Where Has the Time Gone?

I've had the best of intentions. I promise.

I love(d) my blog. And, more importantly, I've missed my blog. I miss reliving all the moments of life in my family and learning to see the share-worthy aspects.

I've fallen into the quick-and-easy world of instagram and (I shudder to admit it) Facebook. (Ewww)

I accidentally clicked on the link and saw my boy's little kindergarten face staring back at me…and I realized that I've really let something go that I shouldn't have. So, this new years resolution is being made a month and a half ahead of time. Why? Well, because let's be honest here…it's going to take me AT LEAST that long to make it happen.

I resolve to embrace my blog once again. To help myself remember the wonderful, horrifying, crazy, unbearable, unbelievable, terribly perfect parts of my life and family.

So…here goes.

Goal: Blog 2015

See you soon!

Christmas Break: Day 26

It's been 26 days since I was able to send all three of my children off to school. I'm thinking that's the longest Christmas Break in the record books.

Whatever virus hit us...well, it's the Christmas gift that keeps on giving.

Of course, odds are that you're right there with me. Am I right?

Stupid germs.

The New House: Take Two

WARNING:

This post contains disturbing images. I wouldn't recommend reading while eating,

right before eating, or right after eating. Or if you plan on eating ever again. If you have food or beverage items in hand...back away! Seriously.

It's been a rough month, folks. Quite a doozie, in fact. Looking back I must admit that I'm surprised I made it. Literally. I was sure that either my mental or physical status would be far beyond repair...and yet, here I am. Phew! (Though I suppose some may still question the mental status...)

After moving into the new house, unpacking all our crap, and starting to settle in we became aware of an odd smell. It was small at first. Then, like the Grinch' s teeny-tiny heart, it grew, and grew, and GREW! It was the worst in Curtis' room. We decided it must be the carpet. So, like any normal person would do, we had the carpet cleaned. And that, my friends, was a mistake. (Or a good thing. I haven't decided yet.)

The moment the hot steamy water found it's way into the fibers of that carpet...it let loose a host of evil like nothing I've ever encountered before. We couldn't even walk into the room, it was SOOOO bad. Armed with rubber gloves and a vow to breath only through my nose I walked to the corner and started tearing the carpet back...and was witness to the most disgusting display of animal filth I've ever witnessed. Wait for it....

Yes. Apparently the house was used as a litter box for some very large, very naughty, animals.

E V E R Y W H E R E.

Needless to say, I wept.

Then I may, or may not, have used some inappropriate language.

We started by talking to a restoration company that does heavy-duty cleaning. He said he could clean it...but couldn't guarantee the smell wouldn't come back. Then I called my new friend, Larry. Larry the Carpet Dude. For a whole bunch of money we could simply replace the carpet. (A whole bunch of money.)

Ian clinched the decision by asking me, "If we went ahead and got it cleaned, would you ever feel comfortable enough to go ahead and lay down with your face on the floor?"

NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

So, we chose new carpet and padding. The plan was this: we would save ourselves a little money and rip out all the carpet ourselves. This would give us time to bleach the subfloor then paint over the stains with a nice layer of Kilz. (Kilz happens to be the brand responsible for helping me get rid of the Sharpie disaster in Curtis' room last year...we're familiar with it's goodness). We also decided that since we would have the carpet up...what a GREAT time to paint the walls and ceilings! (Both the walls and ceilings were a color I wasn't necessarily a fan of to begin with.)

So, we bid farewell to our yard budget and dove head-first into ripping up the putrid pile of nastiness. I am sure I said things I shouldn't have during this particular process. (Ivana will attest to that...though her presence probably prevented me from saying more ghastly things.)

This 2 week process (mostly done while Ian was out of town) looked a little something like this:

Play Room

The white is the Kilz...applied to (hopefully) lock away odor from the "accidents" that went through both carpet and padding--and rusted the nails to boot.

 Master Bedroom

Ellie's Room 

The Boy's Room 

The Loft 

The Stairs (no joke)

Then, if you can believe it...we found MOLD! No...not surprised.

The Family Room

Done one-half at a time...they had replaced the carpet (so we were able to save it) but they hadn't replaced the nasty padding. That was a tricky part. Not to mention painting those big stinking peaked ceilings!! 

 The Kitchen from the Family Room

This was how most everything looked. CHAOS!

Master Bedroom -- getting new carpet/padding= sigh of relief.

We completed this whirlwind project literally minutes before my book group showed up at my house. Minutes. I'm not kidding.

(And when I say "completed" I actually mean "as much as I'm going to do until I forget the awfulness of it all". There are still 2 bathrooms, 2 closets, and a laundry room to paint. Ugh.)

Dining / Family Rooms Grand Reveal

I am grateful for our new home. This move has been an adjustment...for more reasons than I could mention here...but, I know we're supposed to be here. That knowledge has helped me through this recent trauma, as well as other moments of doubt. So, I'm grateful. Grateful for what I do have. Grateful for kids who put up with the insanity as well as they did. Grateful that we were able to get clean (another sigh of relief) carpet. Grateful for friends who helped/did most of the work. Grateful for those who supported us (me). Grateful.

(And I'll keep reminding myself of that every time I see those "before" pictures.)

Defining My Mood

Damage to my van (a.k.a. my Swagger Wagon):

neg•li•gi•ble /'neglijəbəl/

Adjective: So small or unimportant as to be not worth considering; insignificant.

Damage to the other guy's brand new Yukon:

sig•ni•fi•cant /sigˈnifikənt/

Adjective: Sufficiently great or important to be worthy of attention; noteworthy.

Damage to my otherwise wonderful Friday (not to mention my insurance):

pro•found /prəˈfound/

Adjective: (of a state, quality, or emotion) Very great or intense.

Slacking

Yup. I'm a little bit behind in my blogging. Okay...a LOT behind in my blogging.

I'm working on it, alright?! Sheesh!

Maturity and My Couch

***WARNING***

If you have a sensitive gag-reflex you may want to skip this post.

I discovered something about myself tonight. I think I have finally grown up. (I'm sure I ought to have been influenced by my age long before now...but I haven't, and what's done is done, right?)

Earlier today I sat on the couch watching a movie with Curtis cuddled up, oh-so-sweetly, on my lap. I glanced down and noticed that he had drifted off to sleep. I was about to mention to Ian that I didn't think our little boy was feeling well when, lo-and-behold, he jerked awake and began to...how shall I say it? Puke? Ralph? Spew? Hurl? Blow chunks? Well...he began to lose his lunch. And his breakfast. (And perhaps some internal organs...I can't be sure.) I quickly yelled at Ian to grab a towel while I strategically positioned myself between the forthcoming offense and my couch.

That's right...I allowed myself to be completely saturated in unmentionable disgustingness in order to protect my sofa from a defilement it never would have recovered from. A younger version of myself would most likely have run, screaming, in order to be as far away from the mess as possible. But the 37 year-ol Amy knew that a couch covered in that much wretchedness would need to be replaced...and it's just not in the budget for January 2011. If that doesn't demonstrate some frugality and responsibility, I don't know what does.

Hello adulthood...it's nice to meet you.

If You're Wondering Where We've Been

(Picture courtesy of Lindy)

Dear Tooth Fairy,

Yesterday began like any other day. We woke up, we got ready...you know, the same old boring stuff. When Lindy arrived home from school minus one pesky little front tooth, however, the day suddenly had possibility. We knew that a visit from you would brighten things up. When bedtime finally arrived Lindy excitedly placed her tooth under her pillow and promptly fell asleep. We all fell asleep. All of us. Every person here. Adults and children alike.

You can imagine her disappointment when she woke up bright and early this morning to find the tooth still tucked snuggly under her pillow.

We can only assume that you had a busy night and were simply unable to make it to all the tooth-bearing pillows in the neighborhood...or that there was some sort of tooth emergency somewhere else. Out of state. Perhaps there were delays with your flight? Anyhow...we hope you have not suffered any debilitating memory loss (do you have kids?) or are experiencing troubles in the workplace.

In the hopes that you will be able to return tonight and take care of your responsibilities, Lindy will happily place her tooth back in the proper place. We look forward to your visit and wish you well.

Sincerely,

The Jones Family

I Should Treat Them Better

First, a disclaimer: I don't want anyone to panic or feel like I'm all in a lather over here. I'm not. I'm perfectly balanced and happy with life. Pinky promise.

The other day I started turning my house upside down looking for a book. A particular book. And so far I've been unable to find it. The only conclusion I've arrived at is that I've lent it out to someone. I do that. I enjoy doing that. I've said, and I'll continue to say, "the Amy Jones library welcomes you!" My only problem is I'm a horrible librarian. I love my books but I'm not sure I take adequate care of their well-being. I have sent them out into the world to circulate but I haven't necessarily taken steps to ensure their safe return.

This librarian is, therefore, turning over a new leaf. This morning I purchased a lovely little book whose sole purpose will be record-keeping. Call it my little black book of books (though, by choice, it is not black). My goal is to write down the location of all my beloved tomes.

That being said: I'm hereby requesting information. Not books--yet--just information. If you have one (or more) books from the Amy Jones library, please comment and let me know what you have. I'll record the information and we'll be set.

I really do, however, want to find this one:

If you have it...and aren't in the middle of it...can I beg it back?