tweaking on albuterol and high on progress

note: the very theme broke my image layout! I’ll have to tweak it a little bit. For now enjoy the retrosicker.

Well, holy shit. They were done with the floor in TeenHer’s room inside of 2 hours. I’m very excited and happy except I’m having the world’s longest asthma attack because of the dust. Albuterol makes me feel like a tweaker. Or at least how I imagine a tweaker feels.

I’m supposed to go buy quarter round to go around the baseboards because the floor is hopelessly uneven, but that would mean leaving Jack here sleeping and my husband might actually divorce me if I left them here in charge of my sleeping baby. It’s a guy and his wife, I mean they have a three and one year old. It’s funny, because yesterday when they called to tell me they were on their way here, all the sudden I was like oh shit where’s the Weapon? Where’s my pepper spray? What if they home invade me? And then they pull up and before I can even get a look at them, LittleA throws open the door and introduces herself, gives them the tour, points out all our valuables. Meantime I’m eyeing the alarm pad thinking to myself what the fuck good does the panic button do when it’s way over there by the door? Like if someone home invades us via the back door, how are we supposed to get past them to hit the panic button if the alarm isn’t on?

See? Albuterol. I should spare you the inside of my head right now. Here are a few pics, nothing fancy. I don’t have time to edit.

Dormer:

closet interior and ceiling corner:

Was unaware that painting walls is work:

Blissfully forgiving; this is the day I had to hold the child down in order to put shoes on her, the same day that she screamed for 40 minutes in the hall because I wouldn’t pick her up and carry her to the couch. Thankfully, it took only 2 days to break the morning wake up and scream pattern. As long as I can sit down for a few minutes to let her put her pillow on my shoulder when she comes out from the bedroom, we’re good.