I'm Sleep-blogging Again

Funny, when I rolled out of bed forty-five minutes ago (after giving up on sleep), I didn't expect to visit Aleighopolis. Yet, here I am. Perhaps when I have something to share in the middle of the night, and everyone else is sleeping, I turn to you! That's right. YOU! Even though YOU are probably sound asleep in your own 500-thread count sheets with the air set at a dehumidifying, ever-so-slightly chilled 73-degrees so-you-can-still-pull-the-down-comforter-up-over-your-shoulder! YOU. Oh, how I envy YOU and your REM....

So what did I want to share, YOU ask? Again, forty-five minutes ago (okay, now fifty minutes ago), I was making my way down the stairs Inspector Clouseau style using my iPhone as a flashlight, and suddenly, I saw movement across the foyer floor. Small, round, furry movement. ZuZu's freakin' hamster, who shall from this point forward be referred to as Houdini (and, maybe, S.O.B.). Thankfully, I didn't scream, break any more furniture, or wet myself. In fact, I'm actually starting to expect the little critter to fly the coup. You see, Houdini managed to escape from his cage THREE times while we were "vacationing" in Indiana last week (providing much entertainment for the 6-year old quadruplets that were pet-sitting during our absence). I'm still not in love with the little rodent, but I hate him a little less than I did a few months ago. I understand him a little better. For instance, I now know that if I put a little food in his green plastic exercise ball, he will happily crawl right inside - eliminating the need for me to physically pick him up, which would cause me to scream, possibly break furniture (or bones), and quite likely wet myself. So, here we are. Me, rat-tat-tatting on the keyboard.....Houdini "rolling" through the house, rattling the big sunflower seeds (which works as well as a bell around his neck).

There are many more things that have happened over the past couple of months that I would love to share....but......nah. I won't bore you. Perhaps I will share snippets every once in awhile. Just a splash of Aleigh...so to speak.

I must say, I was delighted to see the new templates offered by blogger - making the life of an amateur blogger easy-breezy, lemon-squeezy. This one lightened my heart, and made Aleighopolis so sunshiney. Again, making it impossible to resist the urge to stop in for a quick visit.


Bye, bye, Larry King set - Hello, green pastures.

I guess that's all for now. I think I'll leave Houdini inside the green ball and place the green ball inside a laundry basket and place the laundry basket inside the powder room and wedge a towel underneath the powder room door. Maybe then I can convince myself that it's safe to fall asleep.

Freakin' Houdini.

One Down. Eleven to Go.

Wow! My mind is 1/12 freer. Not kidding. I am on my way to a clutter-free cranium!

My apologies for not being much of a motivator for the Project 12 Rooms in 12 Months, but BIG THANKS to all of YOU for motivating ME to complete my first project in the first month. Accountability, people. I made you a promise, and I kept it. And here is my reward:



You know what I love? I love when one of my kids tells me they need a blue erasable pen for school and I can say, "mudroom, bottom right drawer" without hesitation. That's power, my peeps. Check out the big "OM" on my unitard - "Organized Mommy."

If you're wondering what's in those boxes up top, the answer would be, from left to right, top to bottom:

Pictures
Pictures
Fancy present toppers
"Extra parts" for "stuff"
Gifts
Gifts
Gifts
Gifts
Bows & tissue paper
Gift bags
Gifts

The biggest accomplishment in the laundry room was getting all of the clothes upstairs in the proper closet. Claustrophobia cured! My itty-bitty laundry room now feels cozy instead of cramped. Note that I still keep the kids' team uniforms hanging here on the right. Again...

Them: Mom! Where are my baseball pants/shirt/vest/belt/socks?
Me: Laundry room. Hanging up on the right.

Organized Mom saves the day AGAIN!


You know what else feels roomier? This petite little mudroom closet. The over-the-door shoe rack is still filled with all kinds of things - from hole punchers to screwdrivers to fancy empty boxes to packing tape. I find no reason to disturb the organized chaos happening here. But check out the closet innards.....













And now, the piece de resistance....







Surprise! I had my powder room turned into a little jewel box! Isn't it adorable?!? I have a love/hate relationship with wallpaper. I hate "their" wallpaper, but I LOVE MY WALLPAPER! Actually, this is only the third time I have had wallpaper slapped up in my house, and one was a neutral textured paper, but I was looking for a bold, modern floral and this is it!





**DISCLAIMER: Project 12-in-12 is not about spending money on redecorating; however, if it is on the to-do list, "git'er done." **

Voila! So there you have it! My first of twelve rooms (which was actually three rooms rolled into one), is complete! And for my next trick - the living room:



I get a lot of compliments on this room, and at first glance I can understand why. It's trendy, but tasteful...well-balanced...warm and inviting. But, as the owner of this living room, trust me when I say it kills me (that's right, my LIVING room KILLS me).

Look at those 25 cubbies. Shelving units are our best friends and our worst enemies. Three words: Purge. Purge. Purge. And even though this room has been put together over time...pieces purchased for other rooms in other homes, brought together here, it still feels a little "Rooms to Go" to me. I need to edit and add in order to produce a more eclectic vibe, which is more my style.





This corner has always posed a problem...since moving in. It's a great hiding spot behind the foyer closet.




I have a bad habit of this, too. Propping "soon to be hung" items up against the wall. These were "soon to be hung" when we moved in 2 years ago.



And this closet needs the same TLC I showed in the mudroom...




One more thing. Take a look at what used to be a fabulous second-hand find for the "I love me some vintage furniture" shopper girl.




It's a liquor cabinet. Check out how it becomes a server bar. This little number has seen many a wild party in it's heyday.




Why is it lopsided, you ask? That happened Saturday night. No joke. Just two days ago.

Big Daddy was out of town this weekend. ZuZu had a friend stay over Saturday night, and the boys asked a couple of neighborhood friends to spend the night, too. As they were all having a dance party via Comcast On Demand videos in our family room, my neighbor (the boys' mom) was graciously inviting us all down for Belgian waffles and bacon the next morning. Lovely. We continue our chat, which suddenly veers a little off topic.

She: Do you guys have a hamster?

Me: Yeah. (she doesn't read my blog, but I thought she knew this)

She: Is he black?

Me: Yeah! WhyyYY?!? (escalating with realization) IS HE OUT?!?

She: Yeah, he just ran under the couch.

Me: ZUZU!!!!!

At this point, I do a vertical leap somewhere between 6 inches and 6 feet, and my bum comes crashing down on top of this liquor cabinet, which proceeds to make a crunching sound as the wheeled leg is forced through 60-year old rotting wood and slams onto the foyer floor (me, sliding off, running into the kitchen and jumping onto sturdier, more stable Quartz countertopped kitchen island).

The kids have made a barrier across the room, and my friend urges ZuZu to go get the hamster. She's frozen with fear. I JUST NOW find out that Scooter bit my son on the first day we had the stupid hamster, and ZuZu has been afraid to hold him ever since (TOLDYA SO! TOLDYA SO! TOLDYA TOLDYA TOLDYA TOLDYA TOLDYA SO!)

My neighbor's son finally captured the rodent without further incident, and he was placed back in his cage with the non-secured hole NOW taped closed. You all told me it was just a matter of time. Luckily, he was lost & found all at once. In fact, he was kind of found first. He was found, before we knew he was lost.

Freakin' hamster.
Freakin' ZuZu.

p.s. Mudroom Before & Afters will be in an album on my Aleighopolis facebook page.

RIP, Rox. 2003-2010

No more excited barks as I enter my house, welcoming me home from the grocery store or a Zumba class. No more pitter-patter underfoot as I cook dinner, slurping up spilled wine and spaghetti sauce. No more furry, living and breathing throw pillow on my bed, burrowing under the covers at night and resting in the crook of my knees. My freakin' dog is gone. I took him to the vet last Friday morning, and he never came home. Rox has moved on to doggy heaven.

Because I've shared so much about Rox in the few shorts weeks I've been a blogger, I feel compelled to share his last chapter.....

A month ago, Rox had surgery to remove kidney stones. The doctor did the best she could with the mess inside, but it was a rough recovery, and as we now know, he never did truly recuperate (Read post from 2/24 for full synopsis). After being in and out all day last Thursday, I noticed around dinner time that Rox was not acting normal. When I let him out to do his business, I watched closely to make sure all was good there. It wasn't, and immediately I had flashbacks. Can he really have kidney stones again? Already? After being on his special diet? What's a doggy-mom to do? I was prepared to call the vet in the morning. By 9pm that night, the poor guy was pacing and trying to lay down in the oddest of places. Never able to get comfortable, he would whine, cry, and make all sorts of terrible, painful noises. I called the vet's office, hoping to leave a message and hear from someone over night. Never did. By 4am, Rox either finally fell asleep, or just didn't have anything left for complaining. He was quiet for a few hours, laying under my bed (which he only does when he's in trouble or not feeling well). I called the vet and she had me bring him in.

I really felt in my gut that this was it. He looked so sick and tired. I remembered how difficult the previous surgery and recovery was for him, and wondered if going through it all again was even humane. The doctor looked at him, and I could tell in her kind eyes that she was fearful of the same thing. We talked, and her suggestion was to put him under, take a look inside, and if things looked bad, we let the poor dog go. I questioned her about letting the kids come in after school, or me coming back to be with Rox as he slipped away, but she explained that there would be no reason to bring him out of the anesthesia if it was his time. Through my tears (and face contortions), I told her I understood.

How does this lady do this everyday? Tell people when it's time to let go? I'm the one who refers to her pet as "freakin' dog" and makes fun of people who put pics of their animals in frames on their desks (you know the ones, sans kids). I never referred to, or considered my dog my "fourth child." And yet, here I am, bawling my eyes out at the thought of losing him. I needed to call Big Daddy for backup and comfort. I called his office and explained the sit(uation). I told him I would put him on speaker phone so Rox could hear him. After the longest pause ever....Big Daddy choked out his goodbye. I spent the next five minutes holding my baby, hugging him, telling him what a good doggie he was and how much we loved him. I also told him that he had lived a good life, and if he needed to, he could leave us now and rest. It's weird. I remember telling my grandpa the same thing years ago as he slept in his hospital bed. It was the last time I saw him alive, too.

I was in my kids' school gym, setting up decorations for the next night's big fundraising event when I got the call. Doc informed me about ill-placed scar tissue, the risk of infection, etc., etc. I thanked her for all she had done, and told her to proceed with the most humane decision. She said she was glad we took the time to look, so we knew without a doubt, it was indeed the best thing for Rox. I hung up my cell, walked into a backstage closet, and again, bawled my eyes out.

Big Daddy came home early to help me break the news to the kids. I won't go into too much detail here. Of course, they were very upset and there were more tears. MT blinked back his tears, and quickly assumed the role of "cheer everyone up" guy for the rest of the night. I didn't realize how strong he is. I have forbidden any and all books, movies, and tv specials having to do with dogs for the time being. I think Hong Kong Phooey would be too much for us right now - Marley & Me (currently playing on HBO) would surely send us into hysterics.

Sunday, the decorating committee again called me to the school gym - this time for clean-up. I spent two and a half hours undoing everything we had done over the last two months. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, I walk in the house (ungreeted) and find not much has been done since I left. I'm wondering why cereal boxes and bowls are still sitting on the table when it's lunchtime. ZuZu pops into view and begins talking in her really high "I'm excited" voice:

ZuZu: Mom, I cleaned my room! Come look. It's totally organized!

(she emphasizes this word, knowing how happy the thought of it makes me).

Me: Okay, let me just have a bite of this tomato pie. I'm starving! Did you guys have cereal for lunch?

ZuZu: No. But Mom, come see my room. Nobody else can see it until you see it.

Me: Okay, okay. I'm excited to see, just give me a minute to throw this in the oven. (translation: I just spent over two hours pouring out old, stale beer and disassembling centerpieces. Not really interested in your sock drawer right this minute).

I'm standing outside her door, and ZuZu makes me close my eyes. She tugs on my hands as we walk into her room, over her shaggy rug, and onto the other side of the room. This is far away from her sock drawer. What gives?

ZuZu: Okay, open your eyes!



Me: What the - ?!?



Freakin' hamster.