We have been in our house now for almost one month. You know, we bought a house, because that’s what growns ups do, right? A month ago people kept telling me, you’ll feel better in a month once everything is settled. Um, I’m still waiting. I feel like we haven’t accomplished anything. Granted, he left for two weeks about a hot week after settlement (semper fi?) but still, I’ve only located my underwear box a few days ago (don’t ask). Mind you, we bought a house we knew would need work BUT fit our checklist and we got everything we wanted (for the most part) just in a…different light.
I am happy to announce our biggest project is complete and that is what I like to call “WTF is that smell?”. Let me paint a picture for you. It’s the thick aroma of the five dogs that lived here before us paired with a subtle 90 degree Summer day and windows that had been painted shut probably 40 years ago. And carpet. Everywhere. Needless to say, it didn’t matter how many buckets of bleach I went through, and how many Magic Erasers (where have YOU guys been all my life?!) I burn though nothing was getting rid of that stench besides ripping out the carpet. What started out as a little buzz and a loose corner I was curious about turned into a night filled with sweat, rage, cries for help and Bud Light Lime a Ritas. After it was all said and done, I took a deep breath and a big step back to admire my handy work, and maybe even pour myself another bubbly. There it was, I had successfully ripped up about four square feet of carpet and padding. I suck. BUT! He never seems to amaze me, because when I woke up the next morning the ENTIRE thing was up and outside already. Nothing says I love you more than staying up past your bed time to rip up dog pee soaked carpets 🙂
I used the next two weeks of alone time to prep the floors and prime the walls, and just like that, it stinketh no more. I also used this time to do the following:
- convince myself that there is no one hiding in the house waiting until I get in the shower to rob and/or murder me.
- replace the mailbox and post, because ours got either a)accidentally hit by a bat b) was hit by a bat on purpose…can you understand the whole murder thing now? Oh and I lie, my dad replaced it…I just went to Lowe’s and bought it. (remind me to rant about that little trip later)
- mow grass for the first time ever. I let my Dad use the riding mower and I used the push mower. Why didn’t my parents ever make us do that as a chore? That shit sucks!
- kill bugs, lots and lots of bugs.
- see a snake. Run inside. Stay inside. For rest of day.
- feel bad for myself for approximately 90 mins. since he left for training. I treated myself to Chocolate Peanut Butter ice cream cone. Then I got over myself.
So as you can see, I got TON of stuff done (not) but I did clear about a gazillion boxes. Most of which I unpacked realized “what am I supposed to do with this” and relocated to the basement until eternity. As much as I feel like we’ll never be done or we’ve hardly just started, I am starting to feel at home now. It’s finally starting to smell like us, look like us and feel like us. Or maybe it’s just because all that space I had cleared out in the spare bedroom is once again filled with flak vests, digi camis and MREs? 🙂
Great, another grumpy blogger looking to unload via violent pounding of her keyboard and using ALL CAPS when she’s REALLY mad. I swear, I am not a grumpy (well not totally) person by nature. So please, only read on if you can appreciate a little dose of dry humor.
I am the girlfriend of a USMC reservist (Infantry, duh cause it’s the most bad ass) and we are in our mid twenties and here’s the shocker…we didn’t run and get married at the sudden threat of a possible deployment or seperation. We recently bought our first home together after renting for over two years and we both have pretty normal full time civilian jobs. We have been together for almost four years and we also don’t have any kids. Even weirder (is that a word?) right? We don’t even have a pet. We’re at at that age where it seems like everyone we know is engaged, married, healing up from a C-Section or transitioning out of the Corps.
We are none of the above which leads me to my rant. I get it, we don’t have kids. I get it, we aren’t married. I get that there is no possible way we could EVER (ok, caps means business) understand how busy some people are with their diaper duties and marital obligations. This doesn’t make us freaking invalids, it just means we aren’t married (yet) and we don’t have kids (yet). I’m tired of getting the “oh well you just don’t understand” look. Really? You’re right. Most days I don’t even put on a bra, in fact I sit around eating Cheeto’s, scratching my ass and taking three hour naps. My boyfriend’s motivation doesn’t stray far from mine either. He enjoys growing mustaches, playing with his balls and coloring. We also have no idea what real love is. I mean you don’t know REAL love until you’ve planned a wedding you didn’t pay for while your “soulmate” was putting in extra time at the office AKA “BOYZZZ NIGHT!!!!”. Gag.
If all this means we don’t have a clue, then so be it. But here is what we, unmarried, sans children rejects do know how to do:
- Kill bad guys (okay, him so more than me)
- Go days and weeks without speaking or seeing eachother and not totally freaking out and questioning our feelings for one another
- Write love notes and leave them on the kitchen table
- Still send smiley faces and I love yous when we do get to our phones
- Still miss eachother, all the freaking time.
- Make fun of one another with out one person taking it too far (most of the time, except when I’m PMSing, then don’t make fun of ANYTHING)
- Each other’s laundry
- Give each other space
- Get special treats for one another at the store
- Sneak in and out bed carelful not to wake the other person, because of course we work different schedules
- Still look totally hot in dress blue, God damn.
- See eachother on average 6 days a month, less during some months
- Hold hands, even in our sleep.
This is our life. If it was easy everyone would do it, but they don’t. And THAT, you reallllll grown ups is why I am so proud.