Oct 202009
 

Here, as they say, is where the magic happens.

In our particular case, the magic is that Craig hasn’t left me yet even though very little magic happens here.

Hence the Help Wanted sign, which was Craig’s idea.

Cute, right? I thought so, too. Until a few seconds into our little photo shoot when Craig said:

“When you write about this room you should tell your blog friends that we only have one sheet.”

“What? Why? “

“Because I think most people use two sheets. I don’t think most people decide the top sheet is “too much work” and throw it away.I bet people even have extra sets of sheets instead of just washing the exact same sheet for seven years.”

He said this last part slowly, emphasizing each word, with extra gusto on the seven.

OH. I said.

Well.

I raised my eyebrows, dropped the camera, and took a very deep breath.

Craig ducked.

Too late.

“If what you’re suggesting is that I need to have TWO of things when I can barely keep up with having ONE of things than I might as well check myself into an institution right now and call it a day. Because you know what? The only job I have formally accepted in this home is to make sure things appear to be working on the outside, not to make them actually work on the inside. Which is why we have blankets, husband, because they are on the outside. Because people see them, and will notice if they’re missing. I CANNOT also make sure that things like sheets, which are on the INSIDE, are also in working order. This is why I make it to my laser hair removal appointment every month but have found it a scheduling impossibility to see a dentist since Tish was born. And why the girls have tights in every color of the rainbow but are behind on their well checks. BECAUSE TEETH AND INTERNAL ORGANS ARE ON THE INSIDE.LIKE THE SHEETS. Not a priority. FACIAL HAIR AND TIGHTS…OUTSIDE. Are you with me?

AND FURTHERMORE…is there some sort of electrical fence that keeps the Y chromosome from crossing the threshold of Bed Bath and Beyond?

AND IN CLOSING, HUSBAND, didn’t they teach you in modeling school to just HOLD YOUR SIGN AND SMILE PRETTY?”

Of course, Craig did not answer these last two questions because he had long since fallen sleep with his little sign on his chest.


Blog friends, did one of you tell husband about the top sheet thing? Because the continuation of my way of life is completely dependent on Craig not finding out what is considered normal in a household.Don’t screw this up for me.


One more with better lighting, and sweet little hand prints all over the mirror

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Oct 212009
 

This is my back porch. It’s where I can be outdoors without annoying outdoor things, like sun and bugs and lack of couches. I love everything about this room…except for that stupid simplify sign.I bought that sign when I decided that my new thing was going to be “simplifying.” Which was, coincidentally, right about the time Craig and I ran out of money

The point of the sign was to encapsulate and display my new manifesto, which was as follows:

See, I didn’t need you anyway, stupid money and fancy, extra things. I am simple. Organic. Deep and spiritual and above material comforts. I reject you, extravagance, before you can abandon me. Or at least immediately thereafter.

Anyway, the Simplify sign mocks me, reminding me every day that perhaps I am not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Because wouldn’t it have been simpler not to buy the stupid sign?

I always feel like the sign is arguing loudly with itself on my otherwise peaceful porch.Like a painting of a gun with a peace sign etched in it.

But no matter what, I can’t take the sign down, because when I brought it home Craig said “OH! Wonderful! Another wooden word sign. Exactly what we need. It’ll be in the garage by next weekend.”

So it has to stay. Forever. I will be buried holding that horrible Simplify sign.Which would be funny, don’t you think?



P.S. Please stop with the dentist referral emails. You know I love you and appreciate your concern for my welfare, but like material comforts, I consider myself above dentistry. I fancy myself a unique type of transcendentalist, if you will.

This is the day, friends, enjoy it.


Oct 222009
 

Here’s Chase’s room. It’s where he hides from Tish.


 

Meet Chase’s guinea pig, Romeo. I know it’s hard to see him, but can you smell him? We can. From the mailbox.

A while back I was complaining to my funniest friend Amy about Craig’s soccer games and how he leaves me at home with the kids while he goes to kick things and run in circles with his buddies. And how he refers to these excuses to leave the house as fancy things like “tournaments” and such. When I was done, Amy put down her fork, looked me in the eyes and said:

“GLENNON. Leave Craig alone about the soccer. Soccer is BETTER THAN A BLONDE.”

And that’s what Romeo is for our family. He’s annoying and smelly and rodentish. But he’s BETTER THAN A DOG.

Dog people. I mean no disrespect. One day I will join you in dogdom. I just really can’t take care of another needy being at this juncture. If it helps, I fear dogs less than cats. That makes me part of the club, right? Sorry, cat people.


This is the girls’ room.



Tish calls it her princess room. Which is fitting. If, in fact, princesses scream like banshees when you turn out the light, flail around violently for hours, slam themselves into the door till it cracks….and then finally pass out on the floor like drunken sailors. Craig and I are good at some things. Planning and carrying out effective bedtime routines is not one of those things.

See this sweet wooden word sign?


I’m about one bedtime tantrum away from altering this sign to say – (Earmuffs, Jesus) – “Love is delirious, love is borderline homicidal.” Just as a gentle warning to my girls. I think the sign as it reads now might be giving them a false sense of security.


P.S. Sorry about the picture quality, I know it’s awful. I’m not allowed to get a new, better camera until I prove that I can avoid losing the one I already have for a full month. Same rule applies to new sunglasses, sippy cups, and children.