Wednesday, November 26

kids and closets, and thanks

I've painted myself into quite a corner. My MIL has the older two kids right now. (WOOHOO!!!) I met her in Hempstead on Monday at lunch time to drop them off, and they'll be with her until Thursday, when she's coming out to my mom's for Thanksgiving, obviously bringing Sam and Evie with her.

I had all kinds of lovely things planned for myself when the older two were gone. Playing with David. Watching Friends educational documentaries. Watching House and Bones more educational documentaries. Weeding my gardens. Going over to Kristie's, letting David play while we make toffee and drink coffee and talk a lot. Get lots of work done for Glimpse and XanGo. Reading some books. Hang out with my awesome and cute and funny and sarcastic husband. Have a beer.

And clean out my closet. It's bad, people. It's really, really bad.

So yesterday I started cleaning out my closet, looking forward to getting everything sorted, folded, and put away so I could go over to Kristie's today and drink coffee. I love coffee. Anywho, I started cleaning. And sorting. And folding. And decided to take out the bottom shelf in my built-in in the closet.

{I'm going to have to digress here for a second. THE CLOSETS IN THE MASTER BEDROOM ARE VERY, VERY STUPID IN THIS HOUSE. The built-ins are on the wrong sides of the closet, the doors are angled so it's really difficult to get in, they're skinny and long and, well, stupid. They've been on my to-do list for a long time now: to get in there, tear everything out, paint, and start all over. With a design that isn't stupid.}

Now you know. So I grabbed my hammer. I started taking out the shelf. I realized I also needed the drill, so I ran to get that one, too. This whole time, John had been upstairs with David playing trains, David's latest obsession. John eventually got a little worried about all the banging and drilling and ran downstairs to check on me. He tried to walk into the bathroom (but couldn't because of the mountain of clothes and shoes blocking his path), and settled for talking to me from the door. He had a slightly frightened look in his eyes.

'Um, honey, whatcha doing?'

'John, aren't you glad you didn't marry a girl who's afraid to use a hammer or power tools?'

'Right now I'm a little afraid of you. What are you up to?'

'John, you don't need to be afraid of me. My daddy taught me well. I know what I'm doing.'

'Which is what, exactly?'

'I'm just taking a shelf out of the closet so I can move these storage containers out of my way and have more room for my shoes.'

'About that. Why do you have so many pair of shoes? You only wear 3 pair. Ever.'

'John, a lady has to keep her options open. And shut up. You will not mock my shoes!'

At this point, John worked his way over to my closet and checked what I was doing. He was impressed, because I was doing it the right way and not tearing anything else apart. (Seriously. I love power tools, and I know how to use them correctly. Thanks, Dad!) But then he pulled a John. He started saying things like, 'Oh, we could move the clothes bar over here' and 'We could pull this whole thing out and get new shelving and it'd be much better organized' and 'blah, blah, blah.' I should have known better than to listen to him, and start a mini-remodel project less than two days before Thanksgiving, but nooooo. He conned me with his sweet talk of easy organization, and I fell for it.

Peeps, my bathroom looks like something exploded. And it doesn't even have clothes in it anymore!!! I completely pulled out the built-in. The hanging bars. All the random hardware. I've sanded and patched and sanded and inhaled about three pounds of sheet rock in dust form. I have to very quickly paint today so hubs can put in the new shelves and bars. I'm assuming it'll require at least two trips to Home Depot, if not three or four.

And yes, I'll be very happy about it in the long run, because this is something I've been begging John to help me with since we moved to this house three years ago. But all I wanted to do was play trains with David and drink coffee with Kristie and maybe weed in the garden a little.

On that note, I'd like to tell you a few things for which I'm thankful, before I have to start sanding and painting and hammering things again:

*A husband who helps me and supports me in crazy projects.
*A dad who saw far enough passed the blond curls to teach me how to use a hammer when I was 5.
*My mom, who is hosting what will be a wonderful Thanksgiving this year.
*My MIL, for giving me a few few days off so I can get my partner-in-crime to help me destroy things while David watches from the doorway saying, 'BOOM!' a lot.
*This amazing country I live in. It may not be perfect, but I love it, and can't think of any place better to live.
*My husband's job, which doesn't take him out of town, on the road, under heavy moving equipment, into burning buildings, out to the Bering Sea, or into the line of fire. (I'll talk more about this in a few months.)
*My wonderful extended family of friends, including but not limited to: Sarah, Kristie, Margaret, Jessica at Farm Fresh (I really hope I can meet you one day IRL, girl!), Tana, my awesome book club ladies, and all the lovely women at my church.
*Some really brave Europeans generations back, being persecuted for their beliefs, who had the courage to get on those ships and head towards New England. And for all those who kept coming over, even after reports of those first few winters mads in back across the Atlantic.
*A personal Savior that I can truly call Brother and Friend.

Big hugs and Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!!!!!!!!!

ps-have you ever had something stamped with the Nazi Eagle in your hand? I've got a cool story for you on Friday ...


Amy E said...

Brea - I was actually given a white dinner plate when I worked at a local military base that had the Nazi Eagle on the back, apparently it was part of an officer's mess set. Very strange and eerie, as my great grandmother came to the U.S. from Germany. She was German, not Jewish, but was part of Hitler's Baby Making Camps to get a lot of blonde/blue eyed children going. I ended up giving it to a lady who collected the stuff, but again very strange to see it.

Lori said...

happy thanksgiving! :^)

i have my own drill and toolbox. ;^)