We have been in our home for two weeks now, and we have learned some valuable lessons about ourselves.
First one: We should never ever ever buy a fixer upper.
Like Ever, ever.
The Mister is too busy with work and I like having a nice clean and polished looking home. I would like to think that we could buy a little place and make it up just right for us, but reality is, we would hire someone to do all the leg work and probably get divorced in the process.
For example, last night the Mister was finally able to go up in the attic to measure where the joists and studs are in the ceiling. (Why? Because the chandelier in the dining room is hanging about a foot and a half next to the breakfast bar instead of over the table, where it should be. AND IT IS DRIVING ME BAT SHIT CRAZY!) Anyway, the attic is very......cramped to say the least. The Mister had to frog walk from one end of the house to the other.
It. Was. Hilarious.
The whole time he kept grumbling.
"*@$#;, this is why I went to *#@$^ college. My wife and her %;^# chandeliers. This is ^&# disgusting. I am going to fall to my #@% death. That's her real plan on why she got me up here."
I have been trying to get this place in order since the first moment we stepped in. I know exactly how I want it to look, and I want it to look that way NOW! When we first looked at the place it was easy to tell that the last remodel was in the early to late 90's. The house was feather painted in pastel colors, there is white tile and beige carpet as far as the eye can see and the light fixtures look like the ones I removed in this post here. I have spent hours each day painting, going to the hardware store, pruning (the 5,000,000 hedges that are in the yard) and driving my family to all the different schools, trains etc. I feel like I have definitely jumped in feet first in the suburban lifestyle. I even go to drive thru Starbucks, for Christ sake.
Long story short, I am really trying to embrace our new lifestyle here. I am trying to make our new home so the girls will be able to have the "country life" they have been asking for for over two years now. So imagine how disheartened I was when the oldest told me that she feels like she is living in the sitcom Suburgatory, without the funny.
She says the girls are kind of mean and all they care about is gossiping and shopping. (Isn't that just 8th grade? It's the age, right?) She also says we didn't move far enough from the city, and we should have moved to a small town.
Face. Slap. For. Me.
She's trying out for Cheerleading today, and if she decides that isn't for her I am going to push her into joining some clubs, and hopefully she will feel better in her "suburgatory" skin.
Clara, on the other hand, is flourishing. She marches into school everyday without ever looking back. I don't plan on doing any kind of gardening until spring, but she has been begging us to use her new shovel to "dig up the flowers" since we got here.
The other day The Mister and I let her get a few supplies for her new garden.
Here I was teaching her how to dig.
She didn't realize that you don't actually throw the dirt over your shoulder cartoon style, and is laughing at how silly she is.
Putting the flowers in the ground and realizing she likes playing with dirt clumps more then planting flowers.
This is my favorite.
The Mister putting up her garden decoration she picked out.
(The neighbors are probably terrified we are going to become "those" people. Actually, I think they watch us from their window and laugh at us most of the time. I know I would.)
But she's happy and that is all that matters.