It's Been Harder Than High School Algebra Class

I've been through a terrible ordeal. It's been painful, traumatic, and tear-inducing. Seriously. I broke down in a parking lot and cried.

I've been trying to find a neutral tan/beige/brown to paint my family room.

Laugh if you wish, but if you are laughing, then I'm betting you've never had to try to find that magical color that doesn't read too brown or too yellow or too gray or too muddy or too swine colored. I'm sure it's out there. Others have claimed to find it. But it's my Bigfoot--it has eluded me.

This past weekend, I began to paint our family room. When we moved in, it was painted like this:

It was a green that I could deal with. It was similar to a green that we had in our old house, but a bit darker. I could and did decorate with this green. But after several years of green in the old house and 4 years of green in this house, I was greened out. What had seemed refreshing and neutral (did you know that some greens are considered neutral?) was starting to turn muddy and cave-like. Every time I looked at the paint, which was, you know, DAILY since we live in that room and it connects to the kitchen, I started to get hives. I just couldn't stand it a minute longer. And so it was that I embraced my insanity and declared that we would be painting Thanksgiving weekend so it would be out of the way come Christmas.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

First, my beloved painted the ceiling. He has a thing about needing the ceilings to be bright white. I could give a flying fig about how white the ceilings are. I mean, seriously, I'm not all that concerned about the whites in my laundry staying white. Bright white ceilings!? Pffft. So Patrick spent Saturday painting the ceiling. Then on Sunday, while the paint hardened and I twiddled my thumbs in impatience, I went to Lowe's and bought a gallon of what I was sure was going to be the perfect neutral beige paint and some tinted primer.

On Monday, after removing blinds and cover plates and taping every piece of trim AND the fabulously bright white ceiling, I began priming. I started to paint the first coat of paint just as the first children were arriving home from school.

You know what's great about children? Their honesty.

You know what sucks about children? Their honesty.

After the third one came home and said, "Mom, did you mean for the walls to be the same color as the trim? It looks kinda blah in here," exactly like her siblings had, I was teetering on the edge of The Abyss of Losing It. When my husband walked in and said "Are you doing a second coat of primer?" I dropped my paint roller into The Abyss and nearly jumped in after it.

Thankfully, I had only done one wall. I grabbed my car keys, yelled "Order pizza for dinner!" and headed back to Lowe's. In rush hour traffic. In CHRISTMAS rush hour traffic. Hey, do you know what they don't sell at Lowe's? Booze. And it's probably a good thing, as by the time I got there I was ready to sit in a corner with a bottle of anything alcoholic and snarl at people when they came near.

I had with me a pillow with the same shade of brown that I was looking for. I walked back and forth past the paint chips, pulling out anything that looked promising and then discarding it in disgust, until finally, FINALLY I found one that was a near match. I don't know if the other shoppers heard it, but I could distinctly hear angels singing as a golden glow of light enveloped the paint chip in my hands. I took it to the counter and said, "Give me a gallon of your best satin, my good man! And make it snappy, good sir, as I must hasten to slap this paint on the walls before they install me in the loony bin!" Or maybe I just pointed and grunted. I can't be sure. It's all a bit of a haze.

As I was walking through the parking lot with my paint, my phone rang. It was my beloved who told me he would help me paint so that I wouldn't be up until the wee hours. And that, my friends, was when I cried in the parking lot. Little did I know that it wouldn't be the last time that night...

We started putting the new paint on the walls and remarked that while it certainly was darker than the first paint color, it didn't seem as dark as the color on the paint chip. It was at this point that I started to curse Lowe's and their computer. Even though it says the right color on the computer label on the paint can, I think it was mixed wrong. We kept painting, knowing that paint dries darker than it appears when you first apply it.

HAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!!!

Or BOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!!!

I'm not sure what color is on our walls. Lavender Swine? Gray Haze Pink? Barely A Notch Above Cream? Whatever it is, it ain't Tattered Sail like the paint chip I picked out. There's a better chance of a monkey leaping out of my butt and singing Jingle Bells than there is of that color resembling the paint chip.

Not that I'm bitter. Ahem.

We decided that we'd take the tape down before the paint hardened, because have you ever left painting tape on too long? There's nothing more frustrating than finishing a paint job and having half of it come off with the tape.

Nothing except choosing the wrong color. For the second time.

We're keeping it the way it is until after the holidays. I just don't have the time or the will to tape everything again and try to find the right color before Christmas. I'm hoping that by putting enough sparkly Christmas decorations up, everyone will be distracted from the paint. Ohh! Look! Shiny!!!

This color isn't true. I think it looks darker here than it really is.

Don't mind the missing cover plates. They'll get put back on. On Christmas Eve. Along with the blinds. And the curtains I have yet to make. Anyone have wine? Anyone? Anyone?

What's an "after" shot without a dog with a vacant stare in it?

See those mirrors on the mantel? I just thought it would look pretty. I had no other motive in my little brain at the time. But it turns out that it was another of my very excellent ideas. Do you know why? Because we are all highly entertained by the Dumb Dog when she chases the beam of a flashlight. Y'all. Those mirrors make it look like a DISCO in here! The poor dog has no idea what just happened. Her tiny little mind is blown. We may have to spend the holidays with the lights off just so she doesn't run herself to death.

Still. In some small and totally sadistic way, it makes up for the paint color.

Thanksgiving (Yep, So Very Behind These Days!)

Why helllooo there!  And how was your Thanksgiving? Are you coming out of your turkey coma? Or are you still dreaming of skinny dipping in the homemade noodles and gravy? No? Just me then? Okay...

Here at Chez Ganey, things have been rolling right along. We headed to Illinois to see family over the Thanksgiving holiday. We were only there for 48 hours, but man, we managed to cram all the good stuff in. We ate barbecued brisket sandwiches, played charades, ate turkey, played football, ate pie, played cards, ate turkey sandwiches, played with dogs, ate more pie, and had a baptism. Why no, they didn't need to roll me down the aisle at church, why do you ask?

As per tradition, we played a Turkeys vs. 'Taters football game. And as per tradition, I documented the game with my camera.

My boys and cousin Mike giving their best "scary" faces. I'm quaking. Aren't you?

My brother, Uncle Grumpy, with his No-shave November goatee and 'stache.

My sister-in-law, Mrs. Uncle Grumpy, and her sweet girls, my beautiful nieces.

My beloved, QB of the 'Taters: James, get right, Olivia, get left, Mike get by me, Kathy, get out of the way.

Don't remember if this pass connected, but I loved his face in this shot. It makes me laugh every time I look at it.

Uncle Grumpy told his son to go long. His son did not go long enough. Uncle Grumpy stayed grumpy.

My ultra-competitive sister-in-law tackling her ultra-competitive-apple-didn't-fall-far-from-the-tree daughter.

Not sure who won, the Turkeys or the 'Taters, but everyone had a good time and the adults all creaked and groaned later in the afternoon. 

Patrick and the kids and I shifted between my folks' home in our hometown, and Patrick's sister's home about 30 miles away so we could visit his mother and some of his other family. His mom isn't well and we've tried to spend as much time as we can when we are in town. Bonus: second Thanksgiving meal and one of Aunt Gigi's delicious homemade chocolate pies to take home! (The pie made the trip home but was gone the next day.)

On Friday, before heading back to Indy, my dad took Mary's confession of faith and Patrick baptized her. It was a very beautiful celebration and we are so blessed and proud of Mary.

My dad, taking Mary's confession of faith, and reminding Mary that Jesus is her boss now.

Before she descended into the baptistry, Mary was crying. She was afraid she would "mess up.'" I was crying too, but for entirely different reasons.

Dead to sin, raised to new life in Christ. Congratulations, Mary Rose!

After Mary's baptism, we headed back to my folks' house for a quick lunch before heading back to Indy. Once home, Patrick and I went to the home improvement store to get paint so that we could paint to family room.

We are insane. Who paints during the holidays? Hint: Insane people.

Stay tuned. Painting was not without it's problems. *Sigh*. Oh well, gives me something to blog about.

Also, if you need me? I'll be huddled over in that corner with booze and ice cream, muttering about paint colors.

(Un)Brace Yourself

We had a Momentous Occasion 'round these parts last week. Another child was freed from bondage! Er, as much as braces can be considered bondage. But for as much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth that went on for lo these two and a half years, you would believe that my child was a victim of in"denture"d servitude. Okay. Sorry for that horrible pun so early in the day. Sometimes I can't help myself. I am a product of my upbringing. (I'm looking at you, Daddy!)

So that was all to say that finally, after two and a half years of Herbst-appliance-wearing, wire-tightening, rubber-band-wearing, "oh-my-gosh-braces-are-ridiculously-stupid" orthodontia, James' teeth are finally free and unencumbered. Well, as much as teeth can be anyway.

Here are the obligatory before and after pictures:

The orthodontist used to give caramel corn to kids after they had their braces removed. That's what Maggie received when she got hers off. Now, however, they've gone to a candy closet that is chock-full of all the different "forbidden" candy. I put "forbidden" in quotation marks, since neither Maggie nor James took the whole "don't eat these foods" portion of their orthodontia handbook seriously.

James managed to cram his little bag full of Tootsie Rolls and caramels, things he ate anyway. What he's really looking forward to is corn on the cob, something he really loves and didn't eat the whole time he had braces. They didn't have that in the candy closet. That would've been weird. Unfortunately, he's going to have a bit of a wait for that.

And what do I get after two and a half years of orthodontia? Why, the opportunity to be free of nagging about rubber bands, not having to schedule and remember orho appointments, and not finding tiny little rubber bands everywhere--up to and including the washer and dryer.

And a couple of purloined Tootsie Rolls. Totally worth the wait.

Catch Up

No. This is not a post about condiments. I fear that if I were to post my preference of ketchup to salsa or mustard to mayonnaise, I would be setting myself up for controversy. And, I don't know if you've been aware, but we've had an election in this country and it has been a little bit heated and divisive. I can't take it anymore. So I am avoiding the whole thing altogether and am just going to talk about non-controversial stuff that's been happening around here in between the sky falling and half of the country readying itself to pack up and move to somewhere else. Ahem.

Let's see...

The kids had fall break a couple of weeks ago. We are boring and also, I am horrible, because I had the nerve to schedule a physical for myself on one of the days of fall break, thus not allowing us to go anywhere. Gosh, am I selfish! (Actually, blame the doctor. I called waaaay back in August and couldn't get in until October. Don't even get me started on trying to see the LadyBits doctor.) (Hi dad!) So we spent one of the days visiting Conner Prairie, a local living history museum. It is a gem of a place that we should visit more and if you are ever in the Indianapolis area, I highly recommend a visit.
Our first stop was the Lenape Indian camp where an interpreter gave us some interesting history and tied it to people and places that we know about in Indiana.

Sean and Mary in a Lenape style canoe. Getting edumacated.

Maggie, grinding corn. She's pretty sure she likes the time she's living in right now.

Wow, this horse is really tame. 

Then we headed to the Conner house, took in some information there and headed around back to the great view and the fabulous hill so that the kids could roll down it.

"Whoa. Now I'm dizzy!"

"Whoa. Now I'm dizzy! And itchy! So itchy!"

Probably wasn't the same view Mr. Conner had, but still, not bad.

Yes, we are missing a child. He preferred sleep to family time. Go figure. Also, so much for Christmas card pictures!

After that, we headed to the barn to pet sheep, goats, and calves. And also to comment on the smell. What a bunch of city slickers I live with!

She wasn't sure she should disturb the sheep while it was snacking.

Not quite 17 hands tall. Also, this face? Apparently it is the new "duck face." I see girls all over social media looking mildly alarmed.

Giddyap!

This is the slowest horse EVER!

Feeding the calf. I am mooing while I'm taking this picture. She is embarrassed to be near me. 

Then we headed to the forge to see the blacksmith. Sean loved this area. We all liked watching the blacksmith work. The blacksmith liked watching Maggie. Maggie's daddy didn't like the blacksmith. We left the smithy and made many remarks about Maggie being of marrying age and how a smith was a pretty good catch, what with job stability and all. Maggie walked far in front of us. The end.

Hey girl, I can shoe your horse or make you a spatula. 

We visited the village, where Mary was invited to play the piano at the doctor's house and we learned that children had a good number of rules to follow at the dining table. Also, my children decided that they wouldn't want to have to live without indoor plumbing.

Took a little bit of persuasion, but then she played Yankee Doodle, a song which was setting appropriate.

Dang! Where is that 4th child?! This would've been a good one!

Next we headed to the 1860's and learned about the Confederate raid on Indiana and were startled by a Union soldier up on a telegraph pole. 

Unfortunately, we didn't get a shot of me being startled by pans flying off the wall in the mercantile when the rebs came in and tore up the place. Yep. My kids are always happy to be around me.

So. Conner Prairie. Good times.

Also, this happened:

No. She doesn't have her license. Yet.  But we purchased a second family vehicle in anticipation of that event. Before, we just had the minivan and Pat's company vehicle, which only he is allowed to drive. I mean, I could drive it, but I'm pretty sure the Horsemen of the Apocalypse would have to be chasing me. And they would have to be fleeing zombies. So you know, a second vehicle was in order. Plus, having the Element allows Maggie the avoid the shame of having to drive a minivan. I don't know how I've withstood the humiliation of driving one for so many years. Ahem.


And there was also this:

Happy Halloween. Now give me candy before my fearsome K-9 and I arrest you.

Mary would like you to know that her Halloween costume is that of a K-9 officer. Maggie would like you to know that she's going as a Supermodel and isn't wearing a costume. I would like you to know that I'm rolling my eyes.

Hi, I'm Officer Mary and this is my K-9 officer Sparkle the Chihuahua. Please notice my cheesy grin and provide me with candy. Thanks!

This is ONE child's haul from Halloween. He was worried that he might not have enough to share a few pieces with the kids who didn't trick or treat. I think we might need to have a conversation about "enough."

And finally, with much celebration, there was this:

I didn't get a sticker in the last election. I was very sad. This year, the gentleman working the polls let me take two! One for my coat and one for my clothes. I was like an 8 year old. Because it's all about the sticker, right?

And that is absolutely as political as I will get. Stickers = Yay! Hooray! Yippee! All is right with the world!
No stickers = The sky is falling! I'm moving to another country!