Monday, March 26, 2007
No more boxes-- we're all moved in
We've moved! After a month of waiting and painting and waiting for new floors and painting some more, we've finally moved! And unpacked. Harry has been so helpful. First of all, he decided that needs to go to bed at 8 or 8:30, not 7:00, so we can all spend more time together as a family. Good timing on that one, little buddy. He's also been instrumental in keeping the new floors clean by eating almost anything that stands in the way of him and well polished perfection. He prefers styrofoam, but cardboard and little bits of tape are cool, too. It's also incredibly yummy to lick the business end of the DustBuster. You know what's not palatable? His old Rice Krispies, puffs, and Cheerios. He won't eat FOOD off the floor-- what do you think he is? A dog? Today, Harry helped me put together a shoe rack whose box promised that it "Locks Together in Seconds." That turned out to be true, if by "Locks Together in Seconds" they meant "Can Be Hammered Together in Thirty Minutes, with Minimal Tears--Maybe Longer if You Spend 20 Minutes Running From the Basement to the Bedroomand Back Several Times with Increasing Degrees of Hysteria Looking For the Effing Piece You Are Holding in Your Hand." How did Harry help, you ask. In two ways. First, by crying plaintively while I stuck him in his crib to run downstairs because the package warned me that "damage" would occur if I assembled the rack on carpet, and the ambiguity was enough to freak me out. Second, Harry helped by licking the bottoms of our shoes as I placed them on the rack. But that's all behind us now because we are UNPACKED and loving it. Only a couple casualities of the moving blitz-- one margarita glass and two (discontinued, grr) wine glasses were killed in action, and our alarm clock is MIA, but we hear it's being held prisoner behind enemy lines in the cedar chest that's in the garage until we can figure out what to do with it. We have plans to overthrow the clutter enemy and liberate the clock tomorrow. And that metaphor is dead. Viva la resistance and enjoy the pics.
Checking his email real quck before we go
Harry on the slippery floors
Our stuff in the truck
Saying buh-bye to the old place
Harry loves cords more than anything in the world. Except maybe styrofoam.
His first bath in the big boy bathtub-- he kept crawling and rolling over
Harry with a little something on his chin
Our holycrapthatroomiseffingyellow bedroom, which is really growing on us, espeically sincce we filled it to bursting with brown furniture to cut the yellow a little
Our cute little monkey bathroom-- while painting it, we discovered that it was ALL WALLPAPER that the previous owner sloppily painted over. What a nice surprise.
Harry the Bear's adorbale little room. He loves to play in there because everything that's safe is totally on his level.
This is the first time all week that I have looked like a girl.
Looking down the stairs-- thanks to Harry for decorating with toys.
The view from the entry way
The entry way itself
The couch and our new lamp, for which we shopped for weeks. Literally, weekes!
Ben's chair and our oldest possession-- our lamp table
Harry getting ready to chow down...
right next to the shrine to him
Our teeny little kitchen-- note the plate of Ben's favorite copokies-- am I an awesome wife, or what?
The powder room, which may seem like an anticlimactic ending, but it is easily the most improved room in the house-- it used to have flourescent light, glossy green paint, and gold linoleum. Even though we primed before we painted, the room still looks a bit green, even though it's yellow!
That's all for now-- if you want to see more come visit!