The Construction That Will Never End

So, like I mentioned in a previous post, our bathroom kicked the bucket. Everything but the tub and sink/cabinet had to be ripped out because of rot. This all started…three weeks ago, I think, and it’s still not over.

This is the construction that never ends
It just goes on and on my friends
This guy started working, moving slowly as a sloth
And he’ll keep on working forever just because
This is the construction that never ends…

(Yes, that was a lame attempt at humor.)

At first we were told it’d be done in about a week. And then “I need a few more days.” And then “It’ll be done by Thursday.” Five more days of work later, and maybe it will be done tomorrow. Judging from the slow-as-hell pace the guy doing the work is going today (well, every day, but today, too), I highly doubt that. He’s had to redo multiple things several times and if “Slowly, Slowly, Slowly Said The Sloth” were adapted to feature a human, this guy would be the new character.

And the kicker? We’re paying by the day.

So now, what started as a $50 fix in the bathroom has hit close to the $3,000 mark.

Just…fuck.

I’ve learned a valuable lesson, though — the next time we have to have work done, we’ll agree on a set price for the project and that’ll be the price, regardless of whether it’s done in five days or freaking 20.

I’m not sure which I want more — to have a functional shower in my master bathroom or to not have people that don’t live here in my house every day. (Yes, people, because sometimes he brings his four kids, which I end up having to babysit.) I’m sure anyone would feel that way, but being pretty introverted, it’s like, damn.

We’re going out of town to the beach this weekend. Screw this bathroom mess and all of the other crap that’s going on right now. We probably shouldn’t be spending extra money, but $200 is a drop in the bucket compared to what has already been spent! My husband and I are both tense, anxious, and both feeling rather depressed over this. Gah. Icing on the cake — tomorrow is the dreaded physical. After losing quite a bit of weight, I’ve put back on almost 10 pounds (yay, emotional eating), so I’m super dreading this.

It has been a weird month. We’ve definitely had a trying month (and some other stuff has been going on that I haven’t written about yet), but so have every single one of my close friends. It’s like January and February have decided to be “The shit hits the fan” months. This even-number year is feeling more like an odd-number year.

How has your 2018 been so far?

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There’s A New Fairy In Town

I’ve written about how I’m not a fan of Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy in a past post. Despite that, there’s a new fairy (well, two) in town, and it’s one of my own creation.

Before my surgery, I was still rocking Baby Girl to sleep at night. I know, I know — at three she was too old, but she’s so small, and we both loved it…but I wasn’t supposed to pick her up for a few days following surgery, she doesn’t like my husband to rock her, so it was time to make the transition.

She was none too happy about this.

“I not gonna do that!” she told me when I mentioned her lying down in the bed to go to sleep.

I tried talking to her about being a big girl, about reading books and stuff before we go to sleep, how her dad or I will lie down with her, but that didn’t do any good. And then I had an idea.

“If you lie down in your bed, the Big Girl Fairy will come to see you.”

Little Man was listening to the conversation. “The WHAT?”

“The Big Girl Fairy. She’s like the Tooth Fairy, only she comes when little girls do big girl things.” BG knew about the Tooth Fairy from Eli, and she has been very upset over not losing teeth to get a visit, so this was appealing to her.

“Oooh, the Big Girl Fairy?” BG asked. “What she gonna bring?”

“Probably a quarter.”

“Maybe a new PJ Masks toy?”

I shook my head. “The Big Girl Fairy isn’t made out of money. She can’t bring toys every night you do what you’re supposed to do, but she can bring something small, like a quarter. You can save your quarters and buy a treat for yourself later.”

Baby Girl thought about this for a moment. “I really want her to bring me chocolate coins.”

“She can do that!” I said, happy that she was getting on board and not thinking about the fact that would mean candy the first thing in the morning.

“Maybe the Big Girl Fairy can visit me, too?” Little Man asked, grinning.

“She not gonna see you, Little Man, she the Big Girl Fairy, not the Big  Boy Fairy!” Baby Girl informed him.

And so the Big Girl Fairy was born. Baby Girl has been lying down at night with no issue, but she still wants one of us to stay with her until she falls asleep. After about a month, the Big Girl Fairy has stopped visiting for that, though. She now plans to visit if BG goes to bed by herself, plus she visits for trying new foods.

The Big Girl Fairy also has a sister named the Good Girl Fairy. She brings quarters (and only quarters) for behaving and doing chores. For whatever reason, receiving a quarter from the Big Girl Fairy for picking up her toys and helping out is far preferable to receiving a quarter from me.

I am embarrassed that I’ve had to resort to making up fairies to get Baby Girl to do things/transition to things — especially being someone who was like “nah” on Santa at first — but it is what it is. I think it will be easy to phase out the fairies when they’ve served their purpose, though.

Did any of y’all do crazy stuff to get your kids to be more compliant?

23 Questions With Little Man And Baby Girl

A little over two years ago, I did the 23 Questions survey with Little Man. It’s time to do an updated survey for Little Man and get Baby Girl in on it to see what answers she comes up with to these questions. For the record, Little Man is almost 10 and Baby Girl is 3.

Enjoy.

1. What is something mom always says to you?

LM: Cuss words. (Laughs) “Clean up your room!”

BG: “I love you.”

2. What makes mom happy?

LM: Saying cuss words. (Laughs) Cuddling with us, being around me and Baby Girl. 

BG: Hugging.

3. What makes mom sad?

LM: Not saying cuss words. (Laughs) Being around smelly dogs.

BG: Yelling. Ooooh!

4. How does your mom make you laugh?

LM: With your blog and Yo Mama jokes.

BG: Her scares me.

5. What was your mom like as a child?

LM: I have no idea.

BG: Like Bilbo (our dog).

6. How old is your mom?

LM: 34

BG: 12

7. How tall is your mom?

LM: I have no idea.

BG: This big. (She steps on her tip toes and holds up her arms.)

8. What is her favorite thing to do?

LM: Watch TV.

BG: Work.

9. What does your mom do when you’re not around?

LM: Not anything good.

BG: Hop your butt around.

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?

LM: Being the best mom ever.

BG: Prize.

11. What is your mom really good at?

LM: Being the best mom ever.

BG: Working.

12. What is your mom not very good at?

LM: Being the worst mom ever.

BG: Eating.

13. What does your mom do for a job?

LM: Sit back, relax, and watch TV. (Laughs) You predict the weather and write and get paid.

BG: Work. You do the “ah-ti-cles”

I do write, but I do not predict the weather.

14. What is your mom’s favorite food?

LM: Coke, easily.

BG: French fries.

15. What makes you proud of your mom?

LM: Everything.

BG: Working.

16. If your mom were a character, who would she be?

LM: Godzilla. Because you’re evil and big. Not big in a fat way, but big like big and tall. 

BG: Spiderman.

17. What do you and your mom do together?

LM: Play chess, watch TV, talk. 

BG: Play and puzzles

18. How are you and your mom the same?

LM: In every way except for gender. 

BG: Hugging.

19. How are you and your mom different?

LM: In gender and that’s it. 

BG: (Makes a goofy face)

20. How do you know your mom loves you?

LM: You’re my mother, duh.

BG: You kiss me.

21. What does your mom like most about your dad?

LM: Everything. 

BG: You do something funny

22. Where is your mom’s favorite place to go?

LM: Home.

BG: Chuck E. Cheese’s with me.

23. How old was your mom when you were born?

LM: No clue. 

BG: 3

When Things Go Wrong, They Go WRONG

We decided to do a few upgrades/repairs around the house after the holidays were over. We wanted to put down new flooring in our hall bathroom, paint the kid’s room, paint the cabinets and install new hardware, and fix what appeared to be a stain at the bottom of a wall in the bathroom and paint that room, too. It would take a little time, but wouldn’t cost more than $350-$400, which isn’t bad to give those rooms a bit of a face lift.

And this is the part where God LOLs.

That little stain on the wall in the bathroom? Rot. Husband cut that section of wall off to find the…frame?…completely rotted. Damn. Not the end of the world, but it would take extra work for sure.

So he started pulling up/cutting out the rest of the wall/frame/whatever that stuff is and found that the rot extended all through the stone-tiled shower, to the wall between the shower and our bedroom, and into the tiled bathroom floor. The glass-tiled shower had to be torn down with a sledgehammer, the whole shower has to come up, and all of the flooring has to come up, plus the walls and at least a little of our bedroom floor.

Fuck.

Fuuuuck.

FUUUUCCCCKKKK.

That bathroom literally looked like something out of a magazine and now it’s gone (or partly gone, the rest will be gone soon enough) and he a) hasn’t found the leak that caused all that rot (fuck you, slab foundation add-on) and b) he isn’t entirely sure that the rot doesn’t extend much into our bedroom because he hasn’t pulled up much of the wood floor yet.

My husband kept saying, “Well, it could be worse, XYZ could be rotted, too,” and then lo and behold, it was. Eventually he stopped saying “Well, it could be worse” since that seemed like some high level jinx.

That little $400 or less job just turned into at least $1500, and that’s just buying a new cheap shower and floor, plus whatever the labor costs is going to be to hire someone to help with that.

Still not the end of the world, I guess, and I’ll try to be thankful that at least this small crisis is something we have savings for because my husband has a good job and we have a roof over our heads and food in our bellies and (whatever else I’m grateful for here), but still…all the fucks.

In other news, the pain from the surgery has gone down a ton, so yay! I definitely have some residual hearing, enough to make out songs on my phone when it’s pressed up against my ear, but it is very weird/warped right now. This is making me realize that even though the hearing in the ear I had implanted was bad, it still made a big difference. My activation is in about three weeks, so hopefully it starts off good!

**Everyone keep your fingers crossed that the rot ends at the bedroom entrance.**

 

(Drugs) That’s What I Want

“It’s an easy surgery. You might not even need to take Tylenol.”

This is what the surgeon told me regarding the pain related to getting a cochlear implant. I was a little surprised, since I knew I’d need stitches and all, but cool — next to no pain and I’ll be back to normal in a couple of days, aside from waiting for the swelling and stuff to go down.

Not even.

The first day was the easiest. I was sore and had a headache, but that’s to be expected. Halfway through the second day is when it hit me and I was thankful that I filled my Vicodin prescription. Holy hell. This shirt hurts. It’s like the worst ear infection I’ve ever had combined with a burning feeling on my scalp, my jaw is locking up, plus muscle pain from being in an awkward position during surgery.

Wimp! 

That’s what I thought at first. Now, I’ve walked around on a broken foot all day before, gotten tattoos, dealt with gallstones throughout a pregnancy…I didn’t think that I have a low pain threshold, but if all I needed was a Tylenol and I was still hurting, then clearly I have gotten weak lately, right?

Maybe not.

I went on some message forums for cochlear implant users and found that most people needed more than a Tylenol in the week or so after. Whew, so it’s not just me. That doesn’t exactly make my ear/head feel better, but it does help my ego a bit. (And really, I can deal with pain, it’s just when it catches me off guard like this…)

Today I found out exactly why it hurts so much. Skip to 2:19 to see the real deal.

They drilled a hole in that bone! OUCH!

I thought it was just a “We’ll make an incision, slip some implant shit in there, and stitch it up” deal. Nope. Now I don’t feel so wimpy for hurting at least, but it’s a good thing I didn’t watch that video before going through with the procedure.

My husband counted and I’ve got 22 stitches. Little Man said it reminds him of Darth Vader’s scar (except for the location of it and all, I guess), and being compared to Lord Vader is always cool. I would share the picture that I took and sent to my friends and family to gross them out, but I’ll be nice and skip it. Okay, maybe it’s less about being nice and more about not wanting to post my oily hair on the Internet. Maybe.

All right. Enough bitching from me. I’m off to neglect my house and watch more Netflix.