1. A few months ago I had to eat all the snide comments I had previously made about Crocs having become the proud owner of a very comfortable pair of black Mary Janes.
Important fact about Crocs coming up.
FACT: CROCS ARE NOT MADE FOR HIKING. IF YOU ATTEMPT TO HIKE DOWN ANYTHING GREATER THAN A 45 DEGREE ANGLE IN THESE SHOES YOU WILL SPEND AT LEAST A PORTION OF THAT JOURNEY ON YOUR BUM LOOKING AROUND FURTIVELY TO SEE IF ANYONE WITNESSED YOUR SHAME. I AM SPEAKING FROM EXPERIENCE.
2. For me, going for a pedicure is like having someone in to clean your home or going to the dentist. I can't go without doing clean up first.
I need to look into wearing socks in the summer.
They probably would look pretty fashionable with my crocs.
3. Don't wear flip flops anywhere near young boys wearing soccer cleats.
I have learned this lesson again and again.
My big toe curses me (and Jacob) for not remembering this lesson.
I finally got around to taking some house pictures. We are now firmly ensconced in the main living area and day by day we cease to see the things that need to be finished.
Until someone comes over or I take pictures.
Then all the work yet to be done seems a little overwhelming.
Last night showed me how Long Island iced teas can be instrumental in making these things a little more easy to whelm.
And the day after Long Island iced teas makes it a little more easy for me to use words that I may or may not have made up, like whelm.
So here is the grand tour of things we have still to do:
Left to do: decorate/closet built ins
Preferably in Pokemon type things.
Second verse, same as the first.
Early contemporary moving leftovers with a little country flair.
The view from our bedroom:
The ensuite (needs light and tile) or as Gorgeous George says, "Where the magic happens".
The living area from the "bridge"
Great room from the stairs
Great room from the foyer (we're thinking of rocking the fireplace, not sure if plywood is giving us the look we're after).
Kitchen/dining area. Our kitchen is still not finished.
Apparently when they say, "Yes we can schedule it for the end of May and it will take 2 - maybe 3 days, tops." what they really mean is, "Give us half our money, sucker, we will come when we feel like it, we won't return your calls because you can't make us and if we finish it in under two months you can consider yourself lucky, so suck it."
Great room from the kitchen/dining area.
My craftroom. I am completely spoiled.
Eventually my carpenter will make me built ins to hide all the crap (scrapbooking goodness) in this room.
I have a niggling feeling this will come after the theatre room.
Just a hunch.
Gorgeous George's office.
He is now a man with a view.
The back deck.
We are on the one week countdown to be able to go on the lawn.
This, my friends, is a big deal when you have 2 little boys on summer holidays.
1. You hooked up that wireless interweb thingie so I can sit on my butt in one room and steal pictures from the computer downstairs and print them in another room.
All. Without. Getting. Up.
And I know you know how much I like not having to get up to do stuff.
2. You have acquired a taste for things like avocado and feta cheese through sheer will. I know this may be due to the fact that I will serve them anyway because I like them, but I appreciate the fact that I don't have to deal with two Lucas' (Luci?) at dinnertime.
3. You painted our whole house by yourself. I'm going to choose to believe it's partly because you know how much I loathe to paint and not only because you think I'm a totally inept painter. Plus you only got mad at me a little when I changed paint colours 8 times throughout this house. (PS Yes, the three bedroom colours are different. It is a subtle difference.)
4. You can sew. And aren't embarrassed to admit it.
5. You build really cool stuff. And fast.
6. These guys
(Sometimes this one actually counts against you. Like when younger boy does things like drop his gameboy in the toilet while using the toilet even though his mom had thought that could be a distinct possibility that playing/peeing at the same time would seem like a good idea to younger boy and made the "no-electronics-in-the-bathroom rule". Or when older boy follows me around, joke book in hand reading non-stop and prefacing each joke with "moooom" to make sure I'm rapt with interest. But mostly they're on the pro side)
7. You'll drive to DQ just to get me a blizzard at 9:30 at night (even though I have been complaining the week before about how fat I feel and how I'm totally going to start my diet right now and that's that.)
8. Even though you do all the "outside stuff" you still help me with the vacuuming because you know how much I hate to vacuum.
9. You read my blog and crack yourself up leaving comments under your clever pseudonym. (You are not as funny as you think you are Gorgeous George).
In the last 6 weeks, I have learned a random thing or two.
I am more like my mom than I thought
(I realized this as I spent 30 minutes chatting with a friend in the dairy department of the grocery store the other evening. I was also indulging in some vigorous hand talking, which my mom has down to an artform, and which I believe I may have mocked her about in the past.)
Gorgeous George is good at tons of stuff. However, if we ever needed anything estimated, we might want to hire a guy. No offense GG.
(I realized this on week four of the "3 day paint job" our house was going to take.)
Santa Claus can not be me for three reasons.
1. He's a boy (duh).
2. What about all the elves?
3. Why would I buy more presents for the boys when I already spent my money on other toys?
(Thank you, Lucas. Your powers of deduction are only outweighed by your charm and good looks.)
When GG "critically instructs" me, deep down inside he is really wanting to say, "Cheryl, I am a complete control freak and while I appreciate what you are doing, I would rather do everything myself. Except for cleaning toilets. And cooking."
(So my new game plan is don't do anything until asked. I'm taking instruction from the boys on this.)
I am extremely youthful looking, regardless of my actual age.
(Okay, so I know this much is not really true, but I had to figure out a way to segue into telling everyone that I got asked for ID at the liquor store the other day.)
When you go to the beach or intend to spend time outside in 35 degree weather, remember to sunscreen places like the space in between your boobs (especially if you have a new bathing suit that goes 2 inches lower in that area than your old bathing suit) and your lips.
(While peeling skin is never an attractive accessory, it is particularly unattractive in those two areas.)
Shooters after a few margaritas at our weekly margarita party is never a good idea.
(I may have mentioned this one before, but I think it bears repeating, mostly because I forget this one every couple of weeks.)
If you know that the building inspector is coming over to decide whether or not he will grant you occupancy and you have a dog that while mostly very sweet, has also been known to take offense to certain people and growl and bark like she actually might do something about it, lock her up.
(This is an especially important rule of thumb when you have actually already moved your stuff in, unpacked it and have been sleeping in the house for the last couple of weeks.)
Addendum to Building Inspector Rule: It is a good thing to have a husband who is well versed in the art of schmoozing. Given enough time he can reverse the damage done by fat stupid little dog.
Going without things like, say, a fridge and a stove, or maybe a kitchen for a few weeks, can make your spoiled self appreciate these things when you finally get them.
(I'm going to appreciate the hell out of my kitchen cabinets when they're finally finished).
Blogs are usually better with photos.
Lucas at 6 months. Cold hard proof for those of you who said he couldn't have looked like ET as a baby.
The boys the other day on our soon to be finished (today fingers crossed) veranda.