This month has been a blur as we've been in the process of remodeling our entire downstairs. We started with the rec room which has lived up to the 'rec' description of it's name the entire six years we've lived here. That entailed a thorough cleaning, de-cluttering, painting, and new carpet.
Then it was onto our bedroom, which was originally supposed to be a large family room complete with a fireplace. What it ended up turning into was a playroom, computer room, and general hangout for our kids and their friends that just so happened to have our bed stuck in the middle of it. The evening we were laying in our bed and Z and his friends walked in and joined us to watch tv, I knew that something had to be done, and fast. My idea was to build a wall with french doors that would divide the room in half, thus allowing us to open the doors to enjoy the fireplace or close them for privacy. We're currently nearing the completion of that huge undertaking.
Needless to say, our house and our lives have been in complete upheaval during this process and I've been forced out of my comfort zone on more than one occasion. Last week I needed to run to Lowe's without my husband. Lowe's isn't my kind of store and I'm not comfortable making purchases alone, so I took Z along with me as back up. We walked in the door armed with our list consisting of drywall and sandpaper and I immediately started looking for an employee to ask for assistance. Z rolled his eyes and said, "We don't need help." (Typical male.) But when we passed a female cashier and she asked if she could help me with anything, I accepted her offer and she took us to the isle we needed. I had no idea there were so many 'grades' of sandpaper. Several phone calls to my husband and one teary eyed moment later, Z was pushing our flat cart full of items to the cashier who initially helped us. As she checked us out, she asked me out. Yep, she asked me out! With a deer-in-the-head-lights look, I turned to Z who was giving me his best Jim Halpert face and shrugged at me. We made an awkward exit and pushed the cart through the parking lot in silence until Z said, "Dude, she looked like daddy." (Um, NO she didn't.) I swore off Lowes and vowed to work on my vibe.
When my husband needed to go to a home improvement store again, I refused to tag along unless it was Menards. Several LONG hours later, we were headed toward the front with yet another flat cart filled with long pieces of wooden trim. Since I was the one pushing the cart, I got to choose which check-out line, therefore I headed toward the one male cashier. (Not taking anymore chances.) I turned into his lane, misjudged my distance, and not only impaled him with the trim, but managed to run over both of his feet with my cart. (Um, sorry?) At least he didn't ask me out, right? Unfortunately, my cart-pushing privileges have been suspended indefinitely.
In the midst of all of that, I've had to juggle the normal every day activities such as C's weekly Gymnastics class on Thursdays. Since my treadmill is currently buried beneath mounds of crap, I've been trying to squeeze in exercise wherever I can. For several weeks after I drop her off, I've managed to sneak across the street to the park, walk 4 miles, and make it back in time to pick her up without her noticing I was gone.....until, this week. I no sooner made it to the furthest point on the trail and my cell phone rang. It was C's teacher informing me that she had been removed from the class for "causing a disturbance" and I needed to pick her up immediately. I arrived back at Gymnastics to find C sobbing in the waiting room and wearing someone elses sweatsuit because she liked it better than her own. I did not have time for this. After trying unsuccessfully to reason with a 3 year old, I finally broke down and bribed her with McDonalds if she would finish out the class without a scene. It worked, but I'm now "that mom" in the waiting room that gets "the look" from the other moms who like to tell themselves that they have complete control over their toddlers and I can only hope that they don't remember that it was my daughter who threw the tantrum during the spring recital and refused to do the much-anticipated-much-practiced-much-talked-about group bow. Whatever. I drove home silently promising myself to never resort to bribery again.
But it wasn't over for me yet. That evening as we painted our bedroom walls, I had to endure a long lecture from my hubby for rewarding bad behavior and using bribery to get what I wanted. When I couldn't take another minute, I offered him a massage if he'd stop talking about it. He agreed. So much for that no-more-bribery promise, but ya know what? Who cares. Because today's concern is all about tile installation. The guy showed up, asked for his check for half of the installation fee, and abruptly left for the bank with the promise to return in 15 minutes. That was an hour ago. Guess it's time to think up another bribe to get him to come back........
"Dear Lord, please let next week be better than this one.....if you do, I promise to.....oh, never mind. Amen."