High as a Kite

I am taking a short break from the project. I am texturing all the spots on the walls where I patched nail holes, child induced holes, where the screws are and the mud isn't and all remaining mystery holes. The problem with that many holes is that I have to use a lot of texture and it could easily be considered some of the stinkiest stuff on the planet. Worse than the skunk stink last night. It also gives you a bit of a contact high, that generally culminates in a headache. The headache I already have (as usual) and the high is coming along nicely.

Intermission: The boys just came home with dinner from Burgerville. Yum, a blackberry milkshake.

I have the fans on and I closed the bedroom doors upstairs, so I hope our rooms will not become uninhabitable. So every little thing is one step closer to getting my project done, my life back and moving on to a new project. What is life without some kind of project?

The Joys of Construction

Or should I say destruction, then construction. The project is well under way. Hence the lack of blog entries. I have been consumed by a new project.

The stairs have officially been turned. And I love, love, love it! I can safely travel up and down them again. I have only fallen down them once. No injuries and no witnesses. There was only one day that I could not use my upstairs. Unfortunately, I needed a towel and all of them were upstairs in the linen closet. So, I had to boost my sweetP up and coax him to go upstairs and get one so we could head to swim lessons. He is my cautious child and didn't enjoy the thought of being a mountain goat. In the end, he did it and seemed quite proud of himself.

So tonight, my work began. I needed to prime the new wall and the inside of the closet. (Side note, a skunk is outside and is highly fragrant. My quandary, close the windows so the paint fumes can't get out or leave them open and let the skunk stink in? I closed them, the skunk stink is definitely worse.) I am the kind of person that believes that if you are going to do something do it right and do your best. So, I paint the insides of closets the same way I paint walls that are viewed daily. I think in two days I will be able to say that the closet is done and move back into it. Yippee. Some garage space back. Then whenever I need encouragement I can gaze at my finished closet and get back to work.

Hi-ho, hi-ho it is off to bed I go.

Upheaval

The planning stage of any project is so exciting. You get to make fun decisions, figure out what you want to do, dream of the end result. No pressure. Then there is the doing of the project. Specifically, a home remodeling project. Decisions must be made and agreed upon and executed. Individual styles must be honored, compromise must be found. Problems avoided or solved. It is just plain hard work to do the project. I love remodeling, but it causes major upheaval in your life. My Ducky does not like remodeling projects. He wants the end result, but would rather avoid the whole mess. We have embarked on upheaval today.

We have been talking about all the things we want to do to this house to make it our own. For years. It was always determined that all the smallish projects hinged on one medium project. No point in working on the smallish projects if we have to go back and redo parts of them later. So there has been a lot of talk and not much action. Until now. Tomorrow, we turn the stairs. And when you turn the stairs you need to paint. And redo the floors. And put in new moulding. And patch up any little oops spots. And then move back in and collapse.

And sometimes you learn that you and your beloved spouse do things really differently. Really, really differently. You've known for a long time that each of you approaches problems from opposite sides and it has worked out okay. But remodeling has a reputation for putting stress on a relationship. I am hoping for a quick and surprise free project. I am ready to sit and enjoy the results.

The Best Thing

Once per day (occasionally more) I get to see the most wonderful sight. Before I go to bed, I go in and kiss my boys. And in the faint light of their nightlights, I get to see their calm, peaceful, cute little faces all relaxed in sleep. It is the very best thing in the whole world. At that moment I cannot love them any more. All the things they may have done that day that were irritating are quickly forgotten and just the warm, fuzzy moments are remembered. I think that is our gift for the hard work of parenting.

There are really fabulous moments during the day too, but you can't relish those in the same way. At night, I can just savor the moment with no interruptions. The rest of the house is asleep and I can just gaze at them like I did when they were really little babies and the world seemed to move at a slower pace. Now that they are older, the days are filled with activities, interactions, a rapid succession of moments. There is little time to just savor a special moment. So those minutes at night are the best thing.

Traffic Signals

I was reminded today of how traffic signals have an uncanny ability to cause grief and distress. They are a wonderful invention. They help traffic move smoothly and decrease the amount of stop and go when getting from point A to point B. But they can sense when you are late or when you really need to reach into the back seat.

The afternoon snuck past me today. All of a sudden it was 3:15 and I should be headed out the door to pick up my sweetP at camp. Instead, I was getting new shorts on my sweetE and trying to find my keys. So while I was not terribly late to get out the door, my cushion of extra time was non-existent. Because I have no extra time, I hit every light red. Somehow they knew that I was running behind and wouldn't I like some time to contemplate that. I did make it to camp and only two minutes late. However, my sweetP was the last camper to be picked up. He didn't seem to mind.

So on my way home I stop and pick up dinner from our all time favorite restaurant. We moved, it didn't, we miss it. I buy the boys a lemonade. It's a hot day and my sweetP has had a really busy day at camp. Back on the road, my sweetE decides to investigate the contents of his cup. He is not known for his great grasp of objects while in the car. Visions of a sticky interior are flashing before my eyes. I pray for a red light so I can get the lid firmly reattached to the cup. Green, as far as the eye can see. My sweetE finally decides to let his brother help him with his drink. I am holding my breath during the transfer, until I am told that the lid is once again securely on the top. Crisis averted.

The traffic lights just know when you want a red or a green and they refuse to cooperate. My sweetP was very understanding. When I apologized for being a little late, he just asked if I was stuck in traffic. What else could I say but yes. He rides with me a lot. I comment on traffic a lot. In the end, it all turned out OK today. I wasn't really late and one lemonade made it home safely in a cup or a tummy. Traffic lights will taunt me another day, but until then, I've got understanding boys.

Life... To Be Continued.

I truly am cursed. If there was a way to keep my personality and get a head transplant I would seriously consider it. The headache from last week is still with me and driving me nuts. Getting knocked unconscious is an option at this point. So until further notice, life is on hold while I just exist.

In the meantime, the boys loved their treasure hunt. Loved the golden treasure box. Loved the Lego guys. Mom was the hero!