All My Girls

Love pink.  And I do mean all my girls…

Bathtime for the girls, and the Queen has finally found some appropriate seating where she can keep an eye on everything.

I need to talk to Al about changing soaps.  Apparently, the pickle-vinegar combo was not a big hit with MK

How Do They Know???

Call it women’s intuition…or something along those lines.  Either way, wives always know.  Perhaps I should back up a bit.  My Dad and I spent days over at the house getting everything ready.  Painting, hanging blinds, etc…  The entire time we’re doing this, my phone never rings.  I don’t hear a peep out of Al.  But then, we start in on the TV…

I had been telling Al for weeks that I had this plan to mount our TV on the wall, and I was going to route all the wires through the wall, and not to ask any more questions becuase she would love it.  We got to the no more asking questions part when I explained that this project would necessarily involve cutting holes in the dry wall and putting in my own junction boxes. 

The second I get the saw buried in the wall, the phone rings.  Completely out of the blue.  Who could it be?

“How do they know?”  Dad asks.

“What are you working on?” Al asks.  I try to dodge a few questions and then assure her that everything is fine.

“Besides,” I tell her.  “You’ve got a fully licensed lawyer and doctor working on this project.  Relax.”

“Yes and they’re both named Havens.  That’s what worries me.” 

Unfortunately, Al has heard the story of how my dad, after much shall we say, prodding by my mother, decided to tackle the remodeling of the den.

My mom had been saying for weeks how she wanted the den to be “opened up”. After one long day at the hospital, and one too many suggestions, dad walks into the den, plugs the circular saw into the wall, and starts cutting.  Just holds the saw up along the wall and starts walking with the blade spinning.  I must admit, it did open things up quite a bit.  Although, in all the HGTV shows I’ve seen since then, I’ve never seen anyone recommend plugging a saw in to the actual wall you’ll be removing, but hey whatever works…

The final result?

Jack Bauer in all his High Def goodness.  Not a wire in sight, and Al was thrilled

Matching Furniture

You’ve got to have some kind of furniture to go in the new place.

Seems appropriate.  Although big sister is not exactly thrilled with the proposition that little sister’s chair is bigger and pinker!!!  CB did quickly point out that “We can share!”

MK is taking her up on this sharing thing.

And now for one of the main reasons it’s impossible to get anything done.

Little Miss “Blue Eyed Thang” is into EVERYTHING.  How an 8 month old can crawl faster than I can run is beyond me, but it happens on a daily basis.  And the bad news…

I think crawling is too slow for her tastes.  She’s standing up now and attempting to sprint.  When I call Al at home I hear a lot of, “Caroline you left the door open.  Mary Kate just went in the back yard.  Wait, what?  No, you can’t use Daddy’s nail gun to stop her. Put that down.”

I try not to call home much these days.


I mentioned in the last entry about my parents coming to help, and there’s no way we could have gotten anytyhing done without them.  I know the painting would have gotten done, eventually.   Probably sometime in August, and it would not have looked  nearly as good.  Dad was also around to help me with some more interesting projects, more on that later…

Then, the second wave came in.  Al’s parents showed up a couple days after my parents left and really went to work getting the house ready.  CB loved this revolving door of grandparents.  I know we’d still be eating off paper plates and looking for everything if it weren’t for Nana Jane and Grandpa.

The final wave, and possibly the worst job was left to Molly and Shane.  Just want everyone wants to do on a Saturday – a 16hr day of moving furniture.  Good Times.

One of the many action photos.  I think Shane started to catch on after the first truck load.  I was fine with the smaller boxes, but when it came to the 500lb plus items, all these mysterious injuries kept popping up.  I think the picture above was taken when I blew a hamstring right before we moved the 800lb armoire.  Strange how that happens.

We owe all these people a great deal, and will definitely have a party to celebrate.  No painting, lifting, or cleaning alllowed.  

Thanks again to everyone.

Her Colors Were Blush and Bashful…

I know I’ve leaned on that phrase a few times on this blog before, but somehow, it’s never seemed more appropriate.  The main reason the blog has been suffering as of late is because of our big move.  I do say big, because moving across the street with a suitcase with Miss CB and MK would be big, but packing and moving an entire house is reaching epic proportions.

And the house?  The girls love it.  One slight problem, although the house was new and in perfect condition, it just wasn’t…pink enough.  Enter Daddy and Pa-Pa with paintbrushes in hand.

The obligatory “before” shot of Miss CB’s room.  Nice solid color, good contrast, no need for “Nothin” in my opinion, and Pa Pa agreed with me as well.  But, you know this would never work in my house.

As Michaelangelo plans his next move, you can see how the room is shaping up

One thing CB is definitely learning early, from Nana and Mommy, is that men just cannot seem to work without some kind of female oversight…

Throw in another bedroom, another bathroom, and 47 short hours later, we’re done.

Blush and Bashful if I’ve ever seen it.  The princess loves it, but she did point out one slight problem as I was putting her to bed.

“Daddy, I really like my new room, but I saw something I meant to tell you about”

“Oh no.”

“My ceiling is white.  It’s not pink.  You forgot”  My response? I did what any good dad would do…I punted.

“You’ll have to talk to Pa Pa about that one.”

Wanna Trade

I know, I know…it’s been a looong time since the last update.  But trust me, I’ve had plenty of good excuses.  Let me just mention one of my last weekends, and I promise you, I’ll trade for your weekend sight unseen.

Friday night and I’m exhausted.  Long week at work and all I want to do is sleep.  Mary Kate has other things planned.  After about the 45th time in our bed for the evening, we’re finally dozing off when suddenly Al hands me Seve, our chihuahua.

“He’s having a seizure.  Take care of him.”  Al says and then drops Seve on my chest, and apparently I’m still sound asleep.  Let me explain, Seve has seizures now and then, and they’re not pretty.  The only thing you can do is hold him until he stops.  But this time it was a bad one, and this time I was sound asleep.
Apparently, Seve lost control of his bladder during this seizure, and managed to do so while he was on top of my chest.  So now it’s 4:30 in the morning and me and my side of the bed are covered in dog pee.  Wonderful. 

We get up, change some of the sheets, and try to go back to bed, but I can’t sleep on my side for obvious reasons, so I head to CB’s room.  Bad move.

Sleeping with CB was like sleeping with Chuck Norris having a seizure.  About 6:00 am and after approximately 45 minutes of sleep, I call it a night and get up for the day.

After a long day, I come home from the bank where I’ve just sold my jeep through craigslist.

“Bad news,” I tell Al.  “I’ve got no way to get to work on Monday.”

“Better news,” Al responds. “We’ve got no where to eat dinner.”  I look around and notice that while I was gone selling my Jeep, Al has sold the kitchen table.

Flash forward a couple of hours and Al is walking through the house carrying a bag full of groceries.  I’m in the floor playing with the girls when CB opens her mouth, and out of the blue, projectile vomits somewhere between 7-8 gallons.  Al sees this and promptly runs out the door screaming.  Trust me when I tell you… that woman does not handle puke well at all.

I’m running back and forth between the bathtub and the den trying to get both CB and the carpet clean, while yelling at Al who is standing about 4 houses over.

I finally get everything cleaned up and CB is settled in my lap in a new pair of jammies.  Everything is fine until, you guessed it, the second wave of puke hits and covers CB, me, and some more of the den floor.  Good times.  This was a sign of things to come, as poor CB went off like this every 45 minutes for the next 24 hours.

I stayed on the couch that night with CB on the floor on an inflatable mattress next to me.  Literally, every 45 minutes the poor girl is up and at it.

Sunday morning rolls around and Daddy is sitting on 46 minutes sleep in 48 hours…more good times.

The two lessons I’ve learned from this:

1)  Inflatable mattresses are easier to clean than carpet.

2)  When you go into one of those minor ER clinics, where the wait times are usually interminable, it’s amazing how fast you get served when you’ve got a child on your lap with a bucket in front of her face.

Girls Gone Wild

Al assures me that the tv really isn’t on that much when she’s home with the girls.  And when it is on, it’s only educational shows of course.  Somehow, I’m beginning to doubt that.

If I’m not mistaken, and I maybe showing my East Texas Roots, but it looks like little Miss MK has picked up a thing or two from the WWF…

Clearly, that’s an old school Jake “The Snake” Roberts leg-lock. I won’t even show you the pictures from when CB turned around and MK grabbed the high chair…horrible

Sunbathing Divas

On a day like today, you just couldn’t keep these girls inside.

“Where’s the sunscreen?  And what’s up with the service around here?  I haven’t seen a waiter in hours.”

“I’m still not sure how she made it past the membership committee.”

Speaking of Talking

This might be a bad omen after the last post about big sister, but I couldn’t resist.  That first word is too important to miss.  Al and I have been hearing it for about a week now, but I wanted independent confirmation before I went public with it.

We were having dinner with some friends tonight and Al was holding MK.  MK was bouncing around and then stops, looks directly at me and says, “Dada!”

Dada…with one word, I’m completely whipped.  It didn’t take CB long to learn this, and now the new princess has Dada wrapped completely around her chubby little finger.