For my birthday this year, instead of the earrings that I wanted, I got a newly remodeled bathroom. Wait, let me rephrase that: I got the stuff to remodel the bathroom.
When we moved in here, we did almost nothing to the house save from starting to live here. When I got pregnant with Alex, we painted the previously Disgustingly Pink ™ room a nice shade of yellow, and because we kind of had to (and really, we enjoyed it) we bought furniture to go in there. Then, in a fit of maternal guilt, we bought most of the stuff to decorate Ben’s room, but because I was hugely pregnant, no progress was made on it. This weekend, we finished Ben’s room. This makes 2 (almost) finished rooms (I still have to hang some stuff in Alex’s room).
After we had bought the stuff for the bathroom (read: beginning of July), Dave set on the nasty task of removing the 3 (!!!!) completely different wallpaper + ancient glue. No easy task. He promptly got sick of it (honestly, who could blame him?) and stopped working on it.
Several weeks ago, I decided that I was sick and tired of living with it, and rather than pay someone (read: I’m cheap), that I would finish stripping the glue and paper myself. I knew it would not be an easy or pleasant road.
Yesterday I began work on it and I’m guessing that it will easily be another month before it’s even remotely completed. The old glue has bonded to the drywall in certain spots, which makes me glad as fcuk that we bought the industrial sized can of spackle.
I supose that on the bright side of things, at least my best and worst quality will play a factor in finishing this project: I’m damn determined.
I must correct myself for a moment. The worst job in the world IS NOT taping for painting. It is removing old wallpaper.
I am so freaking mad right now. So mad I could cry.
Let’s back up a bit, and I’ll explain myself. I send Ben to a private school which I have previously mocked as far as their asanine stipulations for school supplies, etc. I love, love, love the education that he recieves there, it’s totally perfect for his temperment and ability level and I have no doubt that he will continue to flourish there.
Which is a fucking good thing, because year after year they make me feel like I must be the worst parent ever in the world ever. As my brain is so full of anger right now, I am unable to post except for in bullet form.
* I have gone to no less than *5* stores to get school supplies for him PLUS having to pay double for something that I could only find on the Internet.
* Most of these items are still incorrect because the stipulations placed on them are so asinie as to not actually exist in real life. For example: a three subject, wide ruled, non-perforated edged, PLASTIC COVER ONLY yellow notebook. It does not exist.
*Without mentioning it on the memo that was sent home, I needed to buy 2 pairs of shoes for him to have at school. I only had bought one, and had to run out yesterday morning to buy him a second (but completely different) pair of heavily stipulated shoes. On Day 1 of school.
* We were never informed as to what time school both began and ended, nor were we told that he would have to take a lunch. Luckily I had guessed correctly and sent him with one the first day.
*As a back-to-school treat, I bought him some packets of cookies to take in his lunch. Today, Day 2 of school he was sent home with a note requesting that cookies not be sent to school in his lunch. Why couldn’t that have been mentioned BEFORE school began?!?
*His father and his family pay for school, INSTEAD of paying regular child support to us, which has been the arrangement since he began to go at age 3. The bills are always sent to his grandparents. Year after year, they forget this and send home bills to me with wee nasty-grams on them so I must call and complain over and over about it.
I guess that the moral of the story is that I am angry that there is almost no communication between the parents and the school. While I don’t mind being proactive as a parent I feel that this is getting out of hand and I am part way considering transferring him to the public school system.
Phase One is complete, and I must share what I have learned today:
1) ABSOLUTELY WHENEVER I have something of import to complete the following day, Alexander will be up every 1-2 hours the evening before. I shudder to think of what tonight will hold, besides lots of vodka.
2) For some reason, the people who lived here before us loved to use the walls as tissues. For boogies. Yes, that’s right, I spent the morning cleaning old crusty boogers off the damn wall. Damn straight, my life is glamorous.
3) Instead of using the $2 sponge to wash the walls (because it sucked and smeared the dust around without picking it up at all), I used a Swiffer, which I almost never use what with the complete wastefullness of such a device. My parents are hippies, what can I do here (besides use reusable cloths to dust with on any other day).
4) Taping the walls is damn near impossible while hoisting a 14 pound baby in the Baby Bijorn. But wearing said baby in Bijorn while carrying a 25 pound vacuum up a flight of stairs IS possible.
5) Being without music while prepping the walls is torture. Especially since my internal record player has the entire collection of School House Rock on repeat.
6) The dog who neurotically follows me up and down the stairs each and every time I go to grab the screaming baby is actually protecting the baby, not me. He, like the baby, is extremely upset that I am deviating from my daily routine.
7) Taping the walls is possibly the worst job ever.
8) Ben has been living with a crustified cat turd under his bed for I don’t even know how long. This makes me feel very guilty.
9) It is approximately 900 degrees with 100% humidity inside Ben’s room today, which means that I smell horrifying. And I wonder why no one wants to come help me paint this weekend…
I can only imagine what tomorrow with all of it’s prime-y goodness will bring…