Kitchen Remodel: Phase I

Posted on January 25, 2012 by Scattermom

Yes, it’s Phase I– of Version 3. This isn’t the first transformation for our kitchen and all the big ticket items (new floors, cabinets, appliances that aren’t brown) have long been paid for. But thus far, the total investment in Version 3 of Redesign That Kitchen is $56. $50 for low VOC Benjamin Moore paint + $6 for sponge rollers. Everything else (to include the materials for the building projects) existed down there in the region some folks call a basement. I currently call it 1200 square feet of wasted space since it’s housing a whole bunch of junk and projects to-be-determined. Part of my current obsessed motivation is getting that square footage back. Small People–and their things– take up a ridiculous amount of room.

So, version history of this kitchen?

Version I
The kitchen had blue flower vinyl flooring, complimented by the light blue dining room carpet and brown wood paneling in the dining room. And the dry-clean only curtains with giant brass thingy. Yes, we did buy this house with a dining room that looked like that picture. We replaced that carpet and the vinyl

Version 2
Look closely– beyond the christmas tree–

We tried to salvage the original cabinets with a few coats of paint–they were, after all, real wood. However, even good paint couldn’t cover the old-lady-with-bad-kitty cabinet smell. Sniffle– look how little Z is in this picture. Totally unaware I was gestating his arch nemesis– aka, little brother.

And for 24-odd months, I lived with that kitchen.

Version 3
But at about 7 months pregnant with E– and nesting like a damn pigeon in an electric store sign– we used tax refund money to sorta upgrade the cabinets. Tax refund money and the expertise of a friend’s impulsive offer to help (meh-heh-heh). At that point, basic stock cabinets was an upgrade. A smart upgrade, since we live in a transitional neighborhood (aka, homes values probably won’t decrease, but it’s anyone’s guess if they will increase). When upgrading a house in a transitional neighborhood, one must be very careful to temper personal own taste with common sense.

Was the kitchen okay, as is? Yeah, I guess so. It wastes a ton of space and it’s not very user friendly for the Small People. The Small People who really, really want to help do things– like unload the dishwasher and set the table. They are already hanging up their own laundry thanks to my installation of wire shelves and a closet rod within their reach. I feel wrong by not giving them what they want with the helping thing!

So, between pinterest, a lives-in-my-computer friend/DIY person, and the desire to use my children for manual labor, I began to get motivated. If y’all didn’t know, an ADHD person with their meds and motivation can do amazing things. Include in that a husband who leaves the country for a week, kids that go to bed at 7pm, and same ADHD lady who can’t burn off any of that gee-gee-gee-gee energy by running, and you end up with this.

By the way– don’t think I’m ignoring the children– most of this good-times-fun happened during naptime or after bed. The other little bits? Well, never underestimate what can be accomplished in 20-30 minute spurts. Of course, there was also a casualty– RIP dish drainer that was in the oven during the preheat cycle. You had a good run.

As of tonight, most everything has had it’s second pass of the top coat, so the painting should be done tomorrow. That’s the real bitch with painting cabinets– it takes time (most of it of the drying/preparation variety) to do a good job. But after the last bit dries, the really fun stuff is next– building!

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The Beauty of Love

Posted on January 18, 2012 by Scattermom

This was the little story that JB and I (snort, who we kidding, it was I, all I) included on our wedding announcement. Sweet, hunh?

Now, that I rediscovered the thing a few hours after screeching for him to bring me crowbar? Just amusing.
That he brought me the crowbar, with the only comment delivered being a reminder to not accidentally knock a hole in the wall? That’s trust– trust I haven’t necessarily earned.

But, hey, when I did this to the wall, in a different room, a week later, I had it patched long before he got home!

Why is the trust so impressive? Well, I ask you all– do you know what your couch looks like under the fabric and foam?

I do. I absolutely know that most couches are made of a few pieces of wood and some really strong cardboard. Why? Because I took a reciprocating saw to our old one once, just to see.

Any-hoo. I needed that crowbar because I was doing my own version of Habitat for Humanity for the homeless stuff in our house. Mostly mine. And the Small People. Not much of it is JB’s. That’s the issue with DIY (and ADHD). A person needs supplies if they are going to craft their own environment. An ADHDer goes and buys those supplies, shoves them in a drawer, laundry basket, box, bag, or closet which promptly wipes stuff’s existence from working memory. Then, while frantically looking for a missing plastic shark for the Smallest Small Person, she opens up a box, and it’s christmas all over again.

I can’t even claim this behavior is new– I’ve always been this way. Which is probably why I hooked up with a guy who moved the totality of his belongings in a Saturn Coupe, whilst I needed a 17 foot uhaul.

Then the hoarder and the minimalist had two children, whereupon they realized their stuff spreads like kudzu over a southern telephone pole. And just like kudzu, you can metaphorically burn that shit to the ground, only to step on the sharpest part of a lego brick which is lying in mocking repose right next to your bed, the very next morning. True story: I threw away a plastic kazoo 17 million times– before finally crushing it to death in the driveway and throwing it in the neighbor’s trashcan. Never underestimate the staying power of a cheap (yet costly in its annoyance factor) toy.

I started with some free wire shelving and some not-so-free tracks and brackets (why, pray tell, are those damn brackets $3.50 each? Because if you don’t want the shit to fall down, you have to buy them, that’s why). And technically those shelves were installed a few months ago– just not correctly and were being held up with duct tape, which just isn’t safe.

Thus it went from this:

to this:

Ahhh— I might not be able to get a whole room of my own, but dammit I made myself a writing nook–as per my not-resolution resolution’s list to write more. And no nook would be complete without my Quixote, ready to tilt at some windmills. And all the old shoe boxes I decoupaged, thus saving them from JB’s need to throw away the things I’m saving finishing the planned upcycling project.

One mess done, one giant one to go.

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Bunk Bed Tents

Posted on January 4, 2012 by Scattermom

Before anyone starts doing the cough-laugh thing whilst whispering “bless her heart” to themselves… I know. I feel the same way about the tent portion of the bed tent. The images on the inside? I traced what they wanted from that google place onto leftover scrap material, added some acrylic paint (and some glow in the dark paint) and was done in an hour. JB did the Millennium Falcon, after he fell to the floor laughing about how my version looked like a penis with some sort of testicle disease.

I had many,many dreams for the bed tents (damn you, pinterest!) But dreams are dreams and reality is, well. Life. :D

Dream: You wait until the last minute (December 21st…) for stuff like this, while blithely waving your hand, saying, “it’ll take me an hour– tops”.
Reality: Your youngest child will puke that night followed by your oldest, 48 hours later. In between they will seek your love and attention. You will feel like a douchebag for ditching them to sew. You sigh and sit with your children. As it should be.

Dream: You will decide to wait until Christmas night, since you know you are getting a new sewing machine.
Reality: Sixteen seconds after you get motivated to unpack the new toy, you– and the rest of the street, oy he’s loud– hear your husband vomit. He will then spend the first 2 days of vacation either holding down the couch, or sitting really still on the floor watching cars spin on a track. I must pause and give some love– he was made a strong effort to play enough with the kids that I wasn’t bombarded the entire time.

Dream: Your husband is finally well enough to take kids away from the house for a 3 hour window. You can finish the tents!
Reality: You realize that the very reinforced window is crooked as hell. You will also realize that the up-cycled bed sheet is so old that ripping out seams is not an option. You nash your teeth, figure out a way to hang the monstrosity in the living room window and stare at it for 2 days.

Dream: You’ll just start over, you think.
Reality: Your kid has already said he didn’t care about the crooked window. If you start over you are in direct conflict with the “not everything has to be perfect”** life vibe you keep preaching.

Solution: You do your tracing thing and hot glue gun the pictures over the crooked window, which will now face the wall. Then you glance at your shiny new sewing machine and the now-hated bed tent. You feel the weight of the already heated glue gun. You hot glue gun the rest of it– sewing be damned.

**will resist urge to obsess about making upgraded bed tents. will…resist…**

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Can’t call it a bucket list…

Posted on January 1, 2012 by Scattermom

Because, as my DH pointed out– we don’t plan to die in 2012, thus a kick the bucket list isn’t really appropriate. I don’t want to call them resolutions, because those are 1) what everyone else is doing, and 2) has, in the past, represented a list of things for which we eventually fail.

JB and I tried for all of 5 minutes last night, (while watching South Park reruns; we par-tay on New Year’s Eve round here) to come up with some witty replacement. To Do list– heavy on the witty, yes?

In no particular order.

    1. Go camping
    2. Run a half marathon (me, maybe JB)
    3. Read more than 3 popular fiction books (JB)
    4. Read 5 of those classic books that I totally pretend to have read because I was, you know, an English major for awhile and therefore would never, ever read the cliff notes instead of the novel. {cough}
    5. Learn how to make at least six four interesting dinners eaten by anyone with working thumbs.
    6. Stop considering how neat it would be write down some of those random story ideas and actually just do it.

    True story: you know what they call an embarrassingly untalented published author? Published.

    7. Be *in* more pictures. I have a hard-drive’s worth of fantastic photos–of everyone else. Me? Um, I looked for a picture of myself one day… Yeah, I need proof of both my smiling presence for all this family fun I plan. Otherwise I’m just the byotch that packs the snacks. That’s not okay.
    8. Stop. Wasting. So. Much. Of. Everything. Okay, so this applies to me certainly– I am no icon of frugality. However, in this house I’m the least offensive of the water/electricity/food waste folks. I kinda want to plant little microchips in all three of them programmed with the Joshua’s voice from WarGames*. Instead of “shall we play a game” it would murmur “shall we turn off the damn lights”.
    9. Clean up at least one toy on New Year’s Day (Zach)
    10. Drive a race car and ride a dolphin. Tomorrow (Elliot)

*If you got the WarGames reference without following the hyperlink…well, I think that adds cool points to a person, but I equate geek and cool points. So.

I’m already getting brownie points for being in-pictures. Here’s one of JB showing me affection (in public, people).

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Time for the Lysol

Posted on December 23, 2011 by Scattermom

I’m going to talk about puke. And not the oh-I-had-fun-with-tequila-puke, either. The, oh-right-I’m-mom-and-you-just-vomited-and-want-my-comfort-puke.

So, if talk of vomit offends (or nauseates) you, click the back button with all due haste.

Words I will say a lot: puke, vomit, poo. Not because I’m just a mom and my life has lost all meaning; but because I am their mom and seeing them vomit makes me ache in that special place.

The place of, “oh hell, here we go again” and “argh— please don’t get any of that on me!” and “dear lord, you could at least try to hit that giant trash can next to your head!”

First off, and I mean this in just the nicest way. When I see kids dropping like flies from various viral complaints around the holidays, Ms. Grinchy The Suspicious assumes that some asshat mom chose to bring her known-sick kid out in public, because Darling Precious would be oh-so-disappointed to miss mall Santa and we mustn’t disappoint Precious!

The more benevolent side hopes that is was just clueless mom, like me. See, E had this puke 3 times, cry a lot, virus with no fever a few days ago. After 24 hours symptom-free, to include wall-climbing and couch-bouncing, I happily sent them both to Gram’s house to bake cookies this morning.

Thus, I find some benevolence in my soul that perhaps it wasn’t asshat mom, but didn’t-know mom. I mean, the Z was fine, all day, until 14.6 seconds after putting the iPad away I heard him puking in the bathroom. Barring spit-up, I don’t think he’s puked three times in his life before tonight, and here we are on number 4.

And, doubly-poor kid, Z’s a through-the-nose puker. Which is always gross, but coupled with him being my sensitive to all bad smell’s kid? Lucky for him I watch all that crime drama… I smeared vick’s vapor rub under his nose a la’ crime scene investigators.

And in case you were thinking, “but wait– I was also promised poo!” don’t despair. I spent most of the afternoon/early evening cheering/massaging/threatening a constipated E. To the tune of singing songs about the Poo Choo Train needing to leave the station. All while weighing the appropriateness of introducing him to Mr. Hanky. And giving my first ever liquid suppository.

This. This is the glamorous life I was seeking when I was a childless party girl. Though, to be fair, it’s not as if that life was vomit-free, either. Oh, tequila shots with my bosses. Good times, blurry memories.

That said, a more-eeyore person would be all holiday bummed. Not me, not yet. One, there’s no fever/body aches, which means no flu. Two, I can apply Occam’s razor to E that his issue is from dehydration and lack of exercise — and not the potentially deadly bowel obstruction link that I had just clicked on webmd, when Z let loose on the top bunk. Three, both my kids having rocking immune systems, and they both dig my anti-nausea (but not the sinus sooth) hippie tea. Four, my husband doesn’t have it yet. Because, really, a puking husband is worse than 2 puking Small People.

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For you to be right

Posted on December 17, 2011 by Scattermom

…I don’t have to be wrong. Or vice versa. Well, unless you are arguing about 2 + 2 and my answer is 5, because then I’m wrong. I can argue about science (no the dinosaurs were not chilling with the caveman), but I can’t say for certain whether there is something on the other side of the black hole. Science has proven one, but not the other. And whether ye be full of faith or secularly inclined, that stuff is personal.

I had a conversation with a believer friend (sorry, SWR!) about why non-believers shouldn’t celebrate Christmas (or Xmas, or Krismas, etc.). I’ve been involved in debates about the appropriateness in supporting (boycotting) businesses based on their insistence for including (excluding) the word “Christmas” this time of year. Meh- I don’t go out of my way in either direction just because of a phrase. Now, if you are an asshat company like Chick-fil-A, that’s different. If you happen to be an asshat company that also uses eggs in their nuggets when you have egg-allergic children, even better for maintaining my boycott.

**Weep, I really loved chick fil a. But pinterest might have saved me from my sadness. **

We are a family of nonbelievers. Well, two of us are nonbelievers; the Small People, currently strong believers* in The Santa, will have to decide on their own spiritual flavor. But my non-believing self simply adores (until about now– right this moment, I’m sort of done with the whole thing) all of the hoopla surrounding the very pagan celebration of this time of year. Why? Look outside. December is a grey, depressing month. Often cold, though here that is not often met with snow. This year it’s just grey and hot. Which is also depressing.

**By the way, the eldest of the Small People is still a quasi-believer, despite last year’s abrupt murder of Santa. “By baby Jesus, no less. I say quasi, because he’s skeptical partly because of the murdering thing and partly because he’s hold enough to have philosophical conversations with his peebs.

That tree? The mistletoe? That yule log? Those holly wreaths? All of them originated long before christianity. A nice smelling tree and/or yule log makes total sense if you are of European decent– where the winters were long, the days dark, and the mass of people stuck in the same building were ripe with the funk from being inside. Oh, and especially if your heat was provided via fire, and you could possibly have need of dry wood. All of this I explained to the oldest of the Small People, which led to my also explaining that there was once a time when people had to carve bowls out of rocks, instead of buying them from Target.

Him: “But that’s gross, Mom. Animals pee on rocks.
SL: “Yeah, they didn’t have soap either. Or cars. Or glass. Or google.
Him: No google? But how did they figure out how to make the rest of the stuff without google?”

**grin, that’s mah boy.”**

In general, I don’t much care about the why of people celebrating. I’m very much of a do-your-own-thing-until-you-get-snotty-about-me-doing-my-own-thing type of person. Or until you try and pass legislation solely motivated on your thing. That ain’t cool.

The definition of the reason for the season is a personal one, but the origins? Not open for so much interpretation– and what does it matter? For heaven’s sake, if you want to decorate your tree with a thousand glass baby jesus ornaments, I could care less. But judge ye not my tree filled with ornaments like this:

There’s enough holiday cheer for everyone. Except for those (and there are way too many) struggling just to pay their bills and feed their families. They could use some holiday cheer from all of us.

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Inroverts versus Extroverts

Posted on December 12, 2011 by Scattermom

Okay, I always chuckle when folks start trying to talk about introverts/extroverts. And I’m chuckling because I’m a Ms. Talky Pants whose brain curls into the fetal position when I spend too much time with other people. More unfortunate is that I can go from being totally stoked and jazzed up in a crowd, to brain shut-down in about 4.6 seconds.

But as both an introvert AND a woman with ADHD, I can totally relate to this post about the 10 myths about introverts. It sounds like the book he mentions needs to be on my christmas list.

Why? Because despite being talkative, loud, and totally comfortable with being the center of attention, I’m an absolute introvert. Am I capable of making small talk chit-chat with strangers and friends alike? Of navigating large crowds of people? Of being “out and about”. Well, sure. I’m capable. But my recharge time is much longer. And requires me to be alone.

Have you ever tried to be alone in a smaller house, with 3 other (male) people? And two dogs. I’m not a helicopter mom, but I do have helicopter kids.

What’s more interesting to me is the scientific connection this book suggests between introverts and dopamine. Lack of dopamine availability also being one of those things tossed around in the ADHD Land.. Which makes sense to me– dopamine problems cause information overload, and brains shut down. Dopamine is produced in the anterior frontal cortex of the brain, which also happens to be associated with focus and attention.

Now, what chafes my inner thighs, are those people (extroverts and non-ADHDers) that not only don’t get it– they don’t even try. If I hear, “well just do XYZ, it’s not that hard” one more time, I might flip. No one would look at a leukemia patient and say, “just make working bone marrow”. But take something that can’t be shown on a lab report and so start the nay-sayers who have no problem at all in suggesting that I should just stop being the way I am.

And, yeah, I take Dextroamphetamine so I can calm down– and function. Yes, I could drink 8 cups of coffee a day without suffering from any excess wakefulness, shakes or jitters (I don’t anymore– that’s why I have a prescription now). So this makes me strange? A little, I guess. Or maybe it’s the typically-brained that are the strange ones now– my people seem to be outnumbering yours, you know.

I’ve never looked at an extrovert and said, “hey, you’re broken because you can’t keep your own company for longer than an hour”. Personally, I think my ability to be alone without being lonely is a character trait, not flaw.

I’ve never looked at a non-ADHDer and asked them why they are only capable of having one idea at a time. I mean, I’ve certainly thought it, but to say it out loud would just be rude. I can’t even begin to quantify how many times folks said my issues are an excuse or that I’m somehow abnormal for the way my brain works. What’s worse, is that I sometimes have those doubts of myself, wondering why I can’t manage stuff that others around me do so seamlessly.

Then I think about all of the wonderfully strange ideas I have in a single day. And how I see the world in such a lovely off-beat way. It’s nice to realize that I like my introverted and distracted brain just fine.

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DIY Christmas Tree Memory Ornament

Posted on December 10, 2011 by Scattermom

So, I’ve mentioned my obsession with pinterest, right? Any website that directs me to a place where I learn how to fold an origami box

for a ridiculously large pool noodle wreath AND how to do an overnight sock curl for my hair? This is my place.

Ha. Place. Like the internet is a tangible world. /Wait? It isn’t?/

So, I’ve had 16 clear glass ornaments for 3 years. I bought them on clearance during my E postpartum hormone binge. They then found their way onto that high closet shelf where my ideas go to wither and die. But these didn’t die– instead I would spuriously rediscover them every January. Until last January’s discovery, where a perfect storm of cleaning and ADHD medication prompted me to actually go put them with the other holiday decorations. It’s the little things that seem the most obvious (and simple) that kick my butt every time.

JB is out of town, which means I should be all sad about being on-tap for the solo parenting gig, especially during the crazy psychosis period that is Small People Leading up to Any Major Holiday. But instead I gleefully spread all my crafty stuff, covering every flat surface in the house. The kids might mention the cramped (nonexistent) sitting space– but then I turned on Mario Kart for an hour to buy their silence.

I am not ashamed.

Last night, I stumbled upon marblized glass ornaments.

Boo-ya. Easy-peasy. Okay, mine still need some loving (practice) but, dude. How simple is this? SO.Simple. Theoretically a 5 year old could do it– if they could handle watching paint dry. Which they can’t.

Where it gets exciting for me was thinking to make ornaments for each Small Person and some of their yearly highlights/interests. I went ahead and did some for JB and I, too. New family tradition? Done. Advice? Use the plastic ornaments for this one– E broke his within 10 minutes of it hitting the tree.

Not all my crafty projects have been successes. I plain a “FAIL” post when I’m finally done. Now I either need to go to bed or attempt a Batman snowflake. Thanks, Cathi. Just thanks. :)

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Happy Holidays!

Posted on December 7, 2011 by Scattermom

No, really. Happy Holidays. And maybe even Merry Christmas, but when I say it I really mean, Merry Time of Santa Claus, Good Cheer and Delicious Apple Cider.

I’ve seen this blog post circulated around facebook for a few weeks, but it keeps sticking in my head. And since it keeps coming back AND I was just at the mall last night…

The only one who can take your Christ out of your Christmas is you.
How do you take Christ out of Christmas? You take Christ out of Christmas every time you:
Don’t take the high road.
Are less than loving, and patient, and kind.
Gossip, complain about, and judge others.
Are slow to listen and quick to anger.

Yeah. That. Actually, a lot of what she says. Including:

There are actual problems in the world, and whether someone says “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays” is not one of them.

Now, for me–and contrary to the author of the original–I do feel like the overall message of Jesus– kindness and goodwill to all mankind– is not fully represented in the celebration of his birth (not in December, BTW. The significance of Dec. 25th relates to the Roman celebration for the rebirth of the sun god, Saturn.) I mean, one of the most memorable times of JC loosing his cool is with the vendors selling schwag at his temple. Methinks he’d prefer his birthday to be a little less flashy… but I’m totally just guessing.

Even with all that, I’m not suggesting that gifts shouldn’t be purchased, or even that I don’t struggle with getting caught up in the holiday hoopla of extreme excess (people, retail stores theme the tempo of their music to make you buy more. Make a playlist and take some ear buds. Save yourself.) But the sheer mass consumption this time of year? Overlaid by the parallel conversations about the reason for the season? Yeah, the dissonance strikes me deep in my sarcastic heart. Right in the place where irony lives.

I try to stay out of walmart/target/toy-r-us for the same reason I avoid buffet-style restaurants– piss poor impulse control. Bright lights– preferably blinking in beat to the overhead musack; BOGO deals? The only medications that could suppress my ADHD in the face of that sort of visually stimulating retail porn is an Ambien. And I have to be the one who shops, because I’m the one who stores the color/character/tagless shirt preferences that are the MOST IMPORTANT THING EVER to a Small Person.

So if you see me out there in the world, with my ear buds rocking 90s hip-hop, and my mouth chomping on gum… don’t distract me by saying hello, m’kay?

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No, Don’t throw that away!

Posted on November 30, 2011 by Scattermom

I am sort of a hoarder-light. There are so many things that I can look at and think, “NO, that’s not GARBAGE! It can be reused. Into what, I have no idea.”

My darling husband is more of a, once a shower curtain, always a shower curtain kind of guy. So when our dog decided to protest the Small People by eating most of the puzzle pieces JB would have tossed the leftovers.

But I saw future opportunity! Snatching up the square tiles and hiding them adding them to my craft collection, they sat patiently for 3 years.

Apparently I’m on an anti-Pottery Barn kick. Because as I flipped through their christmas decorations and saw these signs (and prices), I immediately thought about my lonely puzzle boards.

Pottery Barn Hanging Signs

In two nights of half-watching South Park and Robot Chicken with the husband, I made these. Not perfect, not totally done. More importantly? Definitely not $100 worth of once-a-year-signs. I’m going to guesstimate my cost at $10 bucks, because once upon a time I had to buy the puzzles, the paint and the brushes. But they were all in-house when I got inspired. Which is why I don’t throw anything away.

Scattermom version

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