We spent all weekend driving back and forth between my parent’s house and our new home. My parents watched the boys for us so we could get work done without little ones attempting to swallow nails. It’s a win-win situation. There was a ton of work to do (and still more to be done), and so after twenty hours on the road, we got quite a bit accomplished. On Friday Taylor headed down to meet the countertop guys. In case you’ve forgotten, we went with Glacier White Corian. At $39 a square foot, it was in our budget and we loved that it’s non-porous and impermeable to bacteria. It’s low maintainence, and it should look nice for years to come. Once our countertops were installed, I felt even better about our decision. We went with a softly squared edge. I love it. It looks so modern and retro at the same time. Perfection.

We chose a seamless, undermount sink. I despise stainless steel sinks. My problem has nothing to do with how they look because I think they’re beautiful. It also has nothing to do with taking care of them (I hear they are super easy to maintain). But I have this weird texture thing, and the feel of stainless steel kind of makes my skin crawl. I’m weird. I know.

We also got a coat of paint on the walls and cabinets. I wish these pictures showed the paint color better. They kind of blend together in this picture. Admittedly, they are very similar, but I love the monochromatic look. They are about two shades apart (Benjamin Moore Antiguan Sky on the cabs and Spring Mint on the walls), but there is a definite difference in person. Both walls and cabinets need at least one more coat. We haven’t even touched the trim or ceiling. Both of which are in desperate need of some work.

You can see a bit of our old light fixture pointing out in this picture. It’s a forty-year-old creaky fan that emits this odd goldish light no matter what light bulbs are in it. It’s being replaced on the next trip down. We’re going with a white globe pendant and recessed lighting. YES.

What’s that, you say? You noticed the sparkling new floors too? Oh, why yes. My super hunky husband also managed to get new floors in the entire kitchen. BY. HIM. SELF. Man on a mission, y’all.

Finally, I tackled our front door. Taylor had to replace it this visit. We brilliantly left our house key in Virginia. So after getting into the house, we replaced the front door and lock. Both needed replacing anyway. The door had a crack down the middle that looked like someone had attempted to kick it in at some point. We also don’t care for glass on doors. It’s much safer to have a solid door. Even with glass windows around it, a solid door makes a difference. We also picked out a oil-rubbed bronze cipher lock by Schledge. I love how sturdy it is. That thing is like a super-duper dead bolt. Plus, no one can break in a window and turn a knob. If you don’t have the code, you ain’t getting in, buddy.

I painted it bright yellow. Full Sun by Eddie Bauer matched to Valspars Duramax paint. And it is gorgeous.

Don’t you love our klassy doormat? I tossed out the old one because it was heinous. And then it rained. And we had no doormat. Brilliant, again. We improvised. Also, I’m fighting Taylor on the storm door. He likes it. I hate it. I feel like I should compromise because he pretty much lets me decide everything else. Like maybe spray paint the hardware? It wouldn’t be so offensive if the hardware didn’t look like it was from 1992. Which it probably is, by the way. The color of the door seems kind of washed out by this picture. It’s a vibrant, lovely yellow, in person.

And…surprise!

I painted the inside of the door, too. This picture shows the color a little better. I love this pop of color in our foyer. LOVE. Like, I stood back and kind of teared up looking at it. I’m such a wuss, but it really makes me happy.

We have tons to do. After getting the new countertops installed, we decided we needed to go ahead and do a subway tile backsplash. We’re really looking forward to getting that put up because we think it will kind of “finish” the kitchen like we’ve envisioned. Everything needs more paint. We’re replacing several windows. All light fixtures are coming down soon. Recessed lighting is going up at the end of March. Most every room still needs paint. The back of the house hasn’t even been touched, and we have to rip out all the carpet and install floors there. We have trim and mouldings that need to be put up. There is quite a bit of work that needs to be done on the outside of the house. Lots and lots and LOTS to do. But it’s coming together, and I’m beginning to worry less about it not being ready to move into come May. I think if we can get the serious work done (like floors, plumbing, lighting, and painting the boys’ room), we’ll be a-okay in a couple of months.

So what do you think? Are you feeling our yellow door? Are you with Taylor on the storm door, or do you hate it? Even though it all looks a bit rough, hopefully you can see our vision forming!

(So no one thinks I’m trying to “steal” from anyone else, Young House Love also painted their door yellow. I adore their blog, and I have used them for several inspirational ideas…just like the thousands of other people who follow them. I orignally spoke of their yellow door HERE).

We rushed different sororities and had different groups of friends, but it never failed that we would be bent over laughing on Saturday night at the Theta Chi house. Bubba is one of those girls who lights up the room with her smile and has a laugh that is contagious to everyone around her.

We saw each other through make ups and break ups. Through tears and joy. Through exams, run-ins with our campus police, and through one bad decision that resulted in the ceiling of an academic building having to be replaced. She was one of the first people I called when Taylor proposed at the gazebo in Charleston, and she cried harder than most because she was so happy two of her best friends were tying the knot.

By my senior year, Bubba was one of the closest people to my heart. Over a big beer at El Jal Mexican Restuarant, I asked her to be my bridesmaid. We drunkenly wrapped our arms around each other and cried in the booth. It was embarrassing and awesome all at once. We spent the rest of the year wedding planning around tests and parties and graduation. She stood by me on the most important day of my life while I promised forever in front of God, family, and friends.

Then she caught the bouquet at our reception.

She has since been there through the birth of both my sons. She’s always been the first friend to visit, bearing gifts and kisses, for her “nephews.”

Bubba is now engaged to the love of her life, and I have the honor of being able to stand next to her on her wedding day. I couldn’t think of anything that would mean more than to be able to be by her side while she promises her forever to the wonderful man who is about to become her husband. And on Saturday, I got to drive down and celebrate Bubba with one of our friends, Morgan. Morgan is also a bridesmaid, and together we hosted a Monogram Shower for Bubs.

This journey is just beginnging for Bubs, and I am blessed to be in her life. I can’t wait to see her through the birth of her children. I can’t wait to see how our friendship will continue to grow and change and evolve. We have plans of family vacations together and nights on the back porch with bottles of wine and memories.

When I think on my friendship with Bubba, and I always hope my sons will experience such lasting love like a best friend. I pray they will have groomsmen who stand next to them on their wedding day, who know them through and through, and who are proud to know them. I pray they will find the love and laughter that they deserve. Because even though God, the bride, and the groom are the most important people on a wedding day, those bridesmaids and groomsmen are pretty darn awesome, too.

All over my Pinterest feed, I’m seeing these awesome, brilliant, better-than-mamas-than-me ideas. Things like, homemade Valentine’s Day Oreo things or Red Velvet brownies. Stuff that you can probably buy at your local grocery store or maybe Michaels or HomeGoods, but no, instead you must make all things. Because, obviously, your family doesn’t know how much you love them unless you’re making tissue paper heart covered mason jars,

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and color coordinating your entire Valentine’s Day outfit down to your underwear.

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Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not making fun of the people who do these crafty ideas. Obviously, they are people who are much more organized than myself. They will fill their children’s holidays with memories of cookie making and a big “to-do” of everything. I envy these people. I want to be them. But then, Valentine’s Day (or really, any holiday) draws nearer, and the thought of spending extra money on tissue paper and craft supplies kind of makes my skin crawl. I’d rather buy a box of chocolates, make a card, and call it a day (Okay…buy a card. Samesies).

But still, on that morning of a holiday, when people are pinning their totally awesome ideas and posting pictures on Facebook of their hand drawn art and baked goods and talking about how they got up at 4:00AM to make pancakes from scratch and cut hearts into them, I can’t help but think, “Damn homie, way to ruin it for the rest of us.”

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Some people actually make Holiday wreaths for everything. Including Valentine’s Day. I mean, how cute is this?

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Basically, Pinterest reminds me of all the crafty goodness I will probably never ever do.

Instead, I went to Target yesterday…which, in itself was a bad idea. Target the day before Valentine’s Day? No. Thank. You. Anyway, I picked out some chocolates, wine, coffee, and a Red Bull for Taylor. Then I found a card that said something along the lines of, “Even though you’re a total pain in the ass, I still love you. Can we have sex now?” I’m so romantic, y’all. But the point is, I knew he would like it. He gets me like that. Then, I let Sully pick out some Chocolate for our friend, Kevin, so the boys could give him a Valentine’s Day present. Finally, I let Sully grab a thing of Matchbox cars and some cookies for his Valentine’s Day gift. We came home and ate candy. When Taylor got home, he couldn’t wait to give me my gift, so we went ahead and exchanged presents last night. This morning, I gave Sully a leftover brownie (not heart shaped, bytheway) and a kiss and said, “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby!” He promptly threw the brownie on the floor and demanded oatmeal.

So there’s that.

Arlo, of course, has no idea about any of this and is blissfully napping while I wallow in my Pinterest induced guilt.

We were never big Valentine’s Day folks around here anyway. I mean, we celebrate it, but we don’t do anything over-the-top. Tay and I always get each other little presents that are filled with goodies we wouldn’t normally buy ourselves. Taylor never buys Red Bull even though he loves it because he thinks it’s too expensive. The wine I got him? Fifteen bucks instead of the usual eight or nine. The coffee was Dunkin’ Donuts, which is a bit pricier than the usual Folgers. He gave me an automatic can opener because I’ve been bitching about the manual one I have. It shoots juice all over me when I’m trying to open cans. I also got a nice bottle of wine, some nice chocolate, and Laffy Taffy (oooh, how I love Laffy Taffy). Nothing special. Just thoughtful, sweet, little gifts I wouldn’t have bought for myself. I also surprised Tay with a night out this evening. We have no real plans. I think we’ll just got grab Mexican at a local restuarant, but it will be nice to get out of the house sans babies…

Maybe when the boys are a bit older and in school, I’ll make a bigger fuss of Valentine’s Day. Though, I have to say, when I was in school, I don’t remember anyone showing up with handmade Valentines for everyone in the class.

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Pretty much, we all had various cut-out cards of different movies or TV shows that were popular at the time, and they were a really good Valentine if it came with some name brand candy (and not of the Swedish Fish variety). Is this real life now? Do cards have to be hand sewn and crafted out of blood and sweat to be meaningful? Am I doomed to be the laughing stock of the PTA because I don’t start working on Valentines for the entire class of twenty kids in December?! Is craftiness just something some people are born with? And I’m just destined to be an embarassment for my children because they will expect paper wreaths and streamers galore for every holiday?

This is a disaster.

And no, I’m not talking about some new sex position. That would be way more fun than what I’m talking about today.

A couple days ago, I woke up and couldn’t move. I, literally, could not roll over to sit up in the bed. I panicked and called Taylor.

Me: Oh my God, I think I did something really bad to myself last night.

Taylor:……like??

Me: I can’t move. I’m bed ridden. You have to come home right now. Right now.

Taylor:….Sal, I can’t come home right now. I have to work. What did you do?

Me: (wailing) I don’t knnnooooooooowwwwwwww.

Taylor: Okay, well let me get a couple things done and I’ll call you back to see if you’re okay.

Obviously, he’s used to my dramas.

I finally worked up the courage to force myself out of bed. See, this is what happened. I decided to sleep belly down and face up. I have no idea why. I vaguely remember waking up and thinking, “This is really weird…” and then I went back to sleep.

I spent the rest of the night blissfully unaware that I was wrenching my neck into disfunction. I think maybe, I just got really bold. Arlo was sleeping in his own crib. And I had a whole half of a bed. ALL TO MYSELF! I can lay however I want! I can roll around and not squish a baby! I can lay on my mother effin’ stomach!!! Wahooo!!!!

And this was the result:

Wait. That’s not entirely correct. This was the result:

Do you know, it took me three days to be able to look down without wanting to cry? What was I thinking?! Who sleeps that way?! No one. No one sleeps that way because it’s really stupid and anyone who has ever slept that way has spent three days cursing the fact that they slept that way one night, and they never, ever, ever did it again.

There’s no real point of this post. Other than, if anyone ever asks you if you like it “belly down and face up” that answer should be, “Hell to the no, I do not like it belly down face up. NO ONE DOES!”

I used to buzz around during naptime. I would start dinner. I would wipe up all the spills from the morning, fold a load or two of laundry, dust, blog, and maybe even sit for a minute and watch HGTV and drink a Diet Coke. I love naptime with a passion that only a mother can know. Now, I glance up from my computer and two hours have passed, and it’s time for babies to start rousing. I’d planned on working a couple hours in the evening yesterday, but by the time the boys were down for the count, I looked around and realized how many things still had to get done before I crashed around 10:00PM.

The busyness is good. I like being busy. I like feeling useful and needed. I like knowing that I’m able to contribute to our savings or car payment or whatever every month. But I am going to have to relearn how to organize and manage my time. Yesterday, I felt as though there wasn’t a single minute of my day that was filled with something or another. I’ve grown comfortable with our old routine, and now I need to figure out what our “new” routine will look like every day. Instead of playing on the floor all morning, I have a few things I’ve got to get done. I play for awhile, and then it’s time for the boys to entertain themselves a little while. Instead of reading five books before naptime, somedays there might only be three books. I am finding I have to take a few short cuts in our day.

I really noticed how much I was missing when Sully came to kiss me good night before Taylor took him up to bed. Sully ran, arms opened, and I thought to myself, “This is the first time I’m really seeing him today.” How did I miss the way his smile turns crooked when he’s really happy? How did I miss that his eyes have grown darker and his hair longer? His laugh…has it always been so high pitched and contagious? When did these changes happen? Yesterday?! A week? A month? I have no idea.

These little bits of my biggest son had somehow slipped through my fingers.

And this isn’t a “guilt” thing. This is a “life” thing. I know I won’t catch every moment and every change. Even as a stay-at-home mom, I’m going to miss things. I’m going to miss small nuances and subtle minutes of growth. I can try to catch every one, but I know that it simply isn’t possible. So instead of beating myself up for this little missed changes, I just grabbed him up extra tight and gave him a big kiss.

“Night, night, baby. See you tomorrow,” I whispered.

Yes, there will be misses. There will be mistakes. I will falter as a mother. But at the end of the day, I still have a toddler who runs arms open to snuggle into my chest and get his good-night kiss. And that? That means more than anything in this world. His simple love reminds me that at the end of the day, I’m doing the best I can.

And he knows it.

Oh…tears.

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How sweet is this baby’s baptism picture?

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This picture makes me tear up. Every. Freaking. Time.

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Love a Chevron wall…

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I think, maybe? I just have a thing for striped walls.

I also really, really love yellow doors.

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I’m feeling a side bun, y’all. What do you think?

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I’m not bold enough to do it, but this tattoo is lovely.

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I’ll be getting two little birds on my wrist someday soon for these boys.

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Let’s finish with a thought for all those “No NURSING IN PUBLIC!” folks.

How’s that for modesty?

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So what are you loving these days? A picture? A particular interior design? Pining over a dress? I’d love to hear about it!

This morning, I caught the two of them laughing at each other. Because, you know, nothing’s funnier than a fart sound.

Brothers bonding over raspberries and squeals. Melts me.

Oh, and the best part? All we have to pay for are the materials the class uses.

Which saves us so much time because, honestly, I doubt we would have been able to finish them without that help. Taylor spent all last weekend sanding the cabinet bases, taping off trim, painting walls, starting to paint cabinet bases, finishing plumbing work, and getting the dishwasher installed, and we still have so much to do. Like,

-Put a second coat of paint on the walls and cabinet bases.
-Paint the trim.
-Paint the ceiling.
-Add toe kick trim under old cabinets.
-Get countertops installed.
-Pull up the rest of the old flooring.
-Install the hardwood floors in the kitchen.
-Replace hardware on the newly painted cabinet doors.
-Put the doors back on the cabinets.
-Line the inside of the cabinets where the previous owners left wallpaper that won’t come up no matter what we do.’
-Replace the lighting.
-Install the faucet.
-Get the new fridge and install it.

And various little “lipstick and mascara” finishes like caulking.

Phew. That’s is a LOT left.

So we are forever thankful to Mr. Bonda and his class for their help on our cabinets. By the way, ladies, Mark is single and handy (wink, wink).

We’ve got a date set for countertop installation, and luckily I’ll be there that weekend, so I’ll get the chance to take lots and lots of pictures for your viewing pleasure. Things are coming right along, and I couldn’t be more excited about all the plans we have for this sweet, little house.

I’m so proud of everything that Taylor has done. Sorry ladies. He’s not single.

I know it still looks like a hot mess. And these pictures were taken at night with a phone camera, so it’s hard to tell paint colors and such. But to me, it looks worlds better.

Okay, so these pictures are horrible. I’d love to share more, but we forgot to send the real camera with Taylor, so this is all you get. Soon enough. Soon enough.

Hiiiiii!!!!!

Hope y’all have a wonderful weekend.

Well, apparently, ice cream trucks also run in January. Who knew? I guess it has something to do with the 50 to 60 degree weather and the sunshine. Whatever the reason, the ice cream truck came cruising through our neighborhood yesterday. We had the doors to the back porch wide open while the babies played, and we got some fresh air. When we heard that music, I gasped, “Oh, we HAVE to catch that ice cream truck. Sully would love that!” Taylor scooped up Sully, I grabbed Arlo, and our friend, Kevin, reminded me to grab my camera (for blogging’s sake, obviously).

When we got outside, we realized the truck was moving away from us, so Kevin jumped in his truck and drove around the neighborhood until he could catch the driver and ask her to come back our way. A few minutes later, the creepiest, most dilapidated ice cream truck came rolling around the corner. Complete with an odd, green paint job and techno music, this truck/van would have surely won an award for looking scary. But that didn’t deter us. Ice cream! On a van! Who cares what it looks like?!

Arlo burst into tears, and Sully clung to Taylor’s arm. Wimps.

When Sully realized what the van had hidden within it’s 1960s vinyl interior, he got over being scared pretty quickly. That’s my boy. So he and Taylor went to pick out their treats.

This van even had Ramen noodles and Chalupas. The driver really should head on over to the local college campuses at about 1:00AM on any given Saturday night. She would totally make a killing.

They passed on the various stoner munchies and settled on an Oreo ice cream bar.

It was $2.50. $2.50! When I was a kid, ice cream was $.50. What a rip off.

But nevertheless, Sully thought it was the most amazing snack he’s ever had which made the $2.50 worth it.

Also, Arlo got over being scared. Good boy.

So my Sully got his first taste of an ice cream truck yesterday. I’ll tell you what, though. I may not be letting him make trips to get ice cream unsupervised. Like. Ever. That thing was weird.