling off) being thrown off and onto the floor.

You'd think I could have taken pictures of the booty on Christmas morn, but remember I'm halfway mental. I don't think I took one of the kids with their stuff. I might regret it later. I did think it was of the uppermost importance however to get a picture of

the scissors that broke opening the toys.

Note to self: don't buy cheap scissors for opening Percy and Toby trains.

But finally, I think I have something good, but I'm sure is only really of interest to me. After three months--at least--of several gallons of paint sitting in my laundry room waiting to be used, and talking about doing it for longer than the three months, I finally began phase one of

painting the living room.

Ooh! See those bumps under the star's right arm? Take note of them.

I never loved this brown color because it was too rusty and not enough chocolatey for me and those huge white spots? They're the joke my husband will never live down. (Don't worry, he laughs at it too.) Where he put massive amounts of spackle on nail holes (that were rather big nail holes) and then lightly sanded the top--rather than sanding the stuff down until it was flush with the wall. I have lived with those lumps for 3 1/2 years! (Oh and more than half of those are mistakes from the people before us. We're not that bad at painting.)

We've since learned how to spackle, but imagine my relief when the lumps sanded off easily with the sander. I thought for sure the paint would be cured as hard as a rock. Proved otherwise. Questioning the integrity of the paint I use.

Before this gets too monumentally boring, I have a surprise coming on these walls, that's not a surprise to some people because I don't always keep secrets well (make notes to yourself on that one), that I hope works and doesn't inspire an I-hate-painting-and-they-need-to-invent-new-swear-words-because-just-I've-exhausted-all-the-ones-currently-available-plus-the-one-English-word-I-know post. I'll keep you posted. I promise. Maybe I'll make the goal to post once a week at least. Because so many people out there are just dying to read my gibberish. Not really. I'll have all 13.7 of you know, I decided as I was already painting that maybe I'd make the resolution to not be lazy this year. Yeah, we'll see how well that goes.

Here's the gingerbread cookie the hubster decorated to look like my missionary brother. Who comes home in TWO WEEKS!!!! He's going to get a big shock leaving Panama for a foot of snow (and counting). I'm going to say, this cookie looked a lot better than the ones he did with pink frosting that were a little, well, suggestive. Needless to say, I think we learned that we cant's do really big sloppy dots in a hurry. Sorry, no pictures. This is a family blog.

Paint-eating Nibblers

So, today at about lunchtime (incidentally 2:00--I have told you I'm a bad mom) I decided that I needed to paint our kitchen table. I had (notice had) seeds to plant, have flowers to plant, have a filthy back door to caulk and paint, and 153 other little things to do, like laundry and floor mopping, but instead, I elected to paint the table. And I did. I sanded it inside because I wanted to enjoy my air conditioning on this high 90's day and until you've experienced sanding dust blowing around from the ceiling fan, you haven't lived.

Anyhow, I managed drag the table out to the carport and get one coat on, even with Lexie and her friend Cannon telling me to hide from the killer king and queen squirrels that were coming. I could not convince them that I'd be safe from them or that I would kill the squirrels by painting them. According to Cannon, the squirrels would eat me because they like to eat paint.

He continued to inform me that the squirrels (which multiplied to four) ate everything, including metal and doors and trees and bushes and the sheds. I'm telling you, it would have been futile for us to hide because those squirrels for sure would have had us. They were indestructible, though Cannon assured me he would kill them for us. His weapon: a kid's plastic and faux-metal hand rake.

I felt so safe.

I was painting furiously so the squirrels wouldn't get me (and because my paint was drying super fast) while Cannon continued listing what the squirrels could destroy. My favorite was when he said they "nibbled through metal" and apparently I missed when he said they'd eat Lexie's soccer ball, but all of a sudden, she cried out, outraged, "They can't nibble my soccer ball--Santa gave that to me!" How dare those squirrels. My favorite was manly Cannon telling us the killer squirrels nibbled. Amidst the killer, garden rake-weak killer squirrels who nibble, I got that one coat on. I will even have pictures when it's done and you can tell me how weird it looks. Because it is looking odd.

Guess what I finally did paint after 3 months of it sitting in out in the carport and spiders moving in and setting up web, and going through the gruelling stripping process from someone who didn't know what she was doing? That silly little dresser that those who are near or dear had to suffer through my over-thought debate on what color to choose. All right, boring already.

The before (Lexie drinks out of a sippy cup for fun) (I'm serious):

The after, with the best available lighting:

Anti-climatic, I know. I think I should have painted the knobs, or stained them darker. But I'm lazy. And in real life, the color looks like baby blue, which I didn't really want, but since these boring details are only intensely interesting to me, we're moving on.

I discovered today that Sawyer has at least one molar that's broken through. Want to know how I found out? I was throwing him in the air and when his mouth was open wide while he laughed, I saw it poking through. Did he fuss? Was he cranky? Were his gums swollen? Nope.

Have I mentioned he has to be the best baby ever born on this earth? He's mine and not for sale. If you want to buy a child, Thing One and Thing Two (i.e. Mr. Destructo) are available. Let me know.

I think Spots here wonders where the steam comes out. Or if, which is more likely, he'll get konked in the shnoz with a plastic ball larger than his head. Maybe he just wants his diaper changed.

Lexie was busy. Her toys pale in comparison to Sawyer's.

Busy Bees

Well, I've not posted in a while because we are finally enjoying nice weather in a consistent manner. We've actually gone somewhere around three weeks without snow. Unbelievable. So, we are outside. I even changed our answering machine message to inform people we have moved. We now live, duh, outside. It's easier for me to plant flowers and dig up dirt than to clean the bathroom or fold laundry, so those too will be further neglected. Did I not mention my posts might get further and farther between? As if they're not infrequent enough. I just like to pour my heart and soul and any wit I can scrounge up into my posts and am left exhausted afterward, so I only like to post when I am sure it will be worth it for both parties.

Okay, so I've been out planting flowers and one day a big, yellow, loud bee would not stay away and kept hovering around my head. Yes, I admit my hair looked moderately good after a very long dry spell of looking haggish (due to a long dry spell of having no decent hair products--I ran out), but I didn't know bees were so attracted to a good hairdo. I think it liked the smell, thanks to Paul Mitchell's Super Skinny Serum, which I highly recommend. It is the reason my hair looked at all good. I highly recommend it. Again, apparently. My third grade teacher would be so disgusted at my repetitiveness. Anyway, use this serum to attract bees and butterflies, and maybe even birds, to help pollinate your flowers. And yes, I continued to plant nonchalantly with a big mean bee buzzing around my head. I hardly dared to swat at it and risk it's displeasure. I need say no more, even though I haven't been stung by a bee in so long, I don't even remember what I feels like. Knock on wood...I had to go knock on the piano because I forgot that my computer desk (disaster) is made entirely out of fake Kmart-special wood. We are so classy at the Shiner Circus. Circussly elegant.




Oh yeah, I've also been outside working on this--not in the dirt:



And I did come inside a lot to debate with myself (because the hub-cap doesn't care much about it) over the color to paint it. After four trips to the paint store, and two sample bottles later, I think I've finally come to a decision. Even my semi-indecisive mother told me I'm crazy. Maybe because I had finally settled on a color, only to look at it hanging on my wall for a few days only to decide it wasn't quite right.

Imagine me planning my wedding. I kind of knew what I wanted, when it presented itself, but I knew for darn sure what I didn't want. Yes, things went so smoothly and my mother was not exasperated with me. No, I did not "toss" a pair of open scissors in her general direction when we were disputing how long to cut flowers for centerpieces the night before the main event. Lets not go there. It was my wedding. Okay, we're not going there.

Anyhow, if you're waiting in eager anticipation for the result of the dresser--because I know I am--I'll show pictures later. I've only stripped, sanded (with aqua green boogers as a result), and primed it so far. Only.

Tonight I left Mr Destucto in bed with a book and the light on because her was NOT sleepy, though his siblings were out cold. Why IS that? Here is what we found. The beginning of the end, I'd say. It's not long before we find him in there with flashlights.

Isn't he sweet? And guess what picture he was sleeping on--

Not a hard guess for some. Like my sister-in-law, who I foresee long discussions with over the best place to buy trains for the best prices. She would know. Mr Destructo is only following in her Sweet Boy's footsteps. Can you imagine them as old men cousins yammering about trains together while their teeth fall out and they drool on the tracks? Okay, maybe not. I just wanted to ensure you had plenty of visuals to mull over for the rest of the day. Don't forget about the aqua-green snot.

Another oh yeah--we finally watched Dan in Real Life. FUNN-Y. If you haven't seen this, which I doubt, because we are the last people in middle-class America to see anything, go and watch it immediately. Like, I mean now.