Dear Lord help me all I can manage to do is write link-ups...
My mom comes TODAY. Paint me excited. (what color is that? red? or is that only whorehouses? just wondering - asking for a friend) Actually, we ARE painting - that's why she's coming. We are painting the living room! (finally...why oh why didn't I paint the house when we didn't have a baby, y'know, the first 16 months of our marriage? right cause I was d-d-dumb)
But moving all the furniture today has told me that 1) we are disgusting dirty people and 2) I still hate tile. With tile all the yucky stuff just goes to the farthest wall and stays there, fermenting into a yucky stuff ball of disgusting. Pretty gag worthy!
Am I the only one who finds purging stories so refreshing? It makes me want to throw out everything in my home - and then buy new things to complain about. This must be the definition of first world problems. "I have so much stuff! I have to clean it myself! I can't afford a maid because I keep buying so much stuff! Ugh!"
I found this today and had a moment of silence for my long hair.
Went to Lowes to get paint (in pale orange - God help me) and grabbed some seriously awesome plants in the 50% off-almost-dying rack. Wooooo! 10 plants for $35? Don't mind if I do. Now I will nurse them back to health in my very own plant nursery.
We're going for this, but oddly enough, the paint came with none of these accessories...???
I like to get magazines on my nook so that I'm not cluttering up the house - but it also means that I'm always behind in my reading, because I forget to charge it - A LOT. So the other day I'm perusing a Women's Health from June 2011 or something like that, and find out that the magazine editors decided to write a letter to their readers telling them that in the upcoming election, politicians wanted to take away their birth control - or make the morning after pill illegal. Worse! Personhood amendments, the magazine warned, would protect fertilized eggs before they become a pregnancy.
Look, I'm not a scientist here, but if you've got a fertilized egg inside your body, you're either pregnant or...oops, nope, there are no other options, you're pregnant!
Why do the editors of women's magazines continually presume that all women are interested in is not getting pregnant, looking hot, and giving pleasure to whoever we're shacking up with? I can't believe they insist that THEY are the people who are all about women's rights and we're the oppressive ones...riiiight.
August - November is the birthday season run around here. We have two in August, four in September, three in October, and one in November. By the time we get to Christmas, we're all exhausted - and then we have a January and February. March is a slight reprieve, then April we've got two...but then the summer stretches out, lovely and birthday-less (except for you, Grammy in Heaven, we won't forget June 3rd don't worry).
What is everyone else's present policy? A friend of mine told me the other day that she and her husband don't even buy their kids ANY Christmas presents. At first I almost fell off the chair, but then I realized that they just communicate with grandparents about what they want for the kids and...that's that. Otherwise, she explains, the gifts would be so overwhelming that the holiday would lose all meaning. As Zuzu's first birthday comes up, I'm beginning to see her logic, but the idea of not buying anything makes me sad. Maybe I'll settle for making lots of projects for her instead - quilt a few blankets, etc.
Could YOU say no to this face? I cannot. Even when it's not talking.
Another ask-the-readers edition: how do you deal with photos, momentos, etc? I'm afraid they'll take over our house if I let them. Pretty albums are all well and good, but that takes up valuable shelf space that could be used for, you guessed it, BOOKS. But I can't just get rid of everything sentimental. Tips?
There are many reasons I love Mr. Oram, but one of them is conversations like this:
Me: Lets go cuddle. I'm sad.
Him: Oh, okay. Are you alright?
Me: YES I just NEED to cuddle
(we go cuddle)
Him: Tell me why your sad.
Him: Did you read something sad on the internet?
Me: YES there's this mom and she has breast cancer and it's horrible!
Him: I figured it was something like that. It'll be okay. We'll pray for her tonight....but right now, lets have a nap.
That man knows me too well.