The Week He Went Away: Part 2

So, I have six days left before Mr. Man comes home, his dresser is in two, and I am quickly losing the respect of my eight-year-old son as he helps me drag several dressers upstairs to hide the evidence.  Perhaps your mother is a bit crazy, I think, as I look at him heave-hoing on the other end.  If you are just joining me, you have read this first.

The Search:

I need to get to an appointment the next day which is several kilometres away, so I take the opportunity to search through secondhand stores for dressers. I search and I search. I panic a bit. But I keep searching.

All I need is a decent dresser, and I can paint it if need be. That's what I was supposed to do in the first place.  I find huge, ugly, heavy ones that would not fit into the van, and I find teeny tiny ones that wouldn't even hold all of his socks.  A friend told me to look at some brand new ones, and the price tag was ridiculous.

The Confession:

The best way to confess, I've found is either while you have scissors in his hair, giving the scheduled haircut, or in this case, while texting him in Edmonton.

Him: I'm looking for a gift for you but I think it might be too expensive.

Me: Same here.

Him: What?

Me: I have a confession. I cut up your dresser and now I have to buy u a new one.

Him: Oh. Take back those 14 pillows you bought, and you can afford one.  (I like pillows.)

Obviously he was having too good a time to really care about a dresser he hated in the first place. But he wasn't keen on me paying for a new one, either.  Especially since he was spending so much on this trip out to Alberta.

The Find:

Finally, two days before he came home, my super niece (now 16-years-old, woot-woot!) and I lugged a 5' long ugly brown dresser out of the Salvation Army for $20.  Samantha, who swears she will buy my book of crazy someday, kept shaking her head and saying, "I can't believe we just picked up a dresser".

Really, she shouldn't be surprised by now.  She's been around me enough.

Here is "The Before":

The Fix:

So the kids and I got working, unscrewing the handles, setting up a painting station out in the mudroom, and by the time Mr. walked through the door early one morning, the paint was drying and he would soon have a dresser.  Phew.

So here is "The After":
I primed and painted with spray cans (I am very impressed with how little it took), leaving it an antique white and then painted the handles a Tremclad brown which kept a nice sheen.

He likes it, (I know he misses the periwinkle sometimes), but it is keeping together well, and at least his socks fit into it.  It sits nicely between our two bedroom windows, and my favourite painting by Mrs. Google sits above it.  My first Sally-Ann refurnish! 

So now...what to do with this? 

Erin

The Week He Went Away

This post has been a long time coming as life has filled up my days, and funny stories with Little Miss have taken the forefront of my "nutters" blog.  But some of my faithful followers have been asking when I'm going to talk about what I did the week Mr. Man went away.

Now I don't tend to sit still for very long, as my mind gets working on the "what if?" questions and "oh, look what's on Pinterest!" exclamations.  Despite his support, Mr. often rolls his eyes, and whispers to our son, "Your mother's crazy."

Hmph. Am not.

On a particular Monday night, Mr. left with friends on a week long trek out to Alberta.  Tuesday morning I dragged out several dressers in the house, carried them downstairs and prepared to make a stunning, lots of drawer space, spectacular, "oh, you are amazing and so thoughtful" surprise for my husband.

I knew what I was doing. My dad's a carpenter.

Originally I was going paint it an elegant antique white, and change the knobs, but then I thought:

1. Ooooh, he'd LOVE a bigger dresser!  Let's combine his tall boy with one of Little Miss's and make one wide dresser, similar to this:

Centsational Girl

2.  When I realized that all the highboys in our house were different heights, I found this one on Pinterest, and thought I could stack them!

Before Meets After

So I measured and measured again, and it would work! (So I thought). Once stacked, however, the top drawer was actually over 6 feet up, even too tall for the Dutchman I married.  So what next?

3.  Let's cut off the bottom drawer! 

Again, no sweat.  I am a carpenter's daughter.

Now I may be a bit naive, but I knew power tools were out of the question without someone hear to apply pressure and drive me to the hospital. I found a bunch of handsaws in the basement and went to work, sawing horizontally around the fourth drawer, slowly, so I didn't get "sawer's shoulder" or some real-life ache like that.  It took a while. Once it was finished, it looked like this:

OK, it's not made of spectacular material, but my friend, Paul, said he was impressed how straight I cut it.

Well that's because I am a carpenter's daughter!

I lifted the upper part containing three drawers on top of another wider dresser, and it looked great - until I looked at it from the side.  It was hanging two inches off the back of the bottom dresser, and there was no way to hide it.

By this time it was 4 o'clock, and I had accomplished nothing. A feeling of dread came over me and I sat down on the couch. I just sawed my husband's dresser in half.  The same dresser that my parents had in Yellowknife when I was little. I felt really ill.

And so I thought,

4.  I have to buy Mr. Man a new dresser.

This isn't the end of the story, but at this point I did learn something. When looking back over the years of partnering with my Mr., I could run through numerous ideas I've had where he said, "NO."  I'd pout, and sometimes get my way, but ultimately he was always right. It wasn't a good idea.

So, while I am the imaginative, spontaneous one (in my safe, little world, mind you), Mr. Man is the sensible, "seeing the big picture" one.  And together we make a great pair.

When he decides to go away for a few days, this is what happens.

So really, it is all his fault.

Erin

Mother's Day 2013: A Terrarium for Mom

After hours of playing with rocks, dirt and plants, the kids and Mr. Man brought in two homemade plant terrariums for Mother's Day! And with leftover plants and dirt, the family taught me to make a terrarium for my mom! 

Can you see what the fairies forgot?  Mom will love it :)

From our house to yours,

Happy Mother's Day!

Erin

The Lunch Rescue

As the kids and I walked in the back door today after picking them up from school, Little Miss went right into one of her lengthy stories.

Lunches are a big deal around here. The kids put them together themselves, some sort of fruit, a yoghurt, a sandwich containing healthy stuff, and whatever snacks we have in the pantry ready to go. I check at the end of the morning to make sure they have enough (or to make sure Little Miss hasn't made just a butter sandwich), and off we go to school. I also hate it when they don't eat their sandwiches, which then becomes their supper...but today we are talking about not having enough.

Apparently, I did not check their lunches this morning, because Little Miss launches right into the defensive "let's confess all our sins right away so as not to delay the inevitable".

"I didn't have enough in my lunch," she states, straight-faced, hands up in the air.

"Actually, I did but by second break I had only an orange and I ate that and then I had nothing. So I asked him [pointing to her brother] if he had anything --"

"-- and I had crackers," he says.

"And you gave them to her?" I ask.

"Yes, but Mrs. D said, well, I asked her, and she said it was okay --"

"-- she said it was okay because we are brother and sister,"  Little Miss butts in. There is a strict sharing of lunches rule at our school because of all the allergies in our town.

I stood there for a moment without saying anything, and the kids stood there in silence waiting to see what I would say.  Am I supposed to get mad because she didn't pack enough? Or for risking school rules? What exactly is she on the defensive for? Let me think.

And then I realized...they SHARED! He RESCUED her!

"Aww," I said, and gathered them up in my arms, squishing their not-so-little faces together, "I love you guys - you worked together! It just warms my heart." And I gave my little monster a big kiss on the cheek.

"I knew I should've gone the other way," he mumbled and ran off the other way around the kitchen table.

One hour later they were kicking and screaming at each other over a worm in the yard.

Sigh.  How long until their dad gets home?