Carlos

Warning, if you do not care about my house, please stop now. I will now proceed to post 5 billion pictures of nearly every room in my house. Be glad it isn't a huge house. I am. Oh, and if you're concerned about the bare walls, just know that Josh is too. He keeps nagging me to hang stuff up, and I keep nagging him to stop nagging me. I've only just decided to try and see who goes insane first from all the nagging.

I'd like to start out with this picture, since it is the reason for living, according to me. This is a picture of my closet. My very own closet. In my room. I don't have to share with Josh. He has his own, too. And we put built-ins in. I love them. Sometimes, I just open the closet and admire it. Needless to say, Josh's closet is a lot neater. Kudos to him and his OCD.

This is our master bath. Yes, we're sick of the color scheme as well. We've had it for 5 1/2 years. Shoot me, please.
I am no good at taking pictures. This the master bedroom. Unlike this picture, the bedroom is actually quite large. There are two closets (if you missed the importance of that, please see above).

This is Rip's bathroom that he doesn't use since it's only a shower and he is unwilling to take showers at this point (so lame). There is a sink and vanity straight across. Imagine it. It's wonderful, I'm sure.

This is Rip's room. He also has a closet, but quite a bit less magnificent than ours. No built-ins, ya see.

Here is the kitchen. Nothing to write home about, but nothing needing dramatic cosmetic overhaul, therefore, exactly something to write home about. I correct myself.

Here is the living room. Not a great picture or angle, but Josh didn't send me the other pictures I took, so here is what you get. You're missing the best part, though. A black console table that has become the apple of my eye.

To the basement!

The basement living room. Bare, yes? Unfortunately, our basement will remain bare. We have no desire (money) to change this fact. We are currently investing any extra dollar into the plague that is our yard.
Downstairs hallway. Large, spacious, and a complete waste of space. Sounds like someone I know.
Basement bathroom that only gets used every other millennium. That being said, we really need to put in the shower curtain, towel bars, etc. etc. etc. Or maybe invest in some blinds. Nah. It's a nice little surprise for anyone brave enough to peek down there.

The laundry room, or lack thereof really. More like the laundry closet. Oh well. This infuriates Josh. Considering he does a good chunk of the laundry, I tolerate his contempt for the laundry facilities.

Basement bedroom #1 / laundry room.

Basement bedroom #2 / Josh's office that he never works in but works on the kitchen table instead, claiming that he likes to be close to Rip and me. I'm suspicious he just likes to be around when I'm making food so he can bum some lunch from me.

Basement bedroom #3 / Rip's playroom that doesn't actually have more than 5 toys.
There. You've met Carlos (the name of our house). Someday, I will post a picture of the outside, but probably not for a long while since we're in the process of destroying the entire plant life. I'll let you know how it goes.

Assault

I've been staring at this picture for the last 30 minutes, and laughing my head off. Thanks Dayna, for sending these to me. The reason it's so funny is twofold. One, Rip is going to punch her unless she starts kissing him back, and two, she is absolutely horrified by the assault. You can see her tiny fist trying to fend off the beastly boy, but really, when Rip wants something he typically gets it. Poor Jayne. She never stood a chance. He really does love her, though. She, on the other hand, finds him to be overbearing (wonder why...) and slightly overweight. Needless to say, she is not impressed by his aggressive love act. I can't say that I'm too surprised though. There's very little gentle snuggling going on in our home. We show love by throwing him 50 feet in the air and then smooching his face all over. So, really, this is Jayne's fault.

And here is a picture of all the babies of the mom lunch group. I wish Rip would have participated willingly, but after we plied him off of Jayne, he made a conscious decision to not cooperate.

SCR -Stomach Content Removal

Several things have been on my mind as of late. Nothing spiritual or awe-inspiring, just the feeble reflections of a simple-minded soul.

First, Rip has taken to throwing up right after he drinks a bottle. No, this isn't spit up. This is throw up. I know this because of the amount of the throw up, the content of the throw up (chunks, anyone?), and the hose-like force of the throw up. It doesn't seem to bother him, he just drinks a bottle, waits a few seconds, and then starts coughing, which if you live in our house, is a clear warning sign of stomach content removal, or SCR, if you will. He is fine before, during, and after, so we figure this is just one of his adorable little quirks (I'm trying to be more positive after going to a party of sorts and realizing that being myself (snarky and sarcastic), wasn't winning me any friends; in fact, I'm pretty sure I was the subject of later discussions, but this will be addressed next).

Next, as mentioned before, I went to a party some time ago and was quickly informed through telling looks and glances, that my attitude is not appreciated everywhere and by everyone. This isn't a huge shock to me, just a gentle reminder that people, particularly the female kind, don't like blunt honesty disguised by sarcasm. After telling some girls about my own experience with having a new baby, I recognized the tell tale signs of shock and horror (so I wanted to get hit by a car? Big deal. Who didn't? And I didn't exactly feel kindly towards the little monster demanding to be nursed every 2 hours? That sound like a lullaby to anyone?). So I made the mistake of opening up too much too soon to those with little or no personality. My mistake.

The third thing going on in my house is Rip being almost 8 months. I've realized I absolutely love this age. From 6 months and on, Rip has been ridiculously fun. A naughty nightmare at times, but fun. He has a personality. Imagine! He moves around like a miniature person (mostly aggravating, but incredibly entertaining as well), and he has a wide range of emotions, versus the cry, smile, sleep cycle he used to be fond of. So really, I've really been enjoying him. It seems easier to take him places, since he's more interested in his surroundings, and I'm not such a slave to his eating/sleeping schedules. Awesome. Maybe if I tell those girls that, they will like me? Probably not since I still don't believe in skinny jeans, and I still won't deny wanting to get hit by a car when Rip was born. Never!

The last thing on my mind, is how I sometimes assume that so long as Rip isn't hanging on my leg and whining, I don't care what he's doing. Not true. After finding him happily chewing on the rag I used to sop up most of his puke, I quickly realized that even I have boundaries. Chewing puke-drenched rags is not okay in my book and neither is Melissa from Biggest Loser. I loath her.