Got the kid’s room painted. It’s green. “Spring Fever” from the Ace Hardware line of paint, in case you need to know. Trixie helped.
It’s quite nice. It manages to be very lively in the daylight, and rather serene in the evening light. Here’s Trixie admiring her work:
Hey, here’s something I don’t recommend; moving a queen-sized mattress and box springs by yourself. If you have stairs, I recommend it even less.
Box springs are light but lack maneuverability.
Mattresses are heavy and are maneuverable to the point of being uncontrollable.
It's a good thing we took everything off the walls before we started that particular job. I did discover that my reach is almost exactly the width of a queen-sized mattress, which means I can grip it without being able to lift it. Awesome! The fact that nothing broke is a miracle. St. Vincent de Paul has one chance to come pick it up, before I call the junk man. Not the charitable organization, the saint hisself. If he could bring comfort to the condemned, surely he can help me get my house ready for a baby.
Because I am not a joiner of things (I was a member of the Star Wars fan club for a time, but I left after Lucas Film took over the club and it stopped being a resource for like-minded fans to geek out and became a mouthpiece for the Lucas Film PR department) ... where was I? Ah, yes, not joining things. Because I am not a joiner of things, I also find it difficult to involve other people in my efforts. I lack the ability to ask for help. That is how I find myself – alone – hauling a queen mattress down the stairs and out the back yard into the garage while occasionally asking my dear pregnant wife, “Was that the last stair?” Do I have friends who would help? Yes, I do. Do I ask them for help? No, I do not. Why? Because martyrdom is fun! On the plus side, I suppose, I got to drink all the beer.
So, room painted, some excess furniture and stuff piled up and ready for donation, we’ve begun the process of registering for baby stuff (today Pottery Barn Kids, next week Target!) which caused a small scale meltdown on my part (it’s a long story and too embarrassing to tell, really), and just about 14,000 more little things to do before the kid shows up. Or we could just say “screw it,” take it easy for a few weeks, and the kid can sleep in a drawer.
Yeah, I like that.
It’s quite nice. It manages to be very lively in the daylight, and rather serene in the evening light. Here’s Trixie admiring her work:
Hey, here’s something I don’t recommend; moving a queen-sized mattress and box springs by yourself. If you have stairs, I recommend it even less.
Box springs are light but lack maneuverability.
Mattresses are heavy and are maneuverable to the point of being uncontrollable.
It's a good thing we took everything off the walls before we started that particular job. I did discover that my reach is almost exactly the width of a queen-sized mattress, which means I can grip it without being able to lift it. Awesome! The fact that nothing broke is a miracle. St. Vincent de Paul has one chance to come pick it up, before I call the junk man. Not the charitable organization, the saint hisself. If he could bring comfort to the condemned, surely he can help me get my house ready for a baby.
Because I am not a joiner of things (I was a member of the Star Wars fan club for a time, but I left after Lucas Film took over the club and it stopped being a resource for like-minded fans to geek out and became a mouthpiece for the Lucas Film PR department) ... where was I? Ah, yes, not joining things. Because I am not a joiner of things, I also find it difficult to involve other people in my efforts. I lack the ability to ask for help. That is how I find myself – alone – hauling a queen mattress down the stairs and out the back yard into the garage while occasionally asking my dear pregnant wife, “Was that the last stair?” Do I have friends who would help? Yes, I do. Do I ask them for help? No, I do not. Why? Because martyrdom is fun! On the plus side, I suppose, I got to drink all the beer.
So, room painted, some excess furniture and stuff piled up and ready for donation, we’ve begun the process of registering for baby stuff (today Pottery Barn Kids, next week Target!) which caused a small scale meltdown on my part (it’s a long story and too embarrassing to tell, really), and just about 14,000 more little things to do before the kid shows up. Or we could just say “screw it,” take it easy for a few weeks, and the kid can sleep in a drawer.
Yeah, I like that.
Comments
You know, you might even have friends who bring beer to you AND help move oversized objects....