We’ve lived in this house for eight years. It was new when we moved in — fresh and new and clean and everything was painted white. WHITE. I look back at pictures of it and it all looks so…well, clean and fresh and white. And we had no furniture, so there was lots of room. And the spawn were little, so we had more room, too. Now everything is painted in different colors (I have a purple living room and a red dining room and a blue kitchen) — and we have furniture, and we’re all bigger. Well. The spawn are bigger.
And now things are starting to fall apart. The dishwasher is showing wear. The door into the garage won’t close if you don’t take your time because the lock plate is falling off and gets caught. Things aren’t so clean. But it’s all our dirt, and our lives have made it, and this is our house and we live here and have made it a home.
I’ve been in this body for 37 years and it’s falling apart, too. Today my head is killing me (again) and it could be allergies (pollen is rampant, apparently, when you live in the woods, who knew?) or an old neck injury which means I should hie myself to the chiropractor again. Which I love to do because he’s awesome and adjusts me like whoa. And I always feel better after but now…now my neck hurts and my head hurts and I’m thinking…I’m not even old! I’m just…showing wear and tear!
And for the life of me I can’t get upset about an extra ten pounds. Nobody’s going to see me naked ever again (nobody who hasn’t already, I mean) –
Let’s have a moment of silence.
Nobody. Will. See. Me. Naked. EVER. AGAIN.
So…bring on the Cheetos and the elastic waist pants, I say! Bring on the doughnuts! Bring on the chocolate! Yeah, baby!
I say this with my exercise bike mocking me from the corner — I still love you, baby. I do! I do! I swear I’ll ride you again. Just let me recover from the headache and the neck ache.
Anyway, I don’t really have a point to this other than it’s sort of rainy today and I’m going to try to write before I have to leave for spawn one’s gym show, but I was secretly thinking of going back to bed, instead. Or trying to fit in a chiro appt.
But, sigh, I’ll write at least a few words because I gotta. I have pages to finish and school is letting out soon and I’ll be traveling next week on a field trip (EEEEEEK!!!!!!!)
M
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I have a new neck injury. It’s been killing me for the last week - I’m miserable! I think I need a chiropractor.
Our house was brand new when we first moved in almost 7 years ago. White and big and empty. Now it’s much like you say - colorful and full and dirty. But we live in the country too - dirt finds its way in here via my children. ;) Yeah, I blame the children.
by Karen Erickson May 20, 2008 - 15 Iyar, 5768 at 7:42 amI find blaming the children is usually the best solution for any problem.
by Megan Hart May 20, 2008 - 15 Iyar, 5768 at 7:52 amMy house is 15 years old. It was 12 years old when I moved in. (not so lucky with the new)
It needs a re-haul. Badly. Burgundy Living room, Brown Ginger Bread Men Kitchen, Yellow Bedroom, “Monster Truck” bedroom & a Winnie The Pooh Bedroom.
Re. Haul!! I’ll blame my husband. My son is only 2.5, its easier to blame the husband.
by Karrie May 20, 2008 - 15 Iyar, 5768 at 8:44 am@Karrie:
The house we had before this was 20 years old…in decent shape but moving in to a brand new house was like *cue the angel choir!*
Now I have nobody to blame BUT the spawn and that man who lives here, too. Superman he might be, but that makes a SUPER MESS.
by Megan Hart May 20, 2008 - 15 Iyar, 5768 at 8:50 am