OMG OMG

YES please.

A Late Vocation

My IHOD-inspired (don't ask how, it just was) refurbished coat-rack.

When I was a young and single thing, carefree and flush with cash from my lucrative stints in the world of Catholic non-profits, I used to dream about the way I'd decorate my eventual home, and about the many lavish and extravagant purchases I would one day make at AFW.

Fast forward three years and two babies, and while the benjamins have stopped rolling in (in fact, most of them roll out these days, what the ...) my desire to decorate my nest has not abated.

$6 headboard from Saver's, transformed ala spray paint and glaze. Also pictured: small party animal.

In fact, as Dave would be quick to point out, it is actually fairly and neurotically intense. To the point that, 2 days after a move or the night of an arrival home from traveling, I'm frantically unpacking, moving furniture, scrubbing floors and filling bags and bags (and bags and bags) of crap for Goodwill. So that I can, you know, bring home more future bags of crap from Goodwill.

Detail on headboard. You're welcome.

So I've had to figure out a way to channel this latent desire to decorate - to create - in a way that doesn't destroy our meager 'home furnishings' budget. Because let's be honest; there's just not a line item for that one yet. For some saner, holier people, I suspect the answer might be patient, gradual accumulation of nice pieces over the course of several years/decades of marriage. For me, it's the suburban equivalent of dumpster-diving. For my husband, it is a deeply shameful exercise in humility every time I direct him to pull over in his church clothes and 'grab that thing off that person's curb' wearing a sharpie'd 'free' tatted on a piece of cardboard.

roadside freebie turned back porch coffee table. also pictured: the truck we hauled it home in.

Figuring out that #1 I liked to do this kind of thing and #2 I was passably competent with a can of spray paint was nothing short of astonishing. 

Formerly known as ugly-ass some-assembly-required Walmart bachelor piece.

After 13+ years in the public school system, I had successfully managed to avoid a single art class past the 5th grade, so I was fairly certain I was creatively crippled, doomed to spend allllll my hours of leisure time as a SAHM reading trashy novels and emptying the dishwasher. And maybe dusting off the 'ol trumpet for some souza-inspired afternoon tunes, since I was playing in the pep band while my cooler friends were throwing pots in ceramics class. Loser.

I have to admit, even Pinterest, with all its glittering promise and happy 'finished product' images made me a little nervous and not a little insecure. I couldn't replicate anything from the culinary department, I had no desire to learn how to sew (or any machine to feed fabric into), and I was certainly not about to refinish old milkcrates to look like Anthropoligie-inspired shelving for our family library...or was I?

Basically, choosing the least intimidating (in my humble opinion) means of 're-creating' something old and ugly into something new, fun, and, if not perfect, than at least passably attractive, has opened up for me an entire creative world. Instead of pallet boards, I now see potential patio furniture. An abandoned MDF bookshelf from Target looks to me suspiciously like a wine shelf waiting to be redressed. And a can of spraypaint? Liquid gold. Even if it is a more sensibly-hued turquoise or bronzed iron. (Sorry, Glamma.) And you know what? Naptime has never, ever been this fun.

Gotta be honest, one of my most amazing creations yet. Definitely a collaborative effort.

Party Animals

Davers turned the big 33 last night, so naturally, we celebrated by cooking a multi-course ethnic smorgasbord, inviting all our baby-toting friends into our new backyard, strung up some party lights, and drank boxed wine until 10. That's 10 pm, for all you hot young things who imagine you might be able to keep up with us.

also, we smoked these, which were left behind by Steubie-bound sister number 5. which are legal. but which don't make the morning-after any more pleasant than ordinary, additive-full cancer sticks.

The upshot was that our sugar-hyped almost 2-year-old slept until an unprecedented 7:45 this morning, leading us to understand that a 10 pm bedtime will yield a reasonably civilized wake up call. Thanks Joey, we're so thrilled to discover after 23 long months that you actually have the nocturnal needs of a teenager.

I also baked a bomb.com gluten free german chocolate cake, which pretty much gave everyone in attendance happiness seizures, and did not taste in any way like feet.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to combat my boxed-wine/nursing-all-night-infant hangover with some awful home brewed coffee and the looming specter of Lifeteen Mass this evening, since we all slept through our normally only mildly horrific 9:30 am Sunday obligation.

Amen. Happy Sunday.

7 Quickies

1. I spend too much time on the internets. Between my job, my penchant for stumbling across new and life-changing blogs, and my naptime addiction to HGTV.com, I have a problem. And I'm ready to admit it. That and my almost 2-year old sometimes bursts into tears when I open the laptop. Priorities, I haz them.

2. So I decided to write about it...on the internet. Yeah.

3. Parenting. Small children. Any advice/suggestions/reading recos? I am slowly transitioning from survival mode to 'maybe I should do something proactive about my child's behavior and character formation.' So far, all I've got is 'spend less time on the internets' while he is awake. (Obviously he is awake now. 10 points for me.)

4. We live 5 minutes from a Starbucks now. Damn you, green mermaid. I just can't resist your siren call, gay agenda and chemical coffee notwithstanding...

5. Joey is obsessed with fans. Oscillating or otherwise. Expect an ER-related post soon.

6. I have inherited a producing garden and smallish orchard/vineyard. There is literally produce pelting our roof and filling our walkways in its overabundance, and i have no idea what to do with it or how to care for the fecund fields of bounty in our backyard. Any tips from mamas with greener thumbs? So far I've managed to identify: peaches, apricots, strawberries, rhubarb, mint, plums, zucchini, 3 different grape varietals, and possibly some beleaguered tomatoes.

7. John Paul is pulling out not small chunks of my luscious post-partum locks and sucking energetically on my collar bone, so I bid you adieu. Please remember little Quinn and her family in your prayers today. And, as always, off to Jen's you go.

Click-it

So a dear friend from grad school sent me a heee-larious link that sums up much of my newfound excitement for this election season. Feast your eyes.

Speaking of inappropriate, I read my first ever (ever? Probably.) GQ article last night (salty sailing language disclaimer), and I have to say, I quite enjoyed it. But then, I quite enjoy Tim Tebow. And for one, glorious, nail-biting season last fall, I quite enjoyed NFL football. (Denver Broncos, you're dead to me now.)

This is one of my new must-check blogs. Seriously, what an awesome mama. And I dig her hipster playlist at the bottom of the page. Usually sneaky web playlists scare me to death with their sneak attacks, but hers is unusually good. Especially check her adoption story. Love.

Finally, thanks Grace for making yesterday a step above craptastic with your no-fail delivery of Ashley Jones' latest gem. Thank God she didn't retire After the Final Rose...

You're welcome.

P.s. We're settling into our 'new' rental house and enjoying allllll the drama that goes with a minor/major relocation. Including potty-training (against my will), a sick husband, a sleepless bebe and, of course, broken major appliances. So please forgive my appearance if you happen to see me in person sporting a 3 day old wash job on my luscious locks and wearing an odd combo of maternity/too small/too big/seasonally inappropriate mishmash of a wardrobe. Glam-tastic.