How you doin?

So we're sleeping in the dining room on an air mattress.

A few weeks ago Greg pulled me into a warm embrace, locked eyes with me lovingly and said "Baby, we're going to get the bedroom renovations done in time for your birthday".

I don't know what it is about my birthday that lights a fire under my husband's tuchus, but, whatever drives the compulsion, it must be slowing down. I say this because the first time he decided to Renovate something for my birthday (Yes, with a capital R) he surprised me with a visit from both of our families, tons of lumber and a completely demolished bathroom.


Isn't that sweet? Nothing says "I love you" like your only working toilet in a room with no doors and a distinct lack of walls while hosting 10 other people.

Of course I'm thrilled with the eventual result, but I think I pounded the message home that he should consult me in the future before arbitrarily deciding that NOW is the time to rip apart a well-used room in our household.

The bedroom has been bugging me for a while, and we did decide to work on it - to make it our next project. But my birthday is in two weeks and for some reason, Greg sees that as a reasonable deadline for completion.

This is our bed. It was a generous gift from an Aunt and Uncle. It is antique. And beautiful. And small.


It is a full sized bed, and I'm positive that if I'm pregnant and still sleeping in this bed, Greg will not fit. Our end tables are mismatched. Our lamps are mismatched. Our walls have holes in them - holes from real construction work from the bathroom, holes around the door where there should be a door frame, and holes from a badly conceived idea for bedroom decor.


This is not nearly as bad as how our bedroom normally looks. We have no closet doors. Recently we've had 4 litter boxes and the cat's food and water (and the cats) residing in our bedroom so that they are all dog-proof. Consequently, my closet has started to smell like kitty litter and I am less and less fond of it.

Our closet probably used to be a nursery because it has a window to the outside and it used to have a door to the hallway. We closed up that doorway when we expanded our bathroom, so now it works as a great walk in closet. We need to seriously cull what's in there - which I am proud to say I have started... but it is by far not finished.

Also - that big hunky mirror thing... That's history. We took it up to the attic to maintain the full set of furniture, but it looms into the room like a big hulking mass and I'm glad we've retired it. We're going to spackle, sand, spackle, sand, paint, paint, paint, paint, replace the endtables, the lights, move furniture, and put up new curtains.

This room WILL bend to my will like all the others. It's just a matter of time.

And apparently it must be done in two weeks.

In the mean time, we are sleeping in the pretty teal dining room, the dog's mad because he has to be put in the crate at night, and the cats are mad because they've been unceremoniously kicked out of the bedroom.

By all accounts this should be a fairly simple project. There's a little extra pressure because we also want to replace the carpet in the bedroom and the hallway and the staircase and our walkin closet, and if we can manage it - get some linoleum in the kitchen that doesn't have holes in it. There happens to be a sale going on right now where you can buy one room of flooring and get two rooms free. Sounds pretty darn good to me. Unfortunately, I can not in good conscience have new flooring put in until all the painting is DONE - and the hallway is so far from being done, it's laughable. Greg thinks he may be able to get that done in time, too. I wonder if he'll maintain that optimism when he finds out the sale ends on June 7th.

We'll see if it gets done. Despite the announcement that the bedroom will be done by my birthday, Greg didn't get serious about starting this project until 2 days ago. His lack of follow through was ticking me off, and eventually I told him so. I mean, he makes this sweeping pronouncement with a concrete short term deadline, and then spends the first week cuddling me on the couch every night to the tune of Bones and Jon & Kate plus 8.

What a jerk.

I'm sure I'll walk you through the whole thing eventually, if we get out alive.

I'll see you on the other side.