Excuses, excuses...

The past few weeks has been incredibly busy. Busy, I hate that excuse. People use it when you really aren't important enough to warrant a real excuse. Seriously, though, I have been really busy. We have spent the last twelve days unpacking, stacking, building, cleaning, scrubbing, organizing, folding, and trashing. We have the downstairs unpacked and everything is where it should be. Upstairs, the baby's room and bathroom are done. As for our bedroom, the guest bedroom and the office nook, that's a different story.

I would really like to have the guest bedroom completely done by OOH, Tuesday, but it isn't going to happen. We have to buy bookshelves. We moved out of a house that had a very large built in bookcase, and hence, we misplaced our shelves. They are most likely in the attic, and we forgot that we'd put them up there.. But at any rate, we are short some bookcases, and we have a lot of books to shelve. I also have decided that I very much dislike the furniture in the guest bedroom. I bought it second-hand for nothing, and now it's showing it. Sometimes furniture just doesn't do well through a move.

Our bedroom will be done when I feel motivated to finish it, and when Not the Momma dumps off the extra 21, 000 pairs of black socks, 21,000 pairs of white socks and 42,000 pairs of boxers. Mostly, it has to do with my motivation. You see, I like unpacking and arranging and finding places for things -- for a few days. But then, I lose interest. Call it Adult ADD, call it laziness, call it what you will. I get bored with unpacking. I am at that point. I have my new beautiful living room and dining room set up, the kitchen is put away (and there are tons of empty cupboards, because, well, there's more cabinet space here), and the baby's toy room is all together. As for the upstairs.. that's when I got bored.

And now it's time for me to quit giving excuses as to why I haven't been posting and why I'm lazy and tired of unpacking, organizing and cleaning. Why? Because Not the Momma took Little Monster upstairs to take a bath, in his fabulously wonderful ducky bathroom. Because even though Little Monster spent the greater portion of the evening whining, when he laughed when Mater was spinning around and running away from the combine in cars, I quit being irritated with him. Isn't it crazy, that kind of love? When you are irritated with someone to the extreme, then they do one silly thing and all the negative feelings melt away? I like it. :)

P.S. If you know my flickr account, I put pictures up there. If you don't, you can email me and I'll give it to you.. But I think there's a link over there --> somewhere.