I tell you all this because, after 16 looooong years, I am finally undoing some of their handiwork–in the builders case, undoing mistakes–in a serious facelift of my kitchen. It’s not a full on reno, but it’s just disruptive enough to make me a little ornery. As I type, I am ovenless and pantry free. If you’ve ever remodeled your kitchen while living in your house, I feel your pain. This is my umpteenth time. You’d think I would learn.
Here’s a peek at what I’m up to:
In other news, it looks like my backyard getaway may be a haven for disease carrying skeeters. I took Hubs to the ER last night. He’s been sick for three weeks. His doctor put him on three different antibiotics along the way and pumped his bum with steroids, but he kept getting worse, so they sent him to the hospital. I think his official diagnosis is West Rocky Dengue Malaria Spotted Nile Mountain Fever.
On a serious note: I suggest liberal use of repellant if you’re heading outside, as West Nile is now confirmed in 38 states and he feels like he’s been hit by a bus after being run over by a dump truck. He looks like it, too. I feel really sorry for him, but I don’t have time to feel sorry for you, so if you suffer any bites, please monitor yourself or your children for symptoms. Children, older adults and people with compromised immune systems are the most susceptible. This shizz is for real, and the CDC says it’s going to be around for at least another month, so be sure to spray yourselves down with something non-toxic before you head outside.
Back to better news…Remember meeting this little fellow?
Did I mention that he’s not quite 9 months old? Yep. He’s going to be a big guy one day. I saw him come into this world–now I know exactly where babies come from, and I’m pretty sure there’s no way he can fit back in there, so I guess we’ll have to keep him.
As for his big brother, he’s too smart for his own good and he has a fabulous sense of humor. He’s probably going to be a great husband and father some day, if I let him grow up. I’m doing everything I can to prevent it, but, this week, he wants to be a scientist and we need more of those, so I’ll let him grow a little.
Ba, ha, ha, ha!
They moved to a small town out in the country over a year ago and I miss having them nearby. (See if you can get them to move closer to home.) I don’t know how my daughter does it. The baby is fast and fearless; the big one needs a college tutor, now.
Foursie: Why is the word “ment” in excitement?
Yeah, I had nada. I need two days to recover for every one they spend with me, and I adore them!
If memory serves, at some point in my life I had three kids under the age of three. Yep. I just checked. Turns out to be true. My disease riddled husband worked 100 hours a week during that time. I don’t know how I did it, either. “Mother” is the hardest job in the world, hands down. You are raising human beings, after all. I do know I cried a lot that year.
In my defense, I gave birth to premature twins a few weeks before my oldest daughter’s third birthday. They were still so tiny when they came home from the NICU, that preemie clothes swallowed them whole. The big bad world was filled with germs that were too dangerous for their fragile immune systems, so I wasn’t able to get out much.
Except for this: When they were about 9 or 10 weeks old, Hubs and I went on our first post-traumatic-baby-birth weekend overnight getaway. We lived about 30 miles out of town. We made hotel reservations and drove to the big city for a
romantic evening college basketball game and dinner. We got caught in an unexpected snow and ice storm as temperatures plummeted to -17º. Our car broke down on a railroad track, natch, and we were stranded in a dicey part of town. After we pushed the car off the rails, we had to walk in the blizzard to find a pay phone to call for help. The only place open within a mile was an adult bookstore/beer market. They still had customers.
They graciously let us use their phone. (Lysol!!!) While Hubs called for help, I tried really hard not to be the only-dressed-up-for-a-night-out-20-something-girl-in-a-room-full-of-men-reading-porn that I was. Let’s just say, I was very uncomfortable. We finally found someone who could get us to my parents house, where we camped out for three days. My tiny twins and energetic three year old were safe and sound at the in-laws, so we were able to relax and have fun despite being stranded. When the ice finally thawed and the roads were reopened, we gathered up the kids and headed home.
As we turned the knob on the kitchen door, we heard the sound of running water. Think Niagara Falls, but with carpet. The pipes to our water heater burst while we were gone, and the water had been pouring into the house for we don’t know how long. We do know that we had an 8-10 inch deep indoor swimming pool that, by coincidence, happened to be exactly the same square footage as our house. We moved into a
hotel motel for two months. Its only saving grace was a very large, round bathtub that I’d convinced Threesie was really an indoor swimming pool. I think it’s where she learned the backstroke.
Anyway, that was my first experience with remodeling a house. Here’s hoping this time, things go a little more smoothly.