#tuesday (but also #sunday nearly two years later*)

It’s Tuesday.

With how often we talk these days, I almost never have anything new to tell him – I guess that’s a good thing. Even if that means that we sit in silence sometimes. Besides, I share a lot of things on Facebook and he’s always quick to react.

He ate a slider for dinner tonight – per his finally-unrestricted-diet request. I twisted his orange soda open and made sure his straw was in it.

We watched The Valachi Papers and talked about the only two books he’s ever read that he couldn’t put down. I guess he wasn’t very much the read-for-pleasure type. Now that I know that, I like to think that’s where I get it from.

It’s funny – I’ve heard so many of his stories enough times that I can almost recite them.

But these were new.

He joked that we thought a lot alike and any time he was searching for a word that didn’t come to mind, he would point to me and yell “Well, c’mon! What am I thinking?”

I really only managed to figure out the word a couple of times, but we laughed and he feigned being super impressed.

I propped my oldest daughter’s basketball picture up against one of the few frames he had on the shelves at the foot of his bed and we talked about how he liked the place. I could tell that ‘like’ was too strong a word, but they treated him well and that was good enough for both of us. Mostly me.

I hate to leave, but visiting hours are up. I’ll call tomorrow.

*I’ve just really been missing my Grandpa and this was something I jotted down in the car after my last visit with him back in April of 2019.

the last straw

I recently read that it takes 200 years for a plastic straw to break down, so – while I don’t use very many straws to begin with – I’ve decided to go without using the lid/straw combo that basically every fast food joint has available.

It really ain’t no thing (we rarely grab fast food, anyway) and straws are just a tiny drop in the bucket of my contribution to landfills – something I kinda care about because I’m one of “those” people. I know.

My husband – bless his heart – thinks that I’m being “over the top” and has jokingly referred to me as Bill Nye on more than one occasion, but it’s like, the joke is on you – that dude is the bomb dot com.

Anyway.

We grabbed Taco Bell the other day because Cheesy Gordita Crunches are a thing I can’t/won’t quit and when I brought my refill of Mountain Dew into the car, my husband was mumbling something about how my “carbon footprint is nothing compared to the sticky footprint you’d leave in here if your pop spills everywhere.”

Naturally, I was all, “WELL MAYBE YOU SHOULD PUT A LID ON IT.”

…

I wasn’t talking about my soda, FYI. [grimace emoji]

#squatchallenge #ugh

I first fell in love with clawfoot tubs when I was a kid and we lived in this old house in the city – I was only 8, but I think my soul must have been somewhere around 80.

Fast forward 20+ years and my husband and I bought our own old house in the city – it, too, came with a clawfoot tub and was one of the things that sold me on this place. My husband, on the other hand, has complained about it from day one. He’s of the mindset that “no one takes baths anymore” [eye roll] even though babies do and moms who just want to relax for a few fricken’ minutes absolutely do.

Heh.

And so, up to this point, going back and forth about how timeless and classic and romantic I think the tub is and how big and dumb and old he thinks the tub is, seemed to just kinda be our thing.

Anyway.

This afternoon, I jokingly huffed and puffed “OKAY, YOU CAN GET RID OF THE CLAWFOOT TUB,” because I’m on day whatever of this stupid ‘squat challenge’ that I hate myself for deciding to do and climbing into that thing for a shower today felt like climbing Everest.

In regards to the squat challenge, though, it’s like, the tub isn’t the only big/dumb/old thing around here, am I right?

Don’t answer that.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

A few years into blogging/social media, I joined a site that tracked your “influence.”

I mostly talked about the same stuff I always have/always will talk about (e.g. motherhood, Star Wars, etc.,) but the top two categories that I was listed as ‘most influential’ in were Keanu Reeves and facial hair.

Okay, so I talked a little about Keanu Reeves and his facial hair, but I mean, c’mon.

[heart eyes forever]

Anyway.

I dunno who was influenced by anything I said because my very own husband ditched his ruggedly handsome beard the other day – proof that you shouldn’t believe everything you read on the internet. But to let you guys know how extra I am, as he was in the bathroom shaving/hiding from me/laughing, I asked through the door “WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE PHYSICAL FEATURE OF MINE? WHATEVER IT IS, I’M GETTING RID OF IT.”

Heh.

(I’m not getting rid of anything, but a good healthy fear is important in a marriage.)

udderly ridiculous and i don’t care

For a brief stint, after my oldest was born, I went back to work part-time-ish.

Since I was breastfeeding, I packed up my pump every day and did my thing in the “quiet room,” following the advice of my lactation consultant and all the websites that said to bring along a photo (or video) of your baby to help with the milk flow.

I think it worked – I mean, I came home with bottles of milk and I guess that was really the whole point.

Fast forward 11+ years and I’m home (and, obviously, very done with the breastfeeding days). I’ve had a few part-time jobs here and there, but the majority of my time has been spent at home, doing the home-schooling thing, and spending my days surrounded by my most favorite people – I’m literally living the life.

It comes with it’s fair share of cons of course, but 100% of those cons are money related, because living on one income is a struggle – one I have and will gladly endure for all the pros.

But in an effort to make a financial contribution before this last Christmas, I joined a few work-at-home sites and nearly funded our entire Christmas after just 2 months. 2 months of staying at home and doing the home-school thing, still surrounded by my favorite people. I just used the time that I would normally refresh my Facebook feed to find literally nothing new, to watch some videos and answer some questions and make a few bucks.

All of that to say this:

Yesterday, my husband and I went to look at/price things for the kitchen remodel that I want/need and I knew that I wanted a farmhouse, apron front sink. Husband is mostly okay with whatever I choose because he trusts my taste (I picked him, after all [eye-roll]).

But when I picked the solid copper farmhouse, apron front sink – the one with the heftiest price tag in all the land of sinks, he was all “OKAY, NO, YOU HAVE TO BE REALISTIC.”

I gently reminded him that I’m one of the most realistic people of all time – hence my melancholy disposition. But today, I’m sitting in front of my computer – watching videos and answering questions, with the printout of my fancy copper sink propped up near my monitor because I will get the sink of my dreams.

DO YOUR THING, MILK.

i’m the real fixer upper.

If you’re friends with me on Facebook, you know that I’ve been watching a lot of Fixer Upper. Turns out, I found the show just in time for them to be announcing their last season, so thank the good lord for reruns. (Why yes, I do live under a rock, thank you.)

Anyway, I awoke this morning to frozen pipes in the kitchen – the kitchen that I’m DYING to shiplap remodel – and to let you know where I’m at with the whole thing, I nonchalantly called my husband to fill him in on the news/not-really-news, while I filled my coffee pot in the bathroom and thought to myself “this could be it – if the pipes burst (again) and the whole place floods (again) I might actually get my kitchen remodel…!”

The pipes did not burst, so kind of a good news/bad news there.

But, as you know, remodels take money. And time. And more money. And we have very little of the money and come spring, we’ll have very little of the time either because sports. So husband is kinda, sorta rolling his eyes at me, but I’m determined. (And also very used to the eye-rolling because 11+ years of marriage.)

However, he is humoring me and is willing to go “look and get prices,” so I took measurements of our kitchen and a panoramic picture for reference.

“Doesn’t this panoramic make our kitchen look like crap…?”

“Huh? I thought it looked nice.”

“You and I have different standards, I think. Like, you always tell me that I look nice, but [barf emoji].”

“[heart eyes]”

He may not be down with the shiplap, but he sure knows how to make a girl feel like she didn’t spend all morning under the kitchen sink with a blow dryer.

Let’s get you caught up.

I don’t even remember the last time that I published anything on here, but I think it was probably before my hair was colored green and 1/3 of my kids had surgery and adding another dog to the crazy that is our house/life.

By now, my hair is that ugly blond that can only come after the green fades, another kid needs surgery, and the puppy is about to celebrate her first birthday.

Consider yourself caught up.

On to the important stuff: earlier this week, my husband and I got a helluva deal on a smart thermostat – I’m talking sale price, PLUS additional money off, PLUS a gift card to use at a later date, PLUS a rebate. It shipped to our house yesterday afternoon, but by the time we left my niece’s soccer practice, and grabbed tacos for dinner, and Christmas shopped, we didn’t get home until pretty late. But not so late that my husband – who has zero experience with wiring or thermostats and who once ACTUALLY referred to needle-nose pliers as “tweezer-pliers,” thought “hey, let’s install this thing.”

Let’s just say that we’re tired today and he’s probably extra tired of me because I did all the wiring while yelling “MACGRUBER.”

(Hairstyles and adenoids and puppies may change, but I am the same, always.)