Saturdays are for

Garage sale fail: Note to self, don't take it personal when people walk away from your junk. It is not a judgement call on you, your style or the style that you clothe your children in. You weren't that fond of it yourself hence the garage sale. Maybe they didn't need infant summer clothing in sizes 6-9 months.  Right. They totally loved every item you had but they just didn't need it because if they had they would have offered you top price, fought over everything even! Oh well. At least we made a little Christmas money and sold the old ugly table. 

Having nervous breakdowns: I L-O-S-T it today with a capital C for extra crazy. They were all crying, whiny, complaining, crawling on me, throwing mac n cheese on the floor, blaring My Little Pony from the tv, talking to me about money, biting each other, racing the loudest monster trucks ever made, mocking my sanity AT THE SAME TIME. And I cracked.  To be more precise I cracked my lips and out flew the loudest, foulest football-coach-mates-with-mommy-dearest-and-their-offspring-is-a-marine-drill-sargent voice the world has ever heard. If birds had flown by our window at that moment they would have dropped dead from terror. And the worst part is that I hate to yell. I hate to even raise my voice. Prior to having kids it would zap the energy right out of me to talk in what most would consider a normal conversational level. It was the only demure, Southern Belle quality I possessed. People would actually make fun of me if I attempted to get someone's attention, even a few steps away. "Umm excuse, uh, pardon me, oh um. Sir,  I hate to be a bother but uh....Sir!" But lately another person (a real nutcase) has taken over my body and is making me do all kinds of new things like shout! scream! shriek! and scowl! The pretty, soft spoken Southern Belle has been all but bludgeoned out of me.  Finally coming to terms with this "personality" shift, I admitted to Patrick the other night how umm, unpleasant I'd been the last few years. Prior to a certain "lifestyle change" I was always so happy. Pleasant. Serene. Delightful even. Seriously! In prior years I could count maybe one or two times a YEAR that I could classify myself as being in a bad mood. I never even knew what feeling frazzled felt like until recently. It's a terrible feeling and it's not fun living with someone who can classify themselves as such. So yea. I'm sorry guys. I'll try to keep the shrew under wraps but do me a favor and act like human beings from time to time will you? And quit throwing food all over the floor!!

Spending all afternoon (and I mean ALL afternoon) perusing DIY decorating blogs. Oh My Lordy Be! There are thousands and THOUSANDS of fantastically talented women out there who can transform a .25  thrift store chipped ceramic pig into a FABulous piece of artwork to compliment the DIY faux granite countertop (I'm not even kidding about the faux granite) in their gorgeously remodeled kitchen ... all of which they did for under $25! And they all blog about it. And have linky parties to thousands of other ridiculously wonderful "before and after" makeovers. I am HOOKED. I want to transform every room in our house with cans and cans of spray paint, mod podge and quarter thrift store finds. I want to speed to Lowes, buy every bit of chair and picture molding they have and turn my living room into a page from Architectural Digest! I want to learn to sew so I can take ugly, orange moldy chairs and fairy godmother them into works of art! At the very minimum I want to make my own chalkboard serving tray or maybe I'll paint my door black. But alas. The babies are crying. I have a ramen noodle budget and I'm not good with attention to detail. One can always dream (and drool over DIY blogs all day) right?

Happy Saturday.