1 day ago
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
RTT: DIY PITA
In honor of it being almost back to school time, I am jumping into the Random Tuesday Soup with some alphabet jazz. "DIY" refers to my home redecorating projects and is self-explanatory. And "PITA" is not all about bread, it describes aspects of the home projects that are chafing my butt.
So AWAYYYY we go!
When the bottle of wallpaper paste removal goo says "use in a well-ventilated area and wear a mask", they're not lyin'. Just because you can't smell anything right away does not mean the chemicals aren't potent enought to EAT YOUR BRAINS like a rabid zombie.
Taping up before painting is a pain. No matter how carefully I get the tape edge down it always leaks. Plus all the dust bunnies that cling to the tape show off what a rotten housekeeper I am.
Since Daddy is the one who does the actual painting he gets the best hugs and kisses and all the praise for how good the room looks. All I did was plan the re-do, look for wallpaper border, strip the old wallpaper, force the kids to go through piles of old junk they've hoarded so we can rearrange things, shop for new bedding and push to get the project underway.
It's amazing how much an old black hair elastic with some fuzz on it can look like an enormous black spider. Especially if you're vacuuming under the dresser and it's pulled toward you quickly by a long piece of hair. It's equally amazing how a simple mom with no musical talent can sound like a diva soprano in an opera when faced with what appears to be a huge spider zooming toward her feet...
Why is it that a kid can see the same toy in the corner of their room for six months, totally uninterested in it, but the minute I THINK of taking it to the consignment store it becomes their new favorite, can't-live-without-it, drop-dead-if-anything-happened-to-it possession? How do they KNOW?!
And last, but not least, how is it that people who have had six years to visit us and see how we're doing in our new place suddenly want to come NOW, when we have a big ol' tore-up mess from one end of the hall to the other and me looking like the dog's dinner all day long? And Lord help me it's some good-looking woman S.P. knows from high school, or college. Why couldn't she have showed up here when things were put together, before I cut off my hair and gained fifteen pounds? Oh Lord, forget my house...I need a remodel....