Next step: paint. I'm thinking a COLOR since our house is so very beige, but am having trouble picking one. So dear internet, how about if you tell me what color you would paint it? And then if you choose the winning color, I'll give you a prize....like you can use the downstairs bath! Ooh, that's enticing, isn't it? And while it looks like "oh they installed a toilet and a sink", it really was a LOT more work than that. New baseboards, new chair rail, new plumbing valves and that's only the stuff I caught wind of while I was doing my own thing with Wyatt. We are so very appreciative of all the help and expertise from Grandpa!
Wyatt was thrilled to have his grandpa here, too. We waved goodbye to Daddy on Thursday evening as he left to get Grandpa at the airport. Wyatt was in bed when they returned, yet still the first words out of his mouth on Friday morning were, "Bapa! Bapa!" And so it was every morning that Jeff's dad was here. Wyatt loves his Bapa! Friday was also exciting because my aunt and uncle came to visit for the afternoon. They brought Wyatt a couple of new books (a sure way to his heart) and Aunt Martha spent a good chunk of her afternoon walking him around our neighborhood while the guys were working in the bathroom and I was prepping dinner. We had a great time with them! Unfortunately, I didn't take a single picture. I'm really slipping in the photo department.
I spent Friday evening with Rife Wife and her boys at Urgent Care. Thankfully her kiddo's okay and I'm just so glad that we're close enough to count on each other! But not to be outdone, Wyatt decided to take a header into a windowsill on Saturday morning. I was literally right there since he was climbing over me to watch the squirrel outside our window when he fell. I just didn't catch him in time and thought he bumped his forehead. So I scooped him up and came downstairs to get a little ice for whatever bump appeared. Needless to say, my adrenaline ratcheted up a bit when I looked down and saw blood. It turns out he cut and brusied the inside of both lips and tore that little piece of skin that holds your upper lip to the gums (my sister tells me this is the frenulum. So last night I googled "torn frenulum" and all these child abuse info sites pop up - apparently this injury is a hallmark of abuse. That makes me feel even better about failing prevent this accident!) He looked a little like Angelina Jolie for the rest of the weekend but bounced back pretty quickly otherwise.
I'd like to add that we don't ever intend for Wyatt to have a bowl cut, yet somehow it always looks that way. Maybe because he messes with it so much? Maybe because we leave it too long? What gives?
On the kitchen front we're stymied again. I thought I'd found the perfect company - they could match our existing cabinetry for the new island, he said their granite quote was "phenomenal" and could get all of this going in a few weeks. I eagerly went to get the quote from him on Saturday morning and had to refrain from getting really short with him when his price for 4 new cabinets was the same as Lowe's quote for redoing our entire kitchen. Are you freaking kidding me? I pretty much told him he was way off base, asked him to rework the quote with some more clearly defined parameters, asked for a breakdown of exactly where all the gajillion dollars was going and went back this morning to get that bid. He said, "good news!" when I walked in the door which made me expect, well...good news. His idea of good news and mine are very different. He apparently thinks that shaving a thousand dollars from his astronomical bid makes it a good deal. Oh, and when I asked (again) for a line-item breakdown of how the eleventy billion dollars (that's a thousand shy of a gajillion, you see) would be spent, he told me he "wouldn't be able to do that until we entered into a contract. It's just a business policy we have." I think this policy makes him (1) crazy and (2) lose my business. Aargh! This should not be so difficult! So today I'm rearranging some things in the pantry since all those appliances might have to stay in there longer than I'd hoped.
I know, I know. I need more to fret about. Like how to organize Wyatt's toys. They're out of control and I'm hoping to figure out a good system for his room and one for the family room that doesn't scream I HAVE TOYS INSIDE. Any suggestions, smart readers?