Day 19

The new floor is in!!!

An up close look!!

Because they were tiling by both main entrances, they made a tiny path from our basement to the dining room we had to use while the first days tiles were setting. It felt a little awkward coming in from the basement but it only for one night. The day before, I accidentally stepped on the gray mud I hadn't realized was there and left some shoe prints. OOPS!!

While the mud was on the floor and while the first day tiles were setting we had to walk this bridge to get from the dining room to the living room. Can you say runway strut??!!

The next day, we were able to walk on the tiles but had to avoid the few second day tiles and walking on the grout. We had to tip-toe so we didn't step on the cracks. Actually, it wasn't that bad. The tiles are big enough to fit a whole foot.

Poor Gizmo doesn't like all the commotion going on almost every day. We had to trap her in the living room area for a couple days so she didn't step on the mud or tiles. Trying to get her to walk the runway was not fun. Luckily, today and from now on, she can walk on all the tiles without worry.

I Never Thought I....

This is an essay I wrote for a writing contest. Unfortunately, I did not win so I decided to publish it myself here!! It is called "A Permanent Mark," I hope you enjoy!

I never thought I'd get a tattoo. Growing up I was what you might call a goody-goody. I always came right home after school and started my homework, I never stayed out late and I was always the one to volunteer to help around the house. All in all, my parents never really had
to worry about me. After a while, I started to itch for something different, to do something out of character; but what? It wasn't until college that I started flirting with the idea of getting a tattoo.
A few of my friends got tattoos in high school. I always thought they were a fascinating media of art and I loved how unique each one seemed to be; but it still wasn't something I would do. Not to mention, I was terrified of the pain that would be involved. A year or two later I started watching those tattooing shows on T.V. and suddenly, the idea of getting a tattoo didn't seem like an outrageous idea after all. I mean, through the show I realised people from all walks of life got tattoos, not just bikers and sailors. One episode even featured an eighty or ninety year old woman getting her first tattoo. Is she could do it why couldn't I? I slowly started looking on the Internet for ideas on the design. I knew I didn't want anything too big, but other than that, I had no idea. Do I want a shooting star? How about a Lilly or a sunflower? A butterfly wold be pretty. No. I soon felt I needed a design that had meaning, not just something that I picked out randomly and a thousand other people would have. Then one day there it was. The logo for the Turner's Syndrome Society of the United States, a syndrome I have lived with my entire life. It was right there on the groups website. Picture four blue arches floating next to each other in the shape of a four leaf clover. In the center of the clover are four small blue circles. I knew right away if I were to get a tattoo that would be it. It was unique and really means something to me. But would I be happy with a tattoo after twenty years, even if the design is perfect? I was still debating.
I went to my mom for advice. All she said was, you're over eighteen so it's up to you; but please get it in a place that can be covered up when you have to dress nicely." I don't think she believed I would actually go through with it. The rest of the family didn't help make the decision either; it was my best friend who finally convinced me.
She has two tattoos and assured me the pain wasn't that bad. "It feels like a bunch of tiny paper cuts and only hurts for a minute," she said. She even invited me to come with her when she got her second tattoo so I could see exactly how it is done. Sure, I have seen it done on T.V., but it's a little different in person. You feel the atmosphere, hear the needles, and see a piece of art come together before your eyes.
After all that, I still wasn't convinced it was the right choice for me, and to this day I am not sure why. to try one more time to sway me, she gave me money one Christmas to put towards my tattoo. That did it.
Finally, after a year and a half or back and forth, I went with my friend to visit a local tattoo shop on January 2, 2009. After looking at the design, the artist asked if I would like to come back at five o'clock that day and have it done. My friend, knowing how nervous I was, quickly shouted "Yes." I shyly nodded in agreement. I don't know what would have happened had she not been there. I might have put it off as long as I could, or I might have said "forget it" and walked out. I like to think, however, I would have said "yes" on my own, but we will never know.
Five o'clock came all too quickly that day. If had rice in my jean pockets I would have sounded like a rattle snake, my legs were shaking so badly waiting for him to call me into the room. but my fear and nerves were unnecessary. Like my friend promised, the pain was minimal. In fact, I mostly only felt vibrations from the needle. After about forty-five minutes, and an interesting conversation with the artist about my friend's brother, I forever bear the Turner's Syndrome logo on my lower back. The goody-goody surprised everybody.
I couldn't be happier to this day. I even went out and bought a backless bathing suit a few months later so I could show off my body art on the beach and by the pool.
I kick myself for waiting so long to get it done. More than something nice to look at everyday, it serves as a reminder for everything I've been through with Turner's Syndrome. If I can get through multiple surgeries, daily growth hormone shots, and thousands of doctors visits, I can get through anything. That is what crosses my mind every time I see the tattoo in the mirror. Not to mentions, whenever someone sees the logo and asks what it means, I can bring awareness to the little known Turner's Syndrome.
I knew in my heart that logo on me forever was exactly what I wanted; I just let my nerves get the best of me. This experience has taught me that life is too short to not follow your heart and go for what you want, no matter how scary it may be. I definitely will not wait as long for the next one!

Day 10

It has only been ten days since the start of our major kitchen remodel. Already, the new door and window is framed, the rough plumbing and electrical finished and inspected, and the drywall is up.

It's really coming along quite fast, so far! Man, I will miss having those cute construction workers around when this is all done.

Remodel Day 1

It has begun!!!!!!

Our makeshift kitchen... in the living room!!

Extreme Makeover...Kitchen Eidtion!!

Tomorrow is a day 12 years in the making. A day full of excitement, mystery, and anxiety. Tomorrow, contractors start remodeling our kitchen!! Floor, cabinets, counter tops, windows, everything goes. In about 8 weeks, walking in through the garage door will feel like walking into a completely different house. We have spent the past couple of weeks emptying everything from our kitchen area... and I mean everything. And I took a few pictures so we can look back and remember what once was. Not that we would want to. I mean who would want to remember an ugly L- shaped counter-top, over crowded cabinets, and a linoleum floor that NEVER looked clean??

Winter Wonderland??

I have never wanted Spring to come as much as I do now. I usually have no problem with winter. In fact, I would rather be cold than hot. And snow is one of Mother Nature's most beautiful creations. But as we wait, expecting our ninth winter storm since late December tomorrow, enough is enough. My car was such an ice ball the other day that I could barely scrape it off after running the heat for over ten minutes. Finally, on my way home from work hours later, ice from the roof slid down in big chunks on to my windshield obstructing most of my view. Even worse, a few days before that, a chuck of snow or ice fell on my mother's head as we left a local store. Luckily, she wasn't hurt but it could have been really bad.
So Mother Nature, consider this my plea to send Spring unto me before I head South to never catch snow in my mouth.