I remember there used to be a design secret about hanging drapes over a mirror on an empty wall to make people think you had a window there. As if the people coming to your home care if you have a lot of windows. (read: they do. You have to hear the reaction the windows on the North side of my house get from visitors. Windows on the side of your house are all but unheard of in rowhomes). But it's not nice to trick them into thinking there's a window when there's not. It's not that deep.
It's like when the President is addressing the nation while holed up in his bunker and they have him sitting in an Oval Office dupe room with a window frame behind him and through the window you see a sky that almost looks like the real sky but is more like something on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride and a few branches of a fake ficus are peeking in on the right hand side.
If I had a government job, I'd like it to have something to do with staging the fake Oval Office. I'd make it look less like a Saturday Night Live sketch.
There is a full bathroom in the basement, with a shower stall and everything. No one has used it yet. Dave almost did the other day and I even got him a clean towel/socks/underwear/undershirt to take down there so he didn't have to drip all over the floors to come upstairs and dry off but then the wind shifted or something and he didn't go down and the cats made that towel and those underthings their bed and now I have to wash the cat hair out of them.
My life is hard.
I'm sure the shower is lovely.
I found a silverfish in the upstairs bath yesterday so now I have to seal the second floor off entirely and only shower in the basement.
Before I got my eyes fixed, I'd never be able to see bugs in the shower. I don't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.
I also couldn't see to shave my legs.
I can't wait until it's long pants pajama season so the prickly hairs don't stab into the insides of my legs when I sleep on my side.
I can see to shave my legs these days but I don't have the time or energy.
The hair on my legs is blonde.
I don't know why that's an excuse for not shaving but people say it so I use it.
I shave my mustache in the shower, you don't need to see for that, you can just do it by feel. People say you aren't supposed to do that but I say it's more polite than letting the hairs grow out until they are long enough to wax.
We wanted to paint the whole house too, and it's a job that is going to have to be professionally done due to high ceilings and some areas that would look shitty if we did it. We called in the same guy that did the old house and he quoted us double what we paid before, and the new house is a smaller job. He said that it would be more work but that's billshut. I think that he's basing our price on the niceness of the new neighborhood and house versus the old. That's not fair but it happens a lot.
He's not getting the job.
The thing that gets my goat is that he knows us. His son plays baseball with Dave and they've been friends since high school.
Nicholas has his own room now and that's really weird for me. He sleeps pretty well and I sit on his floor and read to him until he falls asleep. Jacob likes to lay in there and listen too, so that works out nicely. Jacob would let me rock him to sleep in my arms when he was a baby. Nicholas is a wild child and will buck around uncontrollably when he's tired so he has to fall asleep in the crib so he doesn't fall to the ground. I stick my arm between the bars and rub his face or pat his butt or whatever until he's out. It's a bit sad, really. Like a cage.
Only in America do we put our babies in a cage at the end of the hallway and call it wonderful.
Nick is a tank and he eats everything and he has three top teeth and one bottom one and he's still pretty bald and he's still not talking but he has a lot to say. He'll be ten months in eight days. I guess I should plan for his first birthday party. I'm of the ilk that believes the first birthday party is for the parents and not for the child so there will be no stupid theme or characters or that sort of crap. Just a lot of food and a cake and plenty of whiskey and wine and beer to celebrate the fact that nobody died. That's an important celebration.
Assuming, of course, that no one dies between now and then.
I'm tempted to combine his birthday with either Thanksgiving or with our giant holiday party just to make it easier. One less event to clean the house for.
I'm pretty sure we are all pretty comfortable in the new house because it isn't spotless anymore.
It still smells really new though.
Having a new house is really weird. Everything is new so you aren't supposed to worry about anything breaking, but everything is new so you worry about breaking anything you touch.
I found a leak in one of Jacob's bedroom windows and hopefully we can get the roofers that were supposed to cap everything before settlement as a part of the sale agreement back to fix it and pay for any damage done to the outside and inside on the wooden sills.
I didn't tell him because if I did he would freak out.
He's very freaked out lately about home damage and has something new to tell me about termites every day. I asked him why he's so concerned and knowledgeable about termites and he said that he just loves bugs.
I am guessing it has to do with the ten million exterminator ads that run on the television.
Awhile back, Jake suggested that we get on an "adult adoption website like match.com to find a lady to come and do our chores". I think I'd like that. But that might not be the place to find her.
I so desperately would like to have the ladies that cleaned the old house before it was on the market to come and clean the new one so I can have the luxury of not cleaning the baseboards and windows and showers and stuff. The problem is they cost money. But I think it's worth the cost, so it's not that much of a problem. I think. I don't know. What do I know? Nothing.
I know I don't want to clean certain things that I own.
The real problem is that I'd have to clean up before they came to clean up and that's a lot of pressure. Some days it just doesn't happen.
And some days it does.
And those are good days.