April 7, 2009

• Having a bedskirt doesn’t make Charlie a bigger fan of his crib, but I can finally say I finished his bedding.   Whew, much harder to do on post partum hormones than the feverishly frantic nesting ones.   I finally got the pictures hung in their bedroom too.  This house is driving me crazy.   It’s got angry eyes like the Mr. Potato Head.   I walk out of my bedroom in the morning and the blank hallway glares at me as if I’m mocking its naked walls.   The living room has more unfinished work than Boston’s big dig (although please God may it not take me that long), and I have a daunting to do list that has seventy three blinking neon projects on it.  *groan*  I did get the furniture rearranged (with help because home decorating is nothing like photography), and so it looks better…. a little better; just better enough to make the empty walls look at me even more accusingly. Gah
     My complaints truly are quite pitiful and ungrateful I know, but sometimes I wish I had my wee little house back.  The walls liked me there.

  

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