It's been almost a year since we sold our beautiful home in SC, and moved to a small condo in NJ. A couple of weeks ago, we began the move to a house, in another town. We're super excited because it's really hard to find a house for rent in NJ, for under $2,000 a month, that's not gross, and allows you to have pets. And we're just not ready to buy anything up here yet. I was afraid the kids wouldn't like the new place, because they actually had huge bedrooms at the condo, but even they appreciate the roomy kitchen and extra living space. And we have a fenced backyard now, so I can shove the dogs or kids outside and say, "Get some fresh air!"
Which is what I should have done before THIS happened:
The kids were running through the house, shooting each other with Nerf guns, when suddenly, there was a great commotion. Now, I don't ask a lot of questions about what goes on around here, because frankly, I don't want to know everything. But I was soon given some information about a Nerf dart floating hopelessly in the toilet. I asked, "Who shot it into the toilet?" And a quick confession flowed freely from Elizabeth's mouth. So my response was, "She who shot it, gets it out," which I thought was gonna be the end of things, but then I heard there were further negotiations going on down the hall, which I was later told, went like this: "Noah, you are gonna HAVE to get it out somehow, because there's NO WAY I'm putting my hands in your poop." (She's never gotten over accidentally grabbing one of his poops when they were in the bathtub, when they were little) So the presence of poop was a detail I was unaware of. She'd shot him while he was on the pot. Who shoots a person mid-poo? And if his little behind was covering the hole, how did it even get in there? They explained that it happened during some process of ducking to escape the heavy rapid Nerf fire. I know how terrifying foam can be.
Soon Elizabeth walked away, and all was quiet. Noah went in for the dart. I began to listen carefully, because I know this child, and I knew to be ready for what would happen next. One might would assume that once the dart was retrieved, that it went straight into the trash. If you know Noah, you know that didn't happen. Noah's not gonna throw a cheap toy away, just because it was swimming in feces. So then I was all, "Noah, throw the dart in the trash." And he was all, "But why?? I washed it when I washed my hands." At least he thought to wash his hands. With much effort, we finally got it into the trash, but I can't be certain that it didn't find it's way out, and back into the Nerf supply. Elizabeth.. play at your own risk.
So the house is a 1969 ranch style home, which thankfully has been completely updated inside, though there's nothing I love more than a nice retro feel. There is one wall that still has brown panelling on it. I'm shocked by this, given how that's the only outdated thing here. We may change that very soon but I'm gonna be sure and ask the owner first, because I've known some people who were very much attached to their faux wood wall products, as bizarre as that may seem. And it would appear that there are no restrictions in this community because one of the neighbors doesn't like to cut their grass, and another still has Christmas lights up, so everyday we are in the Christmas spirit. "Why are you living this way, Amy?" you might ask. This is Jersey, baby! We've actually talked about buying it, if the owner decides to sell, because we really like it! And you have no idea how much thought I've given to having a few strategically placed plastic pink flamingos on the front lawn. The possibilities of how to decorate with them, throughout each season, are endless. Imagine this: Christmas comes, and I have pink flamingos in Santa hats, pulling a sleigh full of toys. Or next to a lovely nativity scene. Also, they could hang out with Pedro the turkey, for Thanksgiving... Guard nests of Easter eggs in the Spring... And can't you just see them standing proudly next to a snowman in the Winter, wearing their little knitted hats and scarves? They'd be that perfect pop of color on an otherwise rather monochromatic snowy day. It'd be like a tropical Alaska. And I'm not joking. If I find some, this will happen. I've spent too many years living in stuffy, snotty-pot neighborhoods with tons of ridiculous rules. Now I'm free to have trailer park plastic birds, and out of season decorations, and I intend to make the most of it. And fourth of July is coming... how about flamingos with bunting strung from beak to beak?? Recently, I heard on the news that you can defend yourself with a plastic flamingo, by attempting to impale a bad guy with it's wiry legs. At least that's what somebody tried. I can't imagine this need arising, but it does seem nice that these birds pull double duty as decor, and a weapon.
Before we could move in, we were forced to paint, mainly because Noah's room was hot pink, with flowers. So he chose a lovely shade of green, which he matched up to his stuffed alligator "Bob's" eyeball color, but our friend Dan realized it was also exactly the color of the Grinch. So now we call it the Grinch room, which doesn't make Noah really happy but that's what happens when you insist on a freakishly green room. And Noah kinda IS a grinch.. Then Steve told me he wanted our room to be brown, so I excitedly chose brown paint, and then they painted, and then I found out that brown was NOT what he wanted, but after seeing it on the wall, he liked it. So I was all, "Wait... You said you WANTED it brown! You're the reason it's brown." And he was all, "I meant brown like we had in SC." .... "You mean, a medium tan???" But now we both really love the brown, and I think it's also important to mention, the shade was called "Wild turkey." Clearly, it was meant to be. It looks like really dark chocolate milk, and you can't go wrong with that. And with the wall being brown, and the duvet cover being black and ivory, I decided I should bring in some color-- which I knew could be accomplished using bright pillows and PAPER LANTERNS.
Steve should probably learn to describe colors the way I do, as in these recent descriptions I gave to others about rooms in the house:
"Our bathroom is a muted limish sagey color."
"For the kitchen I chose a very soft 1950s seafoam green, because I like it, and because I thought it might remind me of the ocean, though it may be a little green for that. But it's very soothing. The lemon yellow that was there made my eyes and brain hurt."
"E's room is now a very dark plum, grapish color. Her zebra and pinks will pop beautifully."
"The garage is the scariest green I have ever seen."
See, I bet you can totally visualize all of those colors.
So anyway, we got everything painted already, except for the garage. I just won't go in there for now. And since I sold my dining room furniture to some morons before we left SC, we're gonna put our black-light foosball table in the dining room, because that's how awesome we are. I have the rest of my life to get new furniture, but my kids will only be young for a little while longer.
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| I used the worst camera ever to take these, but notice the neutral... neutral... neutral, then BAM! Red on the ceiling! I'm still working on finding some pillows. |
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| And here you can see the green one too. And they're not actually made of paper. It's some kind of material. I'm gonna put flameless candles with timers inside them. Genius. You're welcome, Steve. |
