I've been diligently working on clearing out the boys' bedroom this week. Darwin, who's three and a half, was still sleeping in a crib and Griffin had over a dozen paper bags full of art projects just tossed into their bedroom.
I dismantled the crib, put together a toddler bed (which my awesome friend Kristi gave us), cleared out all the stuff (dude, you so totally do not want to see my bedroom right now), reorganized the bookshelf and ripped the carpet out of the boys' alcove.
Reason 1,593 I love old houses: alcoves
Reason 3: original hard wood floors
The floors are really, really orange. They have the original varnish on them and in the back of the alcove have some light water damage (the tub shares the left-side wall). I don't care. I love them. I want to go rip out all the carpet out of the house right now.
Aaron, on the other hand, (who so happenly got home last night) doesn't like the hardwoods so much. He complains that they are cold (wear socks!) and are orange (orange is pretty!). I might have to leverage letting him have the cave longer. Or just ripping them all out during his next big trip.
Other things we've been truckin' through...
homework [green week] -- dude, who knew kindergarteners got so much damn homework? -- and doctoring up a certain lemon cake recipe. Apparently, it's not "special" enough to celebrate a particular someone's birthday, as it "needs" a creamy center and streusel topping as well. Men. You'd think he'd be happy coming home to any cake (and totally awesome at that) after being gone for ten damn days.