When Hubby and I first married we combined our thrift store / garage sale finds and had two couches, neither of which was fit for a dumpster. One was a HUGE behemoth with busted springs that even our twenty something year old bodies had a hard time climbing out of, and the other was a brown plaid sleeper circa 1974. Several months of coaxing, whining, pleading, and finance juggling I finally talked him into purchasing the couch and loveseat we are currently sitting on.
One would think that after enduring 17 years, five moves, two large dogs, two growing boys, and Lord only knows how many "oops" Hubby would agree that it is time to replace the furniture that we sit our rear ends on the most. Not my husband.
So my campaign begins. I start by internet shopping. Finding styles and colors I like etc in a reasonable price range and showing them to him and touting how wonderful they are. Hubby grunts " We don't need a new couch, these are fine" I ignore. I keep shopping. I find something else. Standard reply of " The kids will just tear up something new" and you see where this is going. It has for a few weeks now. I'm not deterred.
My campaign is a long slog, not a quick sprint. Eventually I will get him into a furniture store to "just look" When we get here it will be a fast sprint to the finish line as then it will simply be finding a style and price we can agree on.
I will continue with the picture show for a while yet. We still have quite a bit of work to complete the kitchen. Worn couches are hardly noticeable when you have raw sheetrock around the kitchen window, no baseboards, and the exterior of your house is several different colors (and not by design). The final countdown will begin when the kitchen work starts getting pulled together and the living room starts looking very shabby in comparison. I have a hunch he will cave then.
Vote for NEW COUCHES IN '15!
Saturday, March 28, 2015
Friday, March 20, 2015
BLAH!
That's about what I feel like lately. I'm just going through the motions the last week. I can't seem to shake the complete funk I'm in. I keep blaming weather and the need to get outside but really it's not that. I'm just tired.
Tired from the whirlwind trip south for the high school reunion. It was a lot of fun. I saw people I haven't seen in 25+ years. My class had a good showing as well. I didn't get to speak to many, caught up with a few unusual folks. (my 6th grade teacher) and met spouses and children of classmates. Hubby blended right in with the boys from my class - my class was mostly boys for some reason - and they have all friended him on FB and are planning a "man trip" for the summer. Oddly enough one of my classmates has the same career as Hubby which is really odd because there just aren't that many people out there in the world doing that.
Sonny Boy's illness passed as quick as it appeared and he was as right as rain by morning eating the breakfast in the morning like there would never be "free" breakfast again. My theory that he ate fast food and swallowed too much pool water was probably correct.
Tired is the key word when dealing with Mom's shenanigans lately. About three weeks ago she fell in her kitchen and must have landed directly on her chin and blackened her chin. I've never seen a bruise so purple. It looked like someone drew a purple goatee on her. One week later I took her to Sonny Boy's band concert and for some crazy reason she insisted she wear heals. I don't know why I didn't put a stop to that right there before she left the house, but I didn't and of course she rolled her foot walking into the gym. From her reaction I knew immediately she had broken another bone in her foot so I exchanged shoes with her and crammed my foot into her too small shoe and gave her my sensible rubber soled loafers. She refused to go the doctor the next day and she had doctor appointment on Monday anyway, so I didn't push but I said she needed to wear her "boot" which of course she didn't. Monday this week I take her to the doctor and she's hobbling so I drop her at the door of the doctor's office and go park. When I walked through the doors I hear the intercom "Medical Emergency, 1st floor Lobby" my first thought in a laughing manner is I bet that's Mom - it was. She somehow lost her balance and sprawled in front of the elevators. Three hours later we left. She has "numerous" fractures in her foot in various stages of healing and will go see a podiatrist next week. The primary care doctor said she may be casted. God help me.
I KNOW what angers me most in this whole nightmare is the fact is that she does so little to help herself. Her ability to even try is gone. She begs doctors every trip "Take me off some of these meds" and they say you have to quit smoking first but she doesn't put out the first cigarette. She complains about being weak but never tries to exercise. Mom's diet is worse than an 18 year old frat boy's.
I am going to call some assisted living places this afternoon and get some pricing. Hopefully I can have Hubby run some numbers (he's really good at that kind of stuff) and see if even feasible. We could probably bring in home health cheaper but honestly she needs more structure.
Tired from the whirlwind trip south for the high school reunion. It was a lot of fun. I saw people I haven't seen in 25+ years. My class had a good showing as well. I didn't get to speak to many, caught up with a few unusual folks. (my 6th grade teacher) and met spouses and children of classmates. Hubby blended right in with the boys from my class - my class was mostly boys for some reason - and they have all friended him on FB and are planning a "man trip" for the summer. Oddly enough one of my classmates has the same career as Hubby which is really odd because there just aren't that many people out there in the world doing that.
Sonny Boy's illness passed as quick as it appeared and he was as right as rain by morning eating the breakfast in the morning like there would never be "free" breakfast again. My theory that he ate fast food and swallowed too much pool water was probably correct.
Tired is the key word when dealing with Mom's shenanigans lately. About three weeks ago she fell in her kitchen and must have landed directly on her chin and blackened her chin. I've never seen a bruise so purple. It looked like someone drew a purple goatee on her. One week later I took her to Sonny Boy's band concert and for some crazy reason she insisted she wear heals. I don't know why I didn't put a stop to that right there before she left the house, but I didn't and of course she rolled her foot walking into the gym. From her reaction I knew immediately she had broken another bone in her foot so I exchanged shoes with her and crammed my foot into her too small shoe and gave her my sensible rubber soled loafers. She refused to go the doctor the next day and she had doctor appointment on Monday anyway, so I didn't push but I said she needed to wear her "boot" which of course she didn't. Monday this week I take her to the doctor and she's hobbling so I drop her at the door of the doctor's office and go park. When I walked through the doors I hear the intercom "Medical Emergency, 1st floor Lobby" my first thought in a laughing manner is I bet that's Mom - it was. She somehow lost her balance and sprawled in front of the elevators. Three hours later we left. She has "numerous" fractures in her foot in various stages of healing and will go see a podiatrist next week. The primary care doctor said she may be casted. God help me.
I KNOW what angers me most in this whole nightmare is the fact is that she does so little to help herself. Her ability to even try is gone. She begs doctors every trip "Take me off some of these meds" and they say you have to quit smoking first but she doesn't put out the first cigarette. She complains about being weak but never tries to exercise. Mom's diet is worse than an 18 year old frat boy's.
I am going to call some assisted living places this afternoon and get some pricing. Hopefully I can have Hubby run some numbers (he's really good at that kind of stuff) and see if even feasible. We could probably bring in home health cheaper but honestly she needs more structure.
Friday, March 13, 2015
on the road
Forgive the horrible grammar, spelling etc please. I'm sure it's even worse than usual since I'm typing on my phone. Driving down to Arkansas to my class reunion and I'm suffering from insomnia in a hotel room while the children are not. Not much else I can do in the dark.
I'm excited for the reunion, it should be fun. It is an all classes reunion so seeing people who graduated years ahead and behind me too. 600 people are scheduled to attend which is massive for a school that only graduated 60 or so kids a year. After the big reunion my class is getting together at a local Mexican joint.
Perusing the listing of attending I'm struck by who is not attending. It seems many of the people who didn't leave are not coming. It also striking that those who were the hot shots in school, the jocks, the homecoming court are not on the list. Not all of them of but at least my class and those classes closest to mine.
Things that make you wonder. .I guess I'll see.
Fun times. Sonny Boy just woke up and said " I puked in the bed" after a flurry of cleaning I'm watching him hug the toilet wondering what the hell I'm supposed to do with a puking kid in a strange town in a hotel room in the middle of the night alone. Motherhood makes us warriors.
I'm excited for the reunion, it should be fun. It is an all classes reunion so seeing people who graduated years ahead and behind me too. 600 people are scheduled to attend which is massive for a school that only graduated 60 or so kids a year. After the big reunion my class is getting together at a local Mexican joint.
Perusing the listing of attending I'm struck by who is not attending. It seems many of the people who didn't leave are not coming. It also striking that those who were the hot shots in school, the jocks, the homecoming court are not on the list. Not all of them of but at least my class and those classes closest to mine.
Things that make you wonder. .I guess I'll see.
Fun times. Sonny Boy just woke up and said " I puked in the bed" after a flurry of cleaning I'm watching him hug the toilet wondering what the hell I'm supposed to do with a puking kid in a strange town in a hotel room in the middle of the night alone. Motherhood makes us warriors.
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