Home Improvements

It's funny how my husband (and I'm sure many other husbands out there) feels the need to "improve" the house so he starts 9 projects at one time to accomplish his goal. We are not talking about little, simple projects like changing the lightbulb in the closet that I've been begging him to do for almost a month or finishing the baseboards in the bathroom that he started a year (yes, a YEAR) ago. No, no. Nothing that trivial. We're talking about projects like adding a room to the house, tiling the patio, painting the utility room, and closing in the carport. Stuff like that. I also love his timing. Like when he painted the entire house two days after I gave birth to Patrick. Let me tell you how easy and fun it was to entertain a two year old and care for a brand new baby while confined to my bedroom with towels shoved under the door for 8 hours a day for three days straight.

He recently transferred to a store closer to home (which is nice since we're saving so much gas money) and is working 6-sometimes 7-days a week. Clearly now is the perfect time to start very involved, complicated home improvements. Two days ago he replaced the faucet in the kitchen. Since he is not a plumber, whom I begged him to call in the first place, the job he claimed he could finish in an hour ended up taking three. Then he had to go to work and come home on his lunch break to complete it. So I had to run down the hall to the bathroom every time I needed water throughout the day. Thanks, honey!

I think all these unfinished labors are starting to rub off on the kids. The other night I was getting ready to give baths. "Getting ready" refers to the process of laying out PJs, putting toothpaste on toothbrushes, getting beds prepared to be slept in, and wrangling the two kids so I can pin them down and desperately try to pry the clothing off of them. That last part is the most time-consuming because usually what happens is I get Patrick undressed (he's the easiest) and while he is busy taking his diaper off I find Sarah, who knows to hide when I start getting Patrick undressed. By the time I find her, Patrick usually has removed the diaper and is happily "exploring" himself. Then, after a lot of crying, begging, and argument, she feels sorry for me and lets me get her clothes off. Now enough time has elapsed for Patrick to have peed on the carpet-on a really good night for him he can also manage to poop-so while I clean the mess up Sarah picks out an outrageous outfit that generally includes a purple boa and a strange hat. After I clean up Patrick's mess and wrestle the interesting outfit off of Sarah (again) I can finally get them both in the bath. Believe it of not, it is actually easier for me to bathe them at the same time. So back to my story: the other night I was getting ready to give baths, and on this night instead of re-dressing herself as usual, Sarah decided to do a little home renovating herself. (See picture now)
Where was Rick? You know, I asked the same question! He was sitting on the other side of this wall, watching TV on the couch. Since he was sitting less than 12 inches from the scene of the crime, one might expect that if anyone is at fault it would be him for allowing our daughter to bite a chunk out of the wall. Not so; apparently it is MY fault. See, according to Rick, I "let" her do this. Don't worry-I will remember his words tomorrow night when Patrick pees on the floor. ;)

So now we have this wall to add to the list of ambitions. I'm sure it will stay this way for many, many months-if not years. ...Like the rest of our house that is full of started-but never quite finished-tasks.