the new house: first floor before and after

We've spent the last week painting and moving our stuff into the new house, and we're not even finished yet!  Here are the before and after photos I remembered to take, first floor first.

The family room before:

And after.  We painted the walls "Winter Gates" by Benjamin Moore and they turned out perfect.

The tv will be mounted onto the wall, and the toys will eventually be put away.  The mantel is "as is" for the moment since we are going to replace it with the salvaged barn wood.

Kitchen before, with a nice shot of the hubs surveying the amount of work to be done...

After, with the wall above the cabinet painted the same "Winter Gates."

Dining room before...

And after!  The hub picked out the green, and it is a beautiful color - "Mountain Lane" by Benjamin Moore.  It goes perfectly with our curtains!  Ignore the mess, as we keep needing the tools so we can't put them away yet.  I also got it into my thick skull to finish Jessica's baby quilt, and the dining room table is the only clear spot to do so.

Curtains from Lowes, flanked by the grandfather clock and the random box of stuff we still haven't put away.  

The basement and garage are the only areas left to unpack, and it has been slow-going to say the least.  Getting Britton to stay in bed has been hard since we've been here, and I'm trying to be patient.  But dealing with her is cutting into my "finish the unpacking" time.

hair today, gone tomorrow

Look at this hair...

Other than having her bangs trimmed (the first time days after her first birthday), Britton has never had a haircut.  Not because I haven't wanted to, but Britton goes back and forth on wanting it cut.  And I would so miss those curly ends.  This weekend we went to Memaw and PawPaw's house, and Britton told Memaw she wanted her hair cut.  Memaw used to cut hair, so unlike me, she actually owns haircutting scissors and knows what she is doing.

Memaw propped Britton up on the sink, handed her a bag of make-up to entertain her, and went to work.  

Britton's first real haircut......

It's a great length now.  It no longer gets caught under her arms, or stuck under her carseat straps.  And Britton has expressed no regret (unlike the whole balloon incident) so we're happy.  Her first real haircut.

i want my balloon back: a lesson

This afternoon, we all took Sadie outside for her bathroom break, because Britton refused to not be included and I wanted out of the teeny tiny hotel room. Britton brought a helium princess balloon with her. The hub and I reminded Britton to hold onto the ribbon tightly, and the hub offered to tie it to her wrist, to which Britton replied no.

She raced to the door, and slammed it open for Sadie.  I reminded her again to hold onto her balloon, but she just kept running.  We got to the lawn area, Sadie went off to do her business, and Britton asked me if she could let her balloon go.  It went like this:

Britton:  "Can I let go of my balloon, Mommy?"

Me:  "If you let go of it, it will fly into the sky and you can't ever get it back."

Britton:  "I want to let it go.  I want it to fly up into the sky."

Me:  "You can let it go if you want to, but just remember that it won't come back."

So, she let go and we watched it fly.  Then, as every parent has predicted by now, SHE WANTED THE DAMN BALLOON BACK NOW.  Tears, people, tears.  Sobs.  And watching it drift away, while poetic, just rubbed salt into the wound.

And that's when it occurred to me:  this is raising a kid.  You let them take the reigns, tell them what the results will be, and place the decision in their hands.  And you hope for the best.  And if it all goes to pot, if they make the wrong decision which kids are apt to do, you wipe away tears and offer hugs.  All while pointing out that your way was the right way and why do you have to be so stubborn and prove me right again and again and again, and do it your way even if you know that it won't turn out well (the last part in my head, of course).


She asked me to buy her another princess balloon.  I won't.  Not to be mean, but Britton needs to learn that letting go of the balloon means the balloon goes away forever, so to speak.  That decisions can be final.  That consequences, both good and bad, follow.

P.S. If you've been reading since the beginning, you've just read my 501st post.  Thanks for sticking with me.  What started out as a way to keep far-away soon-to-be grandparents in the loop has turned into a scrapbook of sorts for Britton.  There is no way I could have remembered it all, and I hope you've enjoyed my asinine stories as much as I've enjoyed writing them.

three years old

We started our birthday celebration bright and early this morning. The hub and I left some small wrapped gifts in the living room for Britton to discover this morning (kind of like Christmas) and I bought some helium balloons with Tinkerbell, Disney Princesses, and random "Happy Birthday!" Britton woke up 15 minutes early, and wandered into the living room, all wild-haired and wide-eyed. She took in the balloons, then the gifts, then the princess wrapping paper, and said, "Today's my birthday?" Oh yes, Britton. Today is the day!

To a three-year-old, fingernail polish and lip gloss rings are the best presents ever...

I took Britton to school, then headed out to pick up her birthday cake.  I went back to her school at afternoon snack time, and helped with her "party"!  I brought party hats, blowers, stickers, and princess plates.  It was also another girl's birthday, so we made snack time a joint birthday party.  It was great that we could do this, so Britton really felt like she had a birthday party.  A hotel lobby isn't an ideal place for a party, and honestly, I didn't want our temporary living situation to take away from her celebration.

Leaving school was a whole other matter, as SOMEONE decided to stop being the nice appreciative birthday girl, and threw fits and attitude my way.  She refused to get into the car, refused to even walk outside, tried to claw her way back into the school building, and ended it all by slapping me in the face while I was struggling to buckle her into her carseat.  I have a hard time justifying spanking if the message is "we don't hit," but I was beyond mad at her behavior.  So I finished wrestling her into the carseat, sternly told her that we don't hit, and promptly started crying in the daycare parking lot.

Sometimes you just hit your limit, you know?  But I didn't want Britton's birthday to be ruined, even if it was her own behavior that was ruining it.  I ignored her the entire way home, put on the new Laurie Birkner CD she had received just that morning, and by the time we got home she had calmed down.  I told her we were trading apologies - I was sorry for yelling and she was sorry for hitting.  And it may have been the quickest apology I've ever received from her.

We went upstairs and did her concrete handprint (every year, the same kit).  Then Britton opened up her remaining presents (some clothes from Disney for our annual Disney trip - she's wearing her Tinkerbell dress below) and Cammy's gift (Minnie Mouse below).  Under Sadie's close supervision, of course.

Once the hub got home from work we had a quick dinner and then on to cake!  I had bought a miniature Ariel doll to go on the cake, but Britton spotted it not-so-hidden on the top of the fridge.  I figured she wouldn't care if it made it to the cake or not, so I handed it over.

The hub and I started singing "Happy Birthday to You!" and Britton refused to blow out the candle!  In an effort to prevent the smoke detector from going off (it goes off every time I so much as turn on the oven) the hub "helped" Britton blow out her candle.  She considered that a good solution!

Finally, we gave Britton her big present - a dollhouse!  It's from KidKraft, wooden with 19 pieces of wooden furniture, and it was a hit!  Funny story - Aunt Jessica bought Britton a family for her dollhouse, but the package has yet to arrive.  So while I was scouring for party hats and balloons at Dollar Tree (because, oddly, Party City had no hats and no helium) I saw a miniature doll.  And I snatched it up on the off chance that the local postal workers didn't feel like walking the five feet to my post office box.  

So Britton peered into the dollhouse, and first thing she says is, "Oh, a baby!"  I had laid the doll on the top bunk bed in the house.  Then she looks around and goes, "But there's no mom?  No dad?"  I assured her they were just late to the party, so to speak.

And to further prove to the hub that I can't have nice things, see that bow attached to the top of the dollhouse that I just had to add?  The adhesive won't come off without taking the roof with it.  So it's staying.  And at this point in the night, the Little Mermaid shirt was put on top of the Tinkerbell dress.  She's got my fashion skills!

Dear Britton,

I had no idea end-of-two-almost-three would be as hard for you as it has been.  Don't get me wrong - you're a happy child, first and foremost.  But you yearn for a freedom you can't handle quite yet.  And you so want to do it all yourself.  Trust me, in time, you will.  You'll do it all.  But for now, I'm still going to follow you as you ride your bike, I'm still going to hold your hand in the parking lot, I'm still going to yell at you to stop when you've run too far.  

You have taken to Sadie just as I once mused on this blog - you two are thick as thieves.  In fact, when you've lately refused to get dressed in the morning, it was me pretending to have Sadie hand you clothing that got you to get dressed.  And when that stopped working, we just put you in your next-day clothes instead of pajamas at bedtime.  Because when I only have an hour with you before I have to go to work, I don't want to spend it frustrated and yelling.

Three birthdays, three different states: first - Oklahoma, second - Texas, third - Pennsylvania.  You've weathered all these major changes better than I admit that I have.  You are a leader in your class at daycare, and you made friends with your classmates so quickly.  But you still ask about your previous teachers and classmates, and I don't have the heart to keep telling you that you aren't going to see them again.  And turning three only seven weeks after starting at your new daycare, you're now being transitioned into another new class.  But your teachers report you're transitioning well, and I don't know any different to think they aren't being truthful.  You are resilient.  You are capable of handling change.  As routine-based as you are, and believe me, you are, you have handled these changes remarkably well.  

Britton, you are my light, my supreme couch cuddle buddy who demands her arms and back be tickled every night and I oblige because I used to pay your Aunt Jessica $1 a minute to tickle my arms and back.  You delight in things my adult years have taken away, and it is through your eyes, your laugh, your observations that I get to glimpse my own first years of life, a time I will never remember.  You are stubborn, man are you stubborn, and hardheaded, but that only further reminds me that you are in fact your mother's daughter.  I love you, I love you, a million times I love you.

Mommy

i'm going for a gold medal in couch surfing

Like most people in the world who own a tv, the hub and I like watching the Olympics. Sometimes I only make it through the opening ceremonies, like when Britton was little and demanded more attention.  But now, with so much coverage at night I'm finally able to pry the remote from Britton's hands and watch it myself. I love the swimming and the running, but my favorite hands down is gymnastics. Who could forget that magic Kerri Strug vault where she landed on some broken/sprained/injured ankle and Coach Bella carried her off the mat?  I'm too young to remember Mary Lou Retton (finally, too YOUNG for something!) but I do remember that vault.

 Somehow, even though my head knows better, I figure I could learn to swim well, run well, even play volleyball well. Not good mind you, but good enough. But gymnastics? It's past my demographic. Put it on the list of "Things Carrie Will Never Accomplish," along with moving to New York City and liking red wine.

Britton watched some of the gymnastics portions on Sunday, and wants to do it all badly.  "Flip me like the girls!  No, like them!"  To prevent Britton from attempting tumbling passes across the yard, the hub taught her how to do a backbend off of the couch, into a handstand, then flip her legs over her head.  She's now a pro at it!  She started doing her ballet positions this morning, and I know now that I will be stuck signing her up for ballet and gymnastics when every other fool is doing it, all because of the Olympics!  Now I just need to find a dance school that offers classes on Saturday morning.  But really, how awesome is it when your kid gets excited about learning something new?

Of course, if gymnastics doesn't work, there's always swimming......

a pre-birthday celebration

Britton's and PawPaw's birthdays fall mere days apart, so Memaw and PawPaw came over yesterday to give Britton her birthday presents. It also gave us a chance to give PawPaw his gifts too. We know how much PawPaw loves his grill, and our local Ace Hardware has a huge Weber section, so we got him some grill accessories and tools! Britton helped me wrap his gifts, and even cut the wrapping paper with her scissors. The tape was a whole other story, so suffice it to say, we got them wrapped, but we're now out of tape!

 Britton has to wait until Thursday for presents from us, so she was ready to get into her presents from Memaw and PawPaw. First on the list - a new scooter! She loved it and seemed to already know how to ride one. Turns out a boy in her class at school brings his scooter for "bike day," so she's seen him ride his scooter. Of course, it started raining while we were outside, and we had to bride Britton to come inside. She did not want to stop riding her scooter! She also got a loom set, a memory game, some clothes, and a new folding chair.

Before the rain...

The never-ending rain just meant we had to scoot inside.  Probably the only good thing about long hotel corridors!

idle hands...

We are still hurrying up to wait, wait out the never-ending mortgage process and waiting to get into our house.  So of course, to pass the time, I've been shopping for the house.  We changed our pillows for the family room, and hit up Pier 1 to get lighter and brighter pillows, though still in the same color scheme.

I've also had time to think about our new master bathroom. As it stands now, the master bathroom is a sea of blah white. The tiles on the floor are 4 inch white squares, the vanity is white formica, and the toilet is tiny. Functionally, it doesn't need changes because everything works. But aesthetically it doesn't cut it. So we're planning to have it remodeled this winter. Our must-haves? Take the shower unit out and put in real tile, new floor, new vanity, and a claw foot tub. I've always wanted a claw foot tub, and this is my chance! Also, the chimney runs through the bathroom, so I'm going to look into having the drywall removed and exposing the brick, if possible.

Of course, renovations would be months away, but I need to put my ornery mind to use!  And planning has always given me a sense of control.  I'm crossing my fingers we can close early, and I can go ahead and use this energy to paint!