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Over the past few months, my husband and I have come to the realization that no, we’re not going on that over-seas trip because we’re having a baby!  We’re not installing new kitchen cabinetry because we’re having a baby!  We’re not fencing in our backyard because we’re having a baby!  You’re not going on that sky-diving trip because we’re having a baby and you can’t die and leave me here alone.  What?

The money we would be spending is now going to nipple cream, butt cream, blankets that you receive things in, blankets that you wrap things up in, blankets that are annoyingly called “lovies”.  Swings, play-pens or yards or packs or boxes, onesies – twosies – threesies.  If you’re a new parent, the list is overwhelming.  Will my child die if I don’t buy this brand of wipe?  Should I be concerned about this pacifier and the manufacturer’s evil plan to confuse my baby?  Is this my mother’s nipple?  IS IT? I’m so confused!  Maybe my baby should have this type of toy so that he is intellectually stimulated at a very young age, which will prove to be beneficial when he is sitting for the MCAT in 20 plus years. 

Check these out:

Staring rabbits.  Any way you turn this puzzle, the rabbits just keep staring.  Is this really interesting to a toddler?  Where are the fun colors and the cute bunny faces?  I get it.  There are several different ways to solve this puzzle.  Thank God.  I wouldn’t want my child to get his feelings hurt when it didn’t work on his first try.  Now, to go and find a little league soccer team where the coach cheers when a player runs away from the ball and tells him, “Hey, great job recognizing your feelings about that ball.  Who needs to score? Or play the game, right?  High-five.”

Look are that pretty green paint.  So soothing.   Cute bassinet, right?  Hmm…wheels may not be a great idea.

OH MY GOD.  WHAT’S WRONG WITH THAT DUCK?!

I phone, you phone, we all phone for ridiculous apps.  Hey, hun, we should totally buy that app that analyzes our baby’s cry.  I mean, I definitely want to put my overly expensive phone in the crib where our child can have explosive diarrhea all over it and then I’ll be like, Oh, no.  Baby is crying.  Let me go check my phone and see why.  Wait.  I can’t because it’s covered in poop.  What do I do now?!!  I just want to know if the app recognizes the cry of a baby who is sad she was born to such f-ing idiots.

Oh, Glory Be!  Do you think she knows there’s a baby coming out of that hole in her vest?  Maybe you’ve seen this picture before.  I searched for its origin and could not for sure connect it to www.togetherbe.com, but it seems likely they are the ones to blame.  And, they’ve taken this particular product off the website.  Wonder why?  I love alien baby heads.  This particular baby head is consuming this woman from the inside out.  But at least they are both warm.

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So far I have found a koozie with the name “Susan” stitched on it (this is for when I have beers and like to pretend I’m someone else), a Mary Engelbreit notepad that tells me “Anything Is Possible”, a glass vase, and a Valentine’s Day porch flag in our new home.  All of these things were left by the previous owners as a welcoming gift, I’m guessing.  By the way, the notepad reminded me of the white sweatshirts my mother used to dress me in.  She would iron-on a Mary Engelbreit design.  Come on.  I know I’m not the only one that had those.  And if so, everyone else in the world should be jealous.  And now that you’ve checked out ME’s website, imagine a little girl with loads of curly red hair wearing a ME sweatshirt and holding a Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper (for reminiscing purposes click here) that would look something like this:

My actual Trapper Keeper had kittens on it.  Alas, I couldn’t find a picture of my Lisa Frank design.  Believe it or not, I did have friends, which brings me to the real issue here:  Why did The Hogan Family go off the air and what can I do about it?  And we have finally settled into the new house.

 

This was the view from the front porch the morning of our move.  We moved a few things the night before and stayed in the new house like real grown ups.

A week or so after we moved in, we decided to really screw with Destro’s head and cover things in plastic.

He retaliated by sticking his head in the paint can.  You think you’re soooo clever, dontcha?

A first look at the paint color.  Fortunately, Destro’s slobber didn’t make it past the window sill. 

Taaaa Daaaaa!!!  Here is what it looks like now.  Gray paint.  It is Olympic paint called “Secret Passages.”  Other paint names I think they should consider: “My Dad’s Not-So-Hidden Stash of Porn”, “Through The Neighbor’s Window” and “That Creepy Floor At The Public Library.”

The kitchen is up next.  It has a great wall that’s perfect for my wolf mural or perhaps a tribute to Lisa Frank.

Honestly.  People need to leave some projects to the professionals.  Just because you can’t afford new hardwood floors doesn’t mean you should try to put down carpet yourself and in the process accidentally staple-gun your girlfriend’s bischon frise to the floor because you like to consider yourself a “man’s man” who can drink beer and operate pneumatic machinery.  Fluffy is not a dust bunny. And your pair of sunglasses is not the proper eye protection.  I found this post on Apartment Therapy’s site this morning and I had to laugh.  All the DIYers out there never mention the projects gone wrong.  This is somewhat of a relief for me as I am not great at “doing it myself.” I also love this comment left by a reader:

“There is the wall in my living room that I tried to paint so it would subtly mimic the clouds in an adjacent painting. Instead, the wall looks like an unfortunate victim of a party where some one drank too much Blue Curaçao and threw up all over.”

Here is my follow-up question: Was there ever a point that you stopped and said, “Huh. This sort of reminds me of 1990 – 1992.” No? And who says, “Hey, those clouds in that painting would look great on my wall. I would like to “subtly mimic” them by painting my wall the color of Blue No. 1. Let’s give her a go!”

Someone should stop me if I ever:

1. decide to “subtly mimic” the pattern Destro’s crusty dried drool makes on his water bowl mat.  That will not add a classy feel to the walls.

2. decide to blow up pictures from the wedding.  That one where the camera caught my crazy eye will not get any better cropped and larger.

3. decide to make pillows out of the jeans that no longer fit.  The pockets could hold my used tissues after I cry myself to sleep.

4. decide to make miniatures of  The Hubbs and me and our hypothetical children.  Playing with dolls is #6 on the Reasons To Get A Job/Someone Should Be Worried list.

5. decide to upholster our armchair in recycled hospital linens.  That’s not paint.  That’s a stain.

Hark!  I hear the call of a scheduled closing!  On a new house.  Not the previous house we “closed” on in December.  Pffff.  On a Monday we canceled a contract.  By Friday we were in a new contract on a new house.  And The Hubbs is still down with painting the living room gray-grey, whichever you prefer.   Speaking of design, my eyes are red and puffy and slightly crossed due to hours scouring the blogosphere for ideas.  Here are some of them (click on the pictures for links to their origin).

I will be using these orbs as a bra holder or a “brolder.”   Yes, they are positioned on the mantel in this picture.  I like to display my orbs wherever possible. 

I’m figuring out these design blogs.  There are so many of them. I think they rival food blogs.  And now I can’t decide which I like to look at more, food or style.  I have, however, decided that it isn’t a good idea to take a nap in the bushes.

Please watch your step.  Rufus, my giant rabbit has yet to be house-broken.

Oh, Scarlett.  You look divine in your old age.  And those curtains!  Girl, it is working for you.

Mirrored furniture is such a great idea.  Now, I can check my make-up while grabbing extra plates for the additional dinner guests that didn’t call.  See if they get pie.

Lastly, this chair comes with a set of magic markers.  I would not advise drawing your face on the seat.

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© Alissa C. Miles and "And So They Did...", 2010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material including pictures from posts and/or other pages without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Alissa C. Miles and "And So They Did..." with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. Basically, don't steal my stuff. Thanks. -A.

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