My kids aren’t impressed with the Spin Doctors. Or any music from the nineties for that matter. I’ve tried, people. The other day I hit a musical jackpot on an easy listening radio station (my CD player is broken and our family knows not the joys of a xm radio) when I caught the tail end of Two Princes followed immediately by a PM Dawn song. Before I could set adrift on memory bliss, my kids were honking in the backseat “But Mom! I heard the eye of the tiger song on the other station!” And please know that I express my utmost disappointment and acknowledge my failure as a parent with this fact: they’re talking Katy Perry’s “Roar”, not the actual classic “Eye of the Tiger” that us well-rounded adults know and love.
Here’s what Merrick likes to do these days: lose teeth.
Well, you can’t see it in this picture, but he’s got an adorable tooth-sized hole in that little grin, and he was pumped. He even wrote a note to the tooth fairy, which–not surprisingly–she forgot to answer. (Read all about our experiences and tooth fairy insight here and here.)
Cheyenne’s senior year is racing by at record pace. Pretty soon we’ll have no more sweet moments like this:
We’re rolling along with the house-building process and I often get asked “Isn’t it so fun?” or “Don’t you just love picking stuff out?” And while there are fun parts, I must quite honestly tell you it’s not as glamorous as I imagined. I don’t want to be that girl who only shows the cute, clean finished products, so allow me to share a small glimpse into the scary messy side of building.
Saturday, Caleb and I trekked all the way to downtown Oklahoma City to B and B Fix-It Warehouse. We had trouble finding it, because this place? Looks straight shady. We never would have guessed that this group of old, dilapidated buildings is home to an actual business. So if it weren’t in the interest of saving mass quantities of money on front doors, we would have passed it right on by–what with its boarded-up windows, and entrance door that has “Front Door” written on it in sharpie.
Not only did we get out of there alive, we also found a pair of these bad boys:
Caleb doesn’t know it yet, but I fully intend to paint these suckers, because nothing says “welcome to my humble abode” quite like a blood-red door. I might even write my own sharpie message on them.
Also, we’ve had some real work done:
I’ve never been so excited about cement in my life. Apparently, I’m not the only one:
Our home now has the restless spirit of a wild prairie donkey deep within its foundation. It’s sweet, really. And probably fitting.
I’ve also been hunting for deals at places like Habitat for Humanity’s RE-Store in Norman:
And Roxy’s Funky Art Boutique, also in Norman:
The rest of the construction process is uninteresting–framing, plumbing, windows–double-hung? single-hung? Aluminum? Vinyl? Low-E? WHAT DOES IT ALL EVEN MEAN? My plan is to leave most of this to my husband so that if something major is jacked up, it’s all his fault.
But if something winds up ugly–that’s on me. And I’m okay with that, because I’ll just act like I meant for it to be that way, and he wouldn’t understand because he’s not a creative soul like I am, and then he’ll feel all bad for not being artistic, and the conversation will be over, and ugly will be the new pretty.
Of course I would never do that to him. Because I would never pick out anything ugly anyway, because I have such a creative soul.