First of all, Emma is three! We had her birthday party, and I managed to live through it, though only just barely. Shockingly, the person that pitched in and made it possible for me to get everything done that I wanted to do was my sister. WTF is that shit all about, man? Apparently, poverty is good for her. When she has money, she's a bitchy, poser douchecanoe. Take all her cash away and she becomes a reasonable, stable - dare I say it - fun person to be around. I actually got to say the words "I couldn't have gotten any of this done with out help from my sister". It was surreal. At some point in the future, I'll do a post about every nuance of the party, but not today. I'll give you a picture of the birthday princess, though.
|Self-Rescuing, of course.|
Shekky, I've found someone even more inappropriate than I am. It's strange not to be the most outspoken and filthy person in the room. I'm not used to being the mild version of someone.
We've had more than our fair share of actual drama around the house, though. About a month ago, Papaw had another attack of atrial fibrillation in his heart that kept him in the hospital for more than a week. The doctors decided that it was caused in part by his medications, which they tweaked, and also in part by the fact that he's an 87 year old diabetic man. So they threw out the idea of a pacemaker. Papaw talked to my uncles about it (he didn't bother with Mother and I until later on, because I've learned that he's not just a racist and a bigot in his old age, he's also sexist. Neither one of my uncles has anything to do with Papaw's daily life. One of them lives literally down the street, but the only time he sees Papaw is when Papaw invites himself over.) and they both said that the thought of him with a pace maker made them uncomfortable. So he decided that he wasn't going to let them put one in, even though it was the safest choice.
I was pissed off. I called each one of my uncles and tore them a new one, and then I packed Emma up and took her to the hospital with me. I put her on Papaw's bed and said, "Would you like to see her grow up? Would you like to be around for her first day of Kindergarten? To watch her learn to ride a bike? To see how much more she looks and acts like Meme? Or would you like to die in your sleep because your heart gave out during a nap?" He opted for the pace maker.
While he was getting it put in, I was kind of scared. What if something happened and he died? For some reason, I voiced this fear to my sister, as she was the only other person in the waiting room with me. Her response, "No matter what, I'm glad you got him to do it. If you hadn't, I would have brought Maddie and Major up and used their puppy dog eyes on him til he agreed." I felt better. I've decided that if she and my brother in law start looking like they might get back on their feet again, I'm going to sabotage it. I'm getting attached to having a sane person as a sister.
Papaw is now fine and is thankful that I, in his words, kicked his butt. He feels good, has more energy, and doesn't have to worry about his heart any more. He says that he never realized how much he worried about it until he didn't have to anymore. So, I guess score one for bullying?
Now then. I'm going to share something with you guys... something that I'm not proud of, but something that I think I've kept you all hanging on over for far too long. When I did it, I thought it was a great idea, and the best option for the parties involved. Now, after I've had some time to live with my choices, I see that I've made a horrible mistake. It's easier to show you than it is to tell you, so... here.
Dude, this isn't the way it was supposed to look, this god-awful salmon color. It's like living inside a watermelon. I can't relax in it, I can't accessorize it, and nothing I've gotten matches it one I get it home. The pieces that I've bought in attempts to coordinate are, for the most part, pretty fantastic. I like my bedspread, though it's another hurdle I've thrown into my own path because it's so busy and the pattern is so particular. I love the silk peonies I found for my shelf, as well as the wall art above my bed and my turquoise Buddha. That mirror on my dresser? It's a real antique from a great-great aunt, and it's fantastic. But together, they're a nightmare, I feel.
So, I'm re-vamping. I've got a plan, I've got an inspiration, and I've got a direction to move in. I've picked out my new wall color and gotten fabric to use in a new bedspread. I've learned how to take the horrible 1980's texture off the walls, I'm planning shelving and storage and rugs, and I intend to photograph every project and post it here.
Speaking of posting, you all know that we're entering the month of Craftathon, which always keeps my hands too busy to type up a post. Since I don't end to really get into it until closer to Thanksgiving, I'm thinking ahead and creating a bunch of posts that I'll schedule ahead of time to run once a week. I've already got 2 of them: one crafty, and one recipe. I've got a handful of other stuff planned, tutorials and life hacks and whatnot. Things that are half-written and just need finishing or photos or something. I intend to do periodic updates on what's going on around the house, but, well... you know how bad I am with those schedules.
I'll do my best not to go weeks without an update through the holidays. But there's your quick-long update.