Grape Did It

2.28.10

2.27.10

They just don't understand

It wasn't even 6 oclock this morning and already I'd changed a diaper and cleaned up (dog) puke. You don't have to tell me you're jealous, I can see it through the computer and into your eyes. Oh, you didn't realize they had that kind of technology yet? Only in Alabama.

Bud said something like, those are the PUKING-EST dogs I have EVER SEEN! as I ran downstairs to throw the beds in the wash. And I too kind of wonder how we ended up with dogs that puke all the time. In this case though I think it's just because Copper has taken to our compost pile like a stoner at an all-you-can-eat buffet and I picked up an old piece of soft onion off of the living room floor before I'd even realized what had happened.

I'm also rug shopping because, well, YOU KNOW. We don't talk about that story around here anymore.

Speaking of that moronic dog, guess who ran away again yesterday! Yep! And guess who barely cared this time because SOMEBODY keeps PLAYING WOLF? I won't name names COPPER but your ass is grass the next time it happens. Or really I'll just shake my finger at you and say NO! BAD DOG! And you'll roll your eyes and we both know pretty much nothing will change. Sob. Is there human-dog group therapy? Because if so Copper will be all you know ever since that little human dropped into the picture I get, like, MAYBE a head pat or two every day. DUDE! I used to get a nice full body massage DAILY. HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL?

Then he'd run out of the room and slam the door behind him much like Hope circa 1995. Parents. 

2.26.10

Pull out your tiniest violin

I put the baby down for a nap.

I started a small load of blackberry-stained baby laundry. So as not to set. 

I re-made the bed with clean sheets, including the damn duvet which is damn near impossible to line up with the damn comforter inside.

I cleaned up the lunch dishes.

I made the baby bed in our room up with clean sheets.

I called back a friend, left a message.

I jotted down a few things on my To Do.

Feeling pretty much totally excited I warmed up a cup of coffee.

I fetched my laptop.

I grabbed the book I am currently in the middle of ohmyGODCANNOTPUTDOWN.

I sat down, settled into the couch, picked up coffee and reached for book.

I heard baby cry.

And you know the damndest thing? If he weren't so absolutely wonderful, I might have minded.

2.25.10

Bubble Lampshade Project

I stole yet another project here, and as I told Bud about it he was all, yeah, I know what you're talking about, didn't you ever do that in school? No I did not, THANKS A LOT FAIRFAX COUNTY. WHAT ELSE DID I MISS? 

So in an effort to fill in a few school gaps, we worked on the Bubble Lampshade Project this weekend. That and I've been looking for a new light fixture for our eat-in kitchen area. Bonus, the way it looks on the website is super cute so no doubt that's how fashionable our house will be once we're done, right? RIGHT?

Step 1: gather materials. I do not have pictures for this as I don't routinely carry my camera into WalMart. That though is where we found the yarn (all cotton, ended up needing two spools? Blobs? Because they were the small...spool/blobs) and balloon (we had to get one of those large balloons with the rubber band on the end because the birthday party variety were too small. Yeah. The kind you whap into your siblings faces until your mother threatens to PULL THIS MINIVAN OVER RIGHT HERE IN FRONT OF THE HIGH SCHOOL.) We got the wallpaper glue and light/cord set at Lowe's.

Right. Step 2:

Inflate balloon until dizzy. No joke. I sat there panting and asking Bud how come during the Just Say No campaign no one ever warned us to just say no to blowing up really big balloons because WOW is this room spinning OR WHAT?

Once recovered, hang the balloon in a place you don't mind getting glue-y. Um, I'll digress a minute. The glue, looked like...um well I don't want to use the word but let's just say in vernacular it rhymes with ms. and it gets EVERYWHERE.

Step 3:

We chose to spray paint the ugly brass pieces of the light fixture a white, since the brass was super ugly and stuff.

Step 4:

Lube the balloon up with Vaseline I kid you not. This is to prevent the balloon and string from sticking to one another upon poppage. It is also so you can watch your husband rub Vaseline on a balloon and say things that aren't the least bit funny like, Do I need to get jealous of this balloon?

Step 5:

Argue over whether string should be unraveled before dunking into glue mixture, or just plopped in there as-is. We began with unraveling but quickly realized THE DIRECTIONS WERE CORRECT and plopping entire yarn ball into glue bucket made more sense. I squatted on the ground and fed the yarn to Bud while he wrapped it around the balloon. That way it didn't get tangled and I could make sure the pieces were good and sopping.

Step 6:

Wind the string around the balloon for, like, ever. I let Bud do this part because he is much better at things like patience and seeing where there is a blank spot. Also, pretty much everything handy.

Step 7:

Put baby in ghetto-makeshift playpen. Throw in a few non toxic items for amusement. Re-think the whole damn idea when baby nearly tips himself out.

Step 8:

Let the whole thing dry for also, like, ever. I don't have a picture of the drying, but clearly you do not want to pop the balloon before it has solidified. Ours took from Saturday evening to Tuesday night and even then there was a little dampness. But it worked out.

Step 9:

Go to bed really early on account of baby's schedule only to wake up to Surprise! Handy husband hangs hampshade. Okay whatever I wanted it to alliterate. 

I'd show you an entire picture of the room but it's so not finished so you'll just have to imagine a really cool, trendy-but-tasteful space. Of someone else's house.

2.24.10

You just wish you lived here

We're not sleeping much around here these days. I mean, even less than usual, and it has caused a general hand-wringing on my part. SOMETHING NEW. Searching out advice and then rejecting it in favor of my "instincts", whatever they are. But I felt reassured yesterday morning when I reached into Truett's mouth and felt two little hard nuggets making their way through his top gums. Ahh, Grasshopper. This is why I do not sleep anymore.

Then just today I glanced down at my open mouthed baby and saw the distinct little bubble popping up next to his two teeth on the bottom. So. "We" are cutting THREE teeth, and I say we because Truett is taking us all along for the ride. 

Whee. Much like a roller coaster except replace "thrill" with "bleary eyes" and "shrieks of delight" with "fortheloveofGODTHEBABYISUPAGAINDOESHEEVERSLEEP?"

2.23.10