I'm currently obsessed with my new house.
What? You didn't know I have a new house?
Well, you aren't missing anything. I'm obsessed with a house I don't have yet.
A couple of weeks ago after my car was hit and my drivers side mirror busted by a man who lives in my neighborhood who proceeded to get out of his car, call me a fat ass and make verbal threats to me, I went home and said to Jason, "The hell with this. We're moving."
So yay! We're moving.
But not today. We started looking at houses and even went to some open houses and talked to Realtors and so on and then *I* said, "Why don't I pay off my car first?"
I know, I know. What is UP with me? What am I? Fiscally responsible or some crap?
So we're moving. Probably next summer.
And, sadly, the thing I'm most excited about? Is getting the children twin sized beds. Because what they have now is a taken-apart bunk bed. And they visited my parents and innocently said that the beds my parents have are softer and I got the big stink-eye from my mom about how I really should just get my children a decent bed. Because clearly, I lived in luxury as a child. If by luxury you mean I had curtains made out of old bedsheets and didn't own a pair of pants that my brother didn't wear first until I was like, twelve.
But I digress.
So excited am I about the children's new beds, that also don't exist, I went and bought these:
Now, I will spend several months obsessing over the potential of the yellow stripes making the Boy Child's room to girly and how I can convince Jason to let me paint Girl Child's walls green.
In our house that doesn't exist.
I'm cool like that.