Monday, January 31, 2011
But this has nothing to do with that. Trouble is a-brewing in a whole other way.
It started two years ago when C.C. broke one of the living room lamps. She was small and could scamper behind the end table and couch - her getaway when stealing socks. One day she got tangled in the cord and down went the lamp. I've been searching for new ones ever since.
There's a lot of lamps out there. Trust me, I know first-hand. I've checked out every possible online retailer and store in the area. Multiple times. Lots of great lamps, but none that matched our furniture. Except for THE ONE. It was beautiful, a piece of art really. It would have been perfect. But Big Dog said no. Something about the $1,200 price tag.
Other than that, there are no lamps in existence that match our 17-year-old house and furniture. Everything is dark these days, but our house is still medium oak. I finally bit the bullet and bought something new. I'm tired of not being able to see after 5 p.m. I like the style, but these new lamps are dark and look weird on our end tables.
You know where this is going, don't you? We'll eventually have to buy new end tables to match the lamps, then a new couch and love seat to match the tables, then a new TV stand and a chair to match the rest. And the new TV stand will need a new TV, of course. Because our living room opens to the kitchen, a new table and refacing the kitchen cabinets won't be far behind. It will never end.
I have seen the face of evil and its name is redecorating.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
I did sweet talk Riley into watching HGTV with me. Someday, when he is able to color coordinate a room, his wife is going to thank me. The kids and I are hooked on House Hunters. LOVE that show. But it blows my mind that people have so much money to spend. Makes me jealous. I want to be rich, too.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
I never thought I'd buy this style, but the aches and pains of advancing age have moved comfort to the top of the list. Along with heating pads, ibuprofen, and bifocals.
I'm planning to break them out during my Grand Canyon trip and then wear them all summer long. With luck, the nerve between the toes on my right foot will recognize I'm wearing quality and cut me some slack. I'll let you know how it goes.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
What are we supposed to do on Friday nights now that you've cancelled our favorite show? Carly and I looked forward to Medium every week. You may not have had a lot of viewers, but you had us. Didn't anyone ever teach you it's not nice to make little girls cry?
I chose to do nothing, even though the mama bear in me wanted to rumble. He is my baby after all. But I know this kid really well. And one of the things he has to learn (hopefully someday, please God) is to talk less and listen more. I saw enough to know he wasn't listening, he was too busy arguing.
That kid came out of the womb arguing. It's obviously part of his genetic makeup. He has always believed he knows more than me and you and everyone else. It's an attitude that can send teachers and coaches and sisters and occasionally (!) parents over the edge.
I just wish he could figure that out.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
I had a good laugh today reading Riley's semester report card online. One of the comments was, "Is a pleasure to have in class." From a teacher who called me a while back to tell me specifically he was not a pleasure to have in class. I'm guessing she selected the same comment for everyone. Of course, he could be shaping up. Or wearing a fake mustache and glasses to class. I'll have to ask him which one he thinks it is.
I spent the afternoon trying to go around the block with the new Garmin GPS we received for Christmas. I'm still lost. One of the kids is going to have to show us how it works. And what is the deal with having to print your own user's manual? 32 sheets of 8.5" x 11" paper won't store in the glove box as nicely as a booklet. Hello manufacturers? Isn't that sort of obvious? And how about an ovary finder ap for those of us who need it? That's me, always the idea person.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
I went for a pelvic ultrasound this morning. And yes, it was as much fun as it sounds. But I digress. Turns out I'm missing an ovary. It used to be there. But today it didn't show up for our appointment. No cancellation notice. No vacation request. No Dear John letter. Just AWOL.
Hello? National Hotline for Missing Ovaries? I need to report an ovary-knapping.
Where does an ovary go when it gets tired of hanging out with its friends uterus and fallopian tube? Does it hook up with the bladder hoping to score a trip to the outside? Frankly, it's like being blindsided by a high school breakup. I would have changed if only I'd known it was unhappy.
I have no idea what the implications of being down an ovary are. I hope the treatment regime includes Klondike bars and a margarita or two. Stay tuned.