I don’t even know what that title means, but I am going to make it happen. I decided it.
I’ve been so blah lately. For instance, we’ve been re-doing our house. I think the adult-ness of it all is suffocating me. We got new floors installed in our home. They’re a faux-hardwood that looks exactly like real hardwood, which we chose for its price, but especially for its durability. “It won’t scratch as easily,” we said beamingly, patting ourselves on the back for being so sensible. Then we promptly proceeded to scratch the hell out it with one unfortunate highchair incident.
This is why we can’t have nice things. We are the poster children for that statement.
Anyway, thanks to my insane obsessive nature, I’ve been on my hands and knees coloring in the little scratches with oil markers, wax crayons, and Old English. It’s doing stuff like this that’s dragging me down. People, I want to live. I don’t want to obsessively color my floor anymore.
Or take for example, the scary world of home exercise equipment that we entered into. We both have a bit of post-baby weight to lose. So I bought an elliptical. But so far I’ve spent more time setting up the TV / music / entertainment area for working out than I have actually working out. But I guarantee you it will be awesome and fun to work out down there … if anyone ever does.
Our schedule has been booked up with baby playdate potluck socials, dinners with the parents, and re-arranging furniture in the living room. The other day the wife and I went on our second date alone without the baby. And where did we go? IKEA.
I think I need to step back from being such an adult. I need to stop researching “accent lighting” online and instead research…well just about ANYTHING else. I think Christmas is just the solution. I need to take some time to waste money, eat crap, and set up inflatable Ninja Turtles in my house.
And I do have one. Oh yes. Oh very yes.
So let’s have inflatable Michaelangelo be the welcoming ambassador for what I’m calling the Christmaspalooza Blowout Extravaganza Holiday Explosion. I’m going to try to post lots and lots, review new things, and get really fat and greasy on delicious Christmas cookies. I hope you will be joining me.
By the way, that header picture is not mine. I found it on Google Image Search. It belongs to this blog which I have never read in my life and don’t know who writes it, but I just want to thank you for making a simultaneously barfing and crapping reindeer Christmas sweater. I think you are brilliant. And deranged. One time I had food poisoning like this. It wasn’t pretty.