Do Not Ask For Whom the Ball Drops

I would like to hear a round of applause for my husband, who has indeed finished painting the main living area of our house in time for our party on New Year's Day. As predicted, we are hanging up those curtains with the paint barely dry; but they will be up! And Larry has piled on even more marriage points. He's winning, folks!

After Larry put away all the painting paraphernalia (sp?), we spent some not-so-quality time hanging up all the pictures that have been lying around since we moved. I do not recommend this stressful exercise in togetherness unless either your marriage is solid as a rock or you and your spouse are both far too broke to even consider splitting up. By the time we were finished, Larry was drinking and I had to go to a neighbor's house to calm down.

This evening we went to our first ever New Year's Eve party. The whole family was invited, so we figured, hey, why not? That way Larry and I could spend the afternoon fighting over interior decorating instead of cooking dinner. We had to leave the party by 9:30, before any kids started crying; but unfortunately after some poor unfortunate asked us, "Do you both work?" and I immediately replied, "Yes - I work my butt off at home, and Larry works to bring in the money." You know that phrase shocked silence? I experienced it tonight. It's quite loud.

So, perhaps my response was a tad too snarky. After all, the question may actually have been a sort of compliment - maybe I looked professional, all dressed up as I was. Usually people don't even ask; they assume I'm a stay-at-home frump. I ran my theory by Larry, but he was pretending not to know me at that point. You'd think I'd embarrassed him or something. But that's okay - he embarrasses me all the time. I was just getting even.

Well, time to turn in so that I can get up bright and bushy-tailed - I need energy to yell at the kids all morning while I get ready for our party. Larry is a bit miffed that we have absolutely no idea how many people are showing up (a little, um, mistake on my part); so we need to prepare for the worst-case scenario. And I have to find the New Year's paper party goods I bought on sale in January 2006. They're around here somewhere.

Raising Vandals

It's taken me a year to get around to spending 50 dollars (an exorbitant amount for us) to attractively frame and mat a poster I found at a yard sale. It took my kids approximately 3 and a half seconds to get their hands on a bouncy ball (not on my watch, I would like to point out) and bounce it right into the picture and break the glass. I was tempted to hang it that way, so it would coordinate with the slipcovers that have been shredded in strategic places by a certain 4-year-old with scissors, and with the pretty lamps I found at Target which now sport unattractively spliced cords (same 4-year-old, same scissors), and with the beautiful maple coffee table which was gouged across the top by my eldest daughter's belt buckle within 24 hours of entering our house. Martha Stewart, eat your heart out.

Did I mention that Larry just installed granite counters in our kitchen, on the assumption that they would be indestructible? I, for one, am not betting any money on that.

Larry has left me, by the way. Oh, not permanently, of course - if he had done that, I would have made him take the kids with him. Just 2 days - long enough for me to feel sorry for myself, but not so long that he can't atone for this abandonment by showering me with lovely gifts upon his return. Chocolate would be nice.