OHMYGOSHGUESSWHAT???

Today Nolan is 11 years old. That means that 11 years ago today I was a terrified 17 year old, in ugly maternity clothes, delivering a child with a massive head while my equally terrified, 19 year old, baby daddy looked on wide eyed, attempting to at least  feign support but really focusing on whether or not he should burst into tears and run out of the room and down the hall screaming like a kid who just had a bad dream.

Yes, that is the only significance of today. No other reason. I am certainly NOT in awe of how fast the time has flown by or what an amazing little boy my eldest son is. I mean, that would completely take the focus off of me!

Who am I kidding? I'm busting at the seams with pride! Oh Nolan, what a ride it has been!

Now back to me...

This past weekend, I ripped up my living room carpet. All of it. By myself. No one helped me.

Fine. Baby Daddy helped me. But ONLY because he would rather do dirty, nasty, physical labor than attend a party with a bunch of screaming children, running around and hurling themselves from a trampoline....in the dark. I mean, who would want to miss out on that? I LOVE having glow sticks thrown at my head. It's even more fun when one lands in the bonfire you are warming your hands over and explodes....

Alright, maybe that last part didn't really happen. Well, in my head it did, but not in real life. However, I DID dodge a few flaming marshmallows!

Why do kids think if a marshmallow catches on fire the best thing to do is fling the stick around? Baffling....just like Baby Daddy wanting to miss that party.

Anyway, post party, I returned to my carpets gone. Well, not gone. They were on my front porch....because that is the best place to put them. Not in the back....or even the garage, but the front. Right next to the pumpkins.

I gleefully thanked Baby Daddy and gave him a beer for his efforts. I sent him home and the childrens off to the grandparents house to sleep so they would not injure themselves with hammers and exposed splinters. My TV was also unplugged so I had no babysitter. KIDDING!

That night, I stood in the silence of my home and stared at my bare floors happy that the carpet was out, but fearing I had gotten in over my head.

*Side note, the house was not really silent but that sounded better than, "That night, as my dog tap danced across the floor, giddy that his paws now made sounds...."

My fear soon turned to determination. I was tackling a project that several people had tried to talk me out of. I was going to PAINT my plywood sub-floors and they were going to look GOOD!

So, I spent this past weekend inhaling saw dust (thanks to the electric sander  Baby Daddy so graciously purchased), covering myself and the floors in wood filler, primer, paint and polyurethane and getting high on the fumes of spray paint...inadvertently of course...because spray painting in the house with all the doors and windows closed is a great idea. Just like the carpet on the front porch.

After several Ibuprofen, some beer, and a side trip to the Haunted Woods, my living room floors are done! And guess what? I LOVE them. ME! Not my mother, not Baby Daddy, not the neighbors. ME. No more decorating the way other people might like. I am doing things the way Brandi likes!!

I have some pictures of the floor that I will show you soon. I'm also excited to share a few other projects I am attempting to tackle. The transformation of my home has only just begun. (And maybe, eventually, the colors of my blog. I'm not loving it.)

OH! And, I bought a reciprocating saw. It was on sale. I cannot promise there will not be holes cut randomly into my walls should anyone visit. I have no control over my creative actions. I don't really know why I even needed the saw...but I wanted it and right now, that is all that matters.

If You Give a Nolan a Soda

If you give a Nolan a soda, he’s going to want some more.
Once he drinks some more, he’s going to get chatty.
When he gets chatty, he will talk really fast.
When he talks really fast, he can talk about a lot.
He will start by talking about school which will make him think about lunch.
He will want to see the lunch you packed and ask you lots of questions.
Asking all those questions will make him kind of thirsty.
He’s going to want some more soda.
He will drink some more soda while you tell him to put on his shoes.
He will walk to his room but probably get distracted by his brother and forget why he was there.
He will come back to the kitchen and ask you more questions.
Asking more questions will make him thirsty again.
He’s going to want some more soda.
He will drink some more soda while you tell him to put on his shoes...again.
As he leaves the kitchen, you might hand him his lunch to pack in his bag.
He will put his lunch in his bag but forget to put on his shoes.
His bag will probably be close to the TV.
He will want to watch Phineas and Ferb.
Watching Phineas and Ferb puts him in a trance-like state.
You will probably catch him watching TV and see he has on no shoes.
You will tell him to put on his shoes...again.
He will squeal really loud and run to his room,
but he will want to change his shirt instead.
He will want to explain to you why he should change his shirt.
He will find you in your room.
He will start talking really fast and raise his arms above his head so you can see his shirt is too short justifying the change.
You will probably stare at him and say “okay”.
He will run to his room...again...
You will see he still has on no shoes and yell after him to put them on...again.
He will emerge from his room in a new shirt and tightly laced shoes.
Finally seeing he is ready for school, you will tell him to get in the car.
As he walks to the car, you will yell at his middle brother for unlocking and insisting on exiting through the front door.
You will need to lock the front door again.
You will probably notice that Nolan’s youngest brother has done everything he is supposed to without being told and you will quietly thank God.
As Nolan and his little brother open the door to enter the garage, you might remember that the garage door needs to be raised and the little one is not tall enough to reach the button.
You will tell Nolan to press the button.
He will probably say okay but instead of pressing the button he will realize he is thirsty.
He’s going to want some more soda.
He will leave his little brother standing in the dark of the garage to go drink some soda.
You will have to tell him to raise the garage....again.
He will probably say “oh” because he is so engrossed in his soda that he can’t think of a good excuse as to why he did not do it the first time.
He will open the garage.
For good measure, you will probably tell him to get in the car...again.
At some point you will make your own way to the car to find that Nolan is not in it.
He has run to the end of the driveway instead.
His brothers have followed him.
You will need to yell “Boys get in the car!”
There will probably be several neighbors outside.
You might even realize that this is why the neighbors don’t talk to you...
The boys will finally get in the car but as you begin to drive, Nolan will get chatty...again.
He will want to talk about football.
He will probably ask you who won the game, who you wanted to win the game, why you didn’t watch the whole game, make a comment about school, do some math problems out loud that relate to the score of the game, state some statistic that would have needed to happen in order for the other team to have won the game, make a comment about the player who manages the time, explain to you how the players do that thus defining “kneeling”.
You will finally reach your destination and probably bolt out of the car before any of the kids can get out.
You will quickly explain to the boys father which child thinks they are sick, hug the little one who is crying because everyone came inside and shut the door before he could get in and oh by the way...
“Nolan had soda.”
You will shout “Goodbye!” and maybe even “Good luck!” and run quickly out the door to your car.
You will throw the car in reverse, peel out of the driveway and might even take part of your bumper out on the curb.
As you drive down the road you might take a sip of coffee and secretly wish it was vodka...

The End.