Happy Friday

The Grandmother has left, The Mother remains, and the kids are in Heaven.  The Spouse and I have been enjoying multiple date nights while we have in house babysitters.

I have been rehabbing/painting/renovating a ton of yard and estate sale finds, I'm just now finishing up the first project and hope to have pictures for y'all next week.

Have a great weekend!

Merry Christmas!!!

I was supposed to be in New York today but things changed and it didn't work out. I'm a little bummed but mostly over it, probably due to the Barbie Dream House I bought yesterday. 

I had seen this picture online:



I drooled. I wanted it. I checked Craigslist and ebay for prices, to see what the range was. It varied from $50 for an incomplete/broken house to $300+ for a complete kitted out Dream House. I knew that if the price were reasonable and if the house were still there that I would buy it. I sweated over the price a bit, but decided if it were just the house and under $80, I would take it.

Yesterday, Mom and I dropped the boys off at their respective camps then headed south to an estate sale. We were 1/2 hour early so of course Mom had to line up and ask everyone what they were looking for and did they want the dream house. (rolling eyes)  

When the doors finally opened, we headed to the basement and zeroed in on my childhood dream toy. There it was. Dirty, neglected, sitting in the corner ashamed. It was surrounded by FOUR boxes of accessories. I didn't dig through them, but the Corvette was prominently sticking out of it. The tag on the house read, "$25 for house/accessories". 

HELLS YEAH!!!

Y'all cannot imagine the elation, surprise, shock, joy that came from seeing that tag. At 40 years old, I was getting my dream toy. The Thing I had always wanted. My Red Ryder BB Gun. It was Christmas 1979 I was wearing my flannel nightgown (why did we wear those? They were drafty and cold!) and running down the stairs as fast as I could. Not only did Santa bring me my Dream House, he brought me every single thing I needed for it. 

I lugged it upstairs, piece by piece while Mom guarded the pile. The woman who rung me up had to double check the price with the woman running the sale. She knew I was getting a steal. I made no apologies for it, but wanted to get out of there as fast as I could. It took a long time to reconfigure the seats in the car to get everything loaded. Mom offered to pay, since she could now afford to buy it for me, but I said I needed to do it on principle - of course, she now says that I'm rubbing her nose in it. I wasn't trying to hurt her feelings, but it was important to me that I buy it myself. We had a nice mother daughter bonding time...and then we hit the outlets.

Later, in my garage, Mom started sorting through all the accessories. There are a ton of repeats, so I may offer them up on ebay to others kitting out their houses. I don't want to be a Barbie profiteer, but I would like to share the joy (and cut down on the amount of clutter/crap in the Dream House). Barbie obviously let her house keeper go years ago, so the house needs some cleaning before we put it in the toy room and start arranging furniture. 





Merry Christmas, y'all!

The mother and the grandmother are in town.  Much yard sale visiting, child spoiling, picture taking over the weekend.  I love them, but we all know how to push each other's buttons like no one else.  Three days of togetherness left me needing a break.

I'll leave you with this:

Obsession, you're my obsession...

I don't need this, I don't need this.  If you do, you can get it here: http://www.coach.com/online/handbags/Product-coach_barbie-10551-10051-69556-en?cs=nat&catId=5000000000000356301&LOC=BARBIE

Good thing he's abtastic

These are one of the fugliest pairs of shoes I have ever seen.  If Smokey the Bear bred with the Honey Nut Cheerios Bee and their child had sex with a pair of shoes, THAT child would be these shoes:



Jeah!

I'm a Barbie Girl, in a Barbie World

OMG, OMG, OMG, I am so excited.

It's sad, really.

I am so excited because Coach is coming out with a Barbie.  Yes, I know it's not Kate Spade.  Still, I'm so excited.  It's a Barbie with a handbag.  Not that she didn't have a handbag before (I have a lunch box full of them), but it's a Coach handbag.  And - hopefully - there will be a full size one sold that I can buy.  Not that I need it. Because, well, you know...



 But, still, a Coach Barbie bag would be delightful.

Garden fail

I cannot grow zucchini.  I am, perhaps, the only gardener in the history of gardening that cannot grow zucchini.  Allegedly, it's an idiot proof veggie to grow in the garden and people have been known to doorbell ditch bags of the stuff on unsuspecting neighbors.  I had high hopes of grilled zucchini, baked zucchini, zucchini noodles, zucchini bread, chocolate zucchini bread.  I had pinned dozens of recipes to Pinterest, all for no reason.  There will be no homegrown zucchini at Wayne Manor this year.

I've been fairly successful with my yellow squash this year, the bell peppers aren't doing great because something keeps eating the leaves, there are a couple of straggly carrots, and it's too early to tell how the tomatoes will turn out (I got a late start on putting them outside.)  The only thing growing like gangbusters is the lone cucumber plant.  The twist is that I'm not a huge fan of cucumbers, and I didn't intend to plant it.  The Sister Wife had a leftover from her garden and donated it to mine.  It took off like gang busters and now I'm trying to think of ways to serve them - but I'm starting to gag at the thought of them.  If the tomatoes ever come in, I'll have a tasty cucumber tomato salad.  Until then, sigh...

Today is going to be copy day

I'm a lemming today, nothing original here just copying and pasting links to others.

But, if you want something to read, check out Rants from Mommyland about donating school supplies.  I've been doing it since before I had kids.  It combines my love of school supplies with my shopping problem multiplied by my obsession with bargains.  Glue for $.01 - who could resist?!?

You know what?  You don't even need to go to the link, just buy supplies and donate to your nearest school, church, food bank, or homeless shelter.  They will make sure it gets where it's needed.

Thank you!





(psstt...no one will judge if you smell those #2 Ticonderogas before you drop them off.  Oh yeah, that's the good stuff...)

And this is a love life -- to live life each small, sometimes unbearably tedious moment -- together.

I'm copying, posting, and asking you to go to this link today to read this blog post:

When You Think Your Love Story Is Boring

It's beautiful.  It's what happens when Cinderella and Prince Charming, Beauty and her Beast, and Snow White and her Prince Charming live happily ever after.  

Your Cheatin' Heart

This will probably end my relationship with Huma, but I have to say that if - IF - I were having a sexting relationship with Anthony Weiner, I would be far too embarrassed to give an interview about it.  I don't know what that stupid girl is thinking...

Oh, Huma.  Huma, Huma, Huma...you are better than this.  There are lots of other men out there that would love to be half of a power couple with you.  And probably quite a few women.  It's time to move on.

This message brought to you by Apple.

iphone 5 - the official phone of sexters everywhere.

In honor of bebe George

I feel like shopping.

Maybe some bling?


Or something fun?


Or a smart but sensible pump, a la Her Royal Highness The Queen?


Decisions, decisions.

If anyone needs me, I'll be at Kate Spade.

Welcome Baby Cambridge

I find it ironic that the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge will go out of their way to raise their new baby "normally" and yet Kimye will go out of their way to raise their baby in a cloistered pampered environment.  New money is sooo tacky.

It's just clutter...

It's time to face facts that Batman and Robin are no longer babies.  That The Spouse is soooo over having kids despite an opening on our team for Batgirl.  That our basement is full of crap.  That for the first time in years that crap is easily accessible, thanks to the large storage area in Wayne Manor.  It's time.

This week, I posted ads on Craigslist listing our cloth diapers and trike.  Sniff.  It was surprising how many people were interested in the diapers.  When I cloth diapered, it seemed no one was interested.  Now they are selling like hotcakes.  Sniff.

I diapered both my babies in those diapers.

Batman received that trike for Christmas when he was two.

Sniff, sniff...


But it's just stuff.  Stuff we don't use, don't need, and can pass on to others.

I also sold the reel lawn mower, but feel zero nostalgia about that.

Forget "post racial"...

Wouldn't it be wonderful if instead of sorting people by race we typed them by "asshole" or "not an asshole"?

Think of how fun census forms would be going forward.  And jury selections. And cities that still institute student busing.

Get me central casting!

If a new movie were to be made about the Boston Strangler (in light of new evidence), it better star Michael Imperioli.





Carry on...

Do we blame gay marriage for this?

There is a penis storm coming!  Lock up your wives and blindfold the children...

This is me, circa 1993

Or last Thursday...

I'm such a trendsetter.  It's hard being me.

What I'm up to...

 Bite off more than you can chew.  

You can always spit it out on the floor if you decide you don’t like it. 

I've been biting, chewing and spitting a lot lately.  Thanks for checking in.

Marriage Truth

This is so true that it's not even funny.  It is.  But it's not.

A Shitty Problem

The Spouse will not let me get one of these:



I think they are hilarious and practical.  A two-fer, if you will.  I love two-fers.  Alas, The Spouse does not want us to be "those people" in the neighborhood.  My rebuttal is that we are indeed "those people" and the sooner we let our freak flag fly, the better for all.

Anyhoo, our neighbors do not have a fenced backyard.  They walk their dogs on a leash, but the dogs have been known to forget where the boundary is on our side lawn and do their business.  Eventually, it gets picked up, mostly on (their) lawn mowing days.  Still, it's aggravating when I'm trying to get my lady-time gardening accomplished and there is a huge pile of shit in my way (they are big dogs).  I think the sign could be an effective passive-aggressive way to let them know that I am onto them.  At the very least, I think this would work:



It runs in the family.  My mom got into an argument at an estate sale earlier this year because a woman didn't pick up after her dog. It culminated in my mother yelling, "BITCH!!" across the lawn after the woman refused to clean up after her dog.  This would be a great story about our family legacy of fighting injustice, except that 7 year old Batman was standing right next to her at the time, wondering if Mimi was going to come to blows with a stranger.  I kindly explained to Mom that my intolerance for assholes has only been curbed by my not wanting to frighten my kids and could she try to remember that for next time?

A campaign has started in the UK (United Kingdom, not University of Kentucky) to encourage owners to pick up after their pooches.  The poster (below) is disgusting and pointed and I think it's excellent.  Hope it works.

RIP

Driving home last week, my jaw literally dropped when I heard the news that James Gandofini passed away.  I was sure it was an internet hoax.  Sadly, it was not.

I know he wasn't responsible for Tony Soprano's lines (there are writers, after all), but he delivered them wonderfully.  Today, I leave you with one of my favorites:

"You know my feelings: Every day is a gift.  It's just, does it have to be a pair of socks?"

Word.

RIP

Oops...

Paula Dean is really red in the face over her unfortunate choice of words.

Bad pun, sorry.  Couldn't resist.

And she just lost her job...

Meanwhile, at the Paula Dean Academy, in Ohio, afro puffs and braids are banned:



http://living.msn.com/family-parenting/the-family-room-blog-post?post=d04c8e5a-0910-4343-8d5f-d8c6cce0a24e

I'm not making this up, people!  If someone banned my ponytail, I would be outraged.  How is this possibly ok?

Family Room

At the home inspection:



Before:



Primer:



Terrible "after" shot:



I have since put the room back together.  The wall to the left is still covered with ripped wallpaper and the wall to the right needs to be painted to match the new paint.  It's not perfect, but it's a heck of a lot brighter than it was a week ago!

Oh Hell NO!

The Spouse thinks that we have enough junk in our house at the moment and I need to focus on downsizing vs. acquiring.

Say what?

Not everything that is in our house will stay in our house.  Some things are in the wrong rooms.  Some things need a coat of paint or an adjustment to be just perfect.  Some things are treasures that I cannot/will not get rid of.  Some things are crap that I need to get rid of.

I have an eye for stuff but not an eye for design.  I can see the possibilities, I just can't pull the room together.   I realized my design deficiency in college, when other girls had awesome dorm rooms decorated with Guess ads and Monet posters.  I had the same things, but not the same eye for pulling them together.  Where others created cozy spots, I created chaos.

It will be years until Wayne Manor is "done".  It needs some serious repairs until we can begin to address some of the more cosmetic things.  Until then, we're going to have a house filled with more junk than we can handle.

The one that got away...

I am going to kick myself for not buying this.



I walked away.  Damn!