I like, and I miss
With each passing day I’m learning more about our new home, and further despairing of ever finishing unpacking. At a certain point here I’m just going to start throwing little knitted doilies over everything and pretending that it’s part of the decor.
Fiddle-dee-dee! Set your drink over there on that stack of, um, art!
I did spend a couple of hours upstairs in the kids’ rooms unpacking the countless boxes of their stuff, today, and they expressed their thanks by rejoicing over the contents and then making a gigantic mess of all their refound stuff and pelting each other with toys until I told them to stop it before I put the two of them into a couple of boxes. read more…
Just don’t ask about the pool
We are totally all moved in now.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I am so funny.
Well, we did manage to finish unpacking the kitchen. We ate so much take-out that I started whining about how I was sure I was getting scurvy, or maybe rickets, I couldn’t be sure, and DAMMIT we needed to get back to eating like moderately healthful humans. So we put everything away in a flurry of negotiations (whose wine glasses get to go in the rack? do we keep both crockpots?) and then the kitchen was ready for use at last.
We celebrated this auspicious event with a trip to Kroger to spend what little money we haven’t already spent at Lowe’s, and just to give you an idea of how bad things had gotten, Chickadee got ALL EXCITED about having BANANAS. Yes. read more…
Everyone ate their weight in sugar
Hello! I would’ve blogged last night except that I was busy trying to extract my own eyeball and go to sleep. Simultaneously.
In an effort to celebrate the 4th of July in style, we packed up the kids and headed to Joshilyn‘s house. Joss had put on her very best southern accent and assured me that they “do it up right ’round here” when she invited us a while back, and who am I to turn down such an invitation?
I had mentioned to Joss (several times) that Chickadee was dying, and I do mean DYING, to meet Maisy. Chickie loves little kids. Well I guess this had been passed along to Miss Maisy, because she greeted Chickadee at the door in her quacky little duck voice with a hearty “Are you the girl who has been wanting to meet me? Here I am!” read more…
The adjusting has begun
To my surprise and delight, both children slept through their first night here in the new house without a peep or a problem. We were all awakened this morning by the contractors (which may explain why the neighbors haven’t come over to greet us, because before we moved in there probably wasn’t any pounding happening at 6:30 in the morning on this block) and Monkey came downstairs and hopped into bed with me and Otto.
“Hello!” he greeted us. “I had a good sleep!” As if he’d slept here a million times and hopped up to start the day with us the same way for the last year or seven.
“Good morning my sweet boy,” I answered. We snuggled and I kissed his head and asked him what we should do now.
“Let’s have a wild party!” he answered without hesitation. To demonstrate exactly how wild it would be, he burrowed under the covers and shook his butt in the air. That may be when Otto decided to get up and take a shower. read more…
I’m drinking champagne RIGHT NOW
Hey, we’re all moved in now. I know this because the boxes are piled up to the ceiling, I have vowed never to speak to anyone at the moving company ever again, the children have arrived and bounced off the walls and declared their closets secret clubhouses (hey, did you know that in Georgia most people do not have basements? and so there are many many closets, as a pitiful excuse for storage, instead?), and there is no paint or anything having to do with paint sitting around on my floor anymore.
So, yeah, it’s simply lovely, and if you don’t mind getting lost in the Magical Box Labryinth or being woken up at dawn by the contractors, you should totally come on over. read more…
There are no pictures. . .
… because I can no longer lift my arms.
Maybe next week.
So. Um. We bought this house, and then we pretty much went over there and painted for the next forty eight hours straight. Otto managed to lure various friends of his over to assist, which was nice, but it was still a whoooooole lotta painting. AND we’re not done yet! Because the copper wall takes TWO coats of base color and TWO coats of metallic overlay, which means we have one more metallic layer to go tomorrow, after which I suspect the living room will be six inches narrower than it was before we started, because HOLY HELL four coats of paint seems like a lot. Also, cathedral ceilings are highly overrated. read more…
Love made us land barons
As of around 5:00 this afternoon, Otto and I are now the proud owners of three houses. We think it’s good to have a couple of spares around, just in case, you know.
He did carry me over the threshold, though he didn’t throw me in the pool… probably because the pool was still looking a little scary. (The pool people are coming tomorrow to finish readying it, which I hope means they will be vacuuming up the fuzzy stuff floating all over the bottom, because EWW.)
I didn’t accidentally sign my old name even once on the mortgage paperwork! A good way to learn your new name is to sign it eleventy billion times on pieces of paper that say things like “I agree to repay the bank a million trillion dollars in interest or I authorize them to pull off my fingernails and feed them to me while Bette Midler sings.” read more…
15 hours, 50 years
I do hereby recommend that everyone be required to take one really long-ass road trip with one’s new spouse within the first few months of getting married. This will be a perfect test of compatibility and tolerance for the long haul (as it were) of the union as a whole, right there in the microcosm where no matter where you go, there are a dozen McDonald’s and nothing decent to eat.
Otto and I seem to have cleared this hurdle without much trouble, although it was certainly an experience to remember.
This is not about packing
Today marks a momentous occasion: For the first time in weeks, I have nothing to say about the packing of boxes. Hooray!
I have to admit, however, that the “oh yeah, throw that in the back wherever, I don’t need it” bag which Otto wedged into the trunk behind everything else did end up being the back into which I’d put my medication. WHOOPS. He was a very good sport about retrieving it for me when I pointed out that PROBABLY I could go without my estrogen without turning into a man for quite a while (and then my dad looked at his watch and said, “Probably not before 4 this afternoon, anyway”).
The cheesecake brownies from my favorite high school haunt have been purchased and set aside for the trip; the sushi has been consumed in copious quantities; the moving company has left me a lengthy voicemail apologizing for yesterday’s debacle but neglecting to sense the irony in reporting that oh, by the way, they don’t have a delivery date for me yet (that was promised to me by this morning); four people have popped up out of nowhere to respond to my Craigslist listings from last week now that everything is sold and gone.
In other words, we’re getting into the car tomorrow morning and getting out in Georgia tomorrow night, and things are going about the way you’d expect them to if you were me.
By this time tomorrow, we’ll be home.
And then I burst into flames
Hello! Did you know that most people, when they move, hire some people to come move them, and the people come, and their stuff gets moved, and other than maybe a missed box or a broken chair or something, it’s pretty straightforward and uninteresting?
Those people do not have blogs. Also those people are not me.
If you are me, it has to be a long involved process which may or may not end with your stuff being loaded on a truck for later delivery. Who knows! It’s an adventure! And we lived, so I guess it’s okay. read more…