On Friday night our electricity went out. No big deal. Because I cannot sleep in the slightest bit of heat (I require a fan blowing directly on my face in the summer), I migrated downstairs to sleep on the couch where it was cooler. I was sure it would be back on when I woke up in the morning.
The electricity was not back on. We went out to breakfast, sure the electricity would be back on when we got home. It wasn’t.
Here are some of the brain trust thoughts I had…
We can’t watch cable because the electricity is out. But we could watch DVDs. Fuck.
We can’t watch DVDs because the electricity is out, but we could watch something on our computers. Fuck.
I can’t microwave anything because the electricity is out, but I could do something in the oven. Fuck.
It is really hot in here because the air conditioner is out because the electricity is out, but I could turn on some fans to circulate the air. Fuck.
But it might have been a good thing that we didn’t have electricity. We had promised the kids we would redo their rooms because they are tweens now and need desks for homework and updated styles and better organization. We suck. I have no idea why we committed to that.
Because we have limited room to maneuver during a ‘do, the kids flipped coins and my SS won so we did his room first. Being a twin is an amazing thing… you just sort of accept injustice. As an only child, the thought of losing a coin toss – of even having a coin toss to decide something like that – makes me want to throw a thrashing temper tantrum. But the twins were like, hey, whatever, chill, bitches, we are cooool. And SD happily helped with Ian’s room. WHAT?
Here is our before… makes you feel the cold hand of death, doesn’t it?
I swear on air conditioning and cable that we are not hoarders and we don’t spoil the kids with stuff, in many ways we are sort of anti-stuff…. but still accumulate waaaaay to much stuff they have. It is mind boggling.
So after moving through the prolonged no-electricity stages of grief (there are 27 of them), like the pioneers of yore who idiotically decided to *stay* in the Midwest during the *SUMMER*, we dug in. We shifted, stacked, sorted, organized, painted, moved, drilled, and most of all, SWEATED!
And at the end, one wee 10-year old tween was happy. (Trust me, this is his happy look.)
1. Rug that came from mecca, AKA Pier 1 Imports, that has all the groovy colors and boy style needed to pull this shiznit together. Other than the “it would suck to lose our son because he is buried in lego and plastic dinosaurs” thought, this was our inspiration – and we dragged it into Home Despot to match the paint colors.
2. The built in shelves, with a coordinating green that we painted on the back because we LOVE to do crap that makes our house harder to sell if we ever want to. Srsly, we love doing that kind of crap.
But seriously srsly, one of the many adorable traits of my adorable SS is that he is a collector – and his shell, mineral, snowglobe, bouncy ball, and book collections made this very fun to style. (Can I use style as a verb? Does that make me a twatty twat? Please comment if so.)
More shelves of collections… the color scheme had a risk of being a bit too, well, feminine, but the scary animals and pinewood derby cars butch it up just enough. I call this style “Friendly Prehistoric Terror”.
His super cool eras of life (or something like that) poster that *totally* fits in with the colors and theme. AND HE ALREADY OWNED IT!
So no electricity meant awesome progress and a room almost done. But if we speak in the near future, fair warning to not get me started on the topic of what boys who are too old for cartoons and don’t define their interests based on a certain type of ball or extreme sport are supposed to sleep under. Finding my SS’s comforter will go down in my personal history as one of the greatest quests of my life.