Procrastinating Baby due to arrive June 2015!

Sooooooo apparently all I needed to do to spark conception was write a blog post detailing our yearlong struggle with infertility! It's like I finally wrote it all out and made the fertility testing appointments and showed up to get the procedures done and the Universe was like "Oh shit, I guess this bitch is SERIOUS"* and BOOM- baby Hoffman finally comes into existence!

Before I tell you how we discovered this happy/shocking news, let me briefly fill you in on those September action items that I described in my last post (dated September 2nd... wow, I suck). As you'll recall, I had had an appointment with my lady doctor, who gave us official lab paperwork for a series of fertility tests-- I had to have bloodwork done in late August, then again in early September, and then again in late September, I had an HSG (a "hysterosalpingogram", aka: "the scary procedure" I mentioned last time, which wasn't TERRIBLE, but more extremely nerve-wracking and uncomfortable), and Jeff had official orders to go take care of bidness in a private room at Strong. SO, we moved through September systematically checking all this stuff off of the list, texting each other immediately after each procedure with updates ranging from the hilarious (Jeff's text to me after his procedure was hilarious... trust me) to the pitiful (I texted Jeff that I randomly burst into tears in an ACM blood lab's waiting room while waiting to get blood draw and two elderly Russian woman stared at me for the duration of my momentary meltdown). We got all our test results back in late September (mostly good, one little hiccup that the doctor didn't seem too pessimistic about-- "Will you guys have a baby? Sure, but it's probably going to take you a little longer than the average couple"), right around the exact same time Jeff's brother and sister-in-law announced that they were expecting their first baby. The fire within me, already lit and burning for months, got a hearty dose of lighter fuel.

Now... the part you've been waiting for (or not... do other people really care about these things?). Smash-cut to around 11:30pm on Monday, October 6th. Despite the "sharks" being three days late, I had already taken a test the previous Saturday and it came back negative, so I had convinced myself that either my fertility iPhone app was full of lies or my body was just being a dick again and doing whatever it wanted.* Feeling tired, I rolled off of the couch and announced to Jeff that I was going up to bed. As I was upstairs getting ready for bed, the lure of the pee sticks called to me from their little drawer... "go ahead, Mary... pee on me... I know everything you've read says you should really wait until first thing in the morning, but when have you ever abided by rules... do it... peeeeeeeee on meeeeeee." So I did, thinking it was a waste of a cheapie internet-purchased pregnancy test and three minutes of my time. I went about my business of bedtime prep when Lo! Was that a HINT of a pink line next to the test line? I thought I could vaguely see where a line - if there was a line - was supposed to be (which had never happened before). This called for the big guns-- I pulled out the pink box 2-pack of First Response fancy tests that had been collecting dust in the back of the drawer over several months. Within seconds, a clear pink line next to the test line. THIS WAS NOT A DRILL-- THIS WAS FOR FREAKIN' REAL.

Okay, so you know how in my last post I referenced the calm/cool/collected next step in how these things obviously go down? You take the test, it's positive, and then you serenely announce the news to your husband, completely controlled and triumphantly?

This is my version of that. You know that feeling when your face feels like it's going to simultaneously explode AND melt off of your skull at the same time? My skin got instantly hot and my brain shut down- "what? WHAT?? FOR REAL? Is this-- WHAT??". I panicked. Jeff was downstairs, watching some terrible tv show on Roku (I want to say "Revolution"?) with no idea that it has actually finally worked, and I am upstairs panicking about it having actually finally worked. I grabbed the stick in one hand and bolted to my closet, digging out the package I had ordered from Etsy (a cotton onesie with the words "worth the wait" printed on it, which I broke down and ordered the day I made those fertility appointments in an attempt to tell the Universe that this was gonna happen, dammit). Onesie in one hand, pee stick in the other, I tried to compose myself while walking down the stairs. Jeff was locking up the house for the night and had his back to me when I (in what I am positive was the shaky voice of a lunatic woman, despite my efforts to keep it together and be cool about this)... you know what? This is better in play format:

Mary (hands behind her back): "Hey... uhhh... guess what?"
Jeff: (back still to Mary, locking the front door): "What?"
Mary (blurting out): "Uhhhhhh... PICK A HAND!"
Jeff (turning): "Huh?"
Mary: "JUST PICK A HAND!"
Jeff: "Left one I guess"
Mary reveals pee stick in left hand
Jeff: "What is this?"
Mary stares at Jeff in what she is sure is a triumphant gaze, but probably looks more like a crazed person on the subway
Jeff (looking at the lines on the stick- he has obviously never seen one of these): "What does this even mean? What does it say?"
Mary reveals right hand with onesie and wildly tosses it at Jeff
Jeff (reading onesie): "... huh? really? REALLY?"

<everything dissolves into a weird hazy blur and we both make our way upstairs to go to bed, but not before Jeff paces around the bedroom processing the gravity of what just happened while I sit up in bed willing my face to stop vibrating>

So yeah, we're actually FINALLY having a baby! And because, like said baby, I am a super procrastinator, I am 17 weeks pregnant as I write this post. BOOM. Craziness.

*I have already clearly warned Jeff that my colorful trucker-esque mouth will not diminish with motherhood.

PS- Thanks for finally listening, Universe.

The Biggest Project Yet

Yesterday I was feeling particularly cheeky (after around 24 hours of feeling particularly depressed), so I posted the following status and photo on Facebook:

"After months of trying, planning, daydreaming, ups and downs, and consultations with experts, Jeff and I are excited to finally announce that we are expecting a new kitchen this winter! Our first appointment is Saturday and we are beyond thrilled to welcome this new addition to our home! It will truly be life-changing! (We are registered at Lowe's)."

Yes, I am an asshole. But it made me laugh and must have made other people smile as it garnered over 100 "likes" in one day. My motto right now is "If you can't laugh about it, you'll probably cry about it", so I'm choosing to find the fun where I can. An ultrasound photo capturing our soon-to-be new kitchen fit the bill for me. I see on average 3 ultrasound photos pop up in my newsfeed each week, so I thought I'd contribute with one of my own (in my own twisted way).

So YES, we're going to bite the bullet and start the ball rolling on remodeling our kitchen. Ever since our offer was accepted and we moved in back in February, I've said that the kitchen would be the only BIG thing about the house that I would want to change. Here's what the kitchen looked like when we bought the house:

GREAT brand new fridge, but there's just so much beige. I'm not a fan of two-toned cabinetry and the doors are the same color as the walls. And then there's the floor, which although pretty new, is darker and more brown than anything else. That archway leading to the hallway is deceptively narrow (it's my "don't get fat" passage-- as long as I can fit through that opening, I'm not "too fat"). If you look carefully, you'll see that the base cabinets cut in on an angle between the sink and that archway, and that those three drawers are the ONLY drawers in the entire kitchen. You'll also note that the upper cabinets around the sink only have around a 10" clearance above the countertops, which means you can't put anything on them... which is often problematic. Also, no dishwasher means that I am miserable. 

And here we have the other side of the kitchen (from the view of the "don't get fat" archway)-- notice how the oven/stove (which is also beautifully new) sits in the corner all by itself with nary an adjacent surface upon which to rest a ladle? Not very functional. That window is the ONLY window in the entire room and it faces the East, so in general the kitchen is very dark, even with the overhead spaceship light on. From the vantage, you can also see how shallow the upper cabinets are-- a dinner plate cannot fit in them. Also-- who thought blue would be a good idea of the laminate countertops? Again, the ceramic tile floor looks really dirty even though it's perfectly clean. That wall to the right is just a blank wall between the kitchen and the dining room... it's gotta go!

These were my initial observations. After living in the space and trying to prepare meals in it for the last 7 months, I've learned that the layout just plain stinks-- the work triangle is completely skewed with the oven shoved in that random corner and there's a main traffic-way going right through the middle (from the dining room to the back door and basement). There's nowhere to set anything down when you are cooking something on the stove. Counter space is extremely limited given the low clearance of the upper cabinets, and it's impossible to access one of the three upper cabinet doors while dishes are drying in a drying rack (between the sink and the fridge). The cabinets themselves are original to the house and therefore have nothing separating them (so it's all just one big box with many doors on the front... which means that if any stack of pans topples over in there, it creates an insane domino effect and then EVERYTHING is a mess). The cabinet doors also either stick shut or pop open themselves, a charming thing we noticed this summer. The empty wall cuts the kitchen off from the rest of the downstairs living areas, which makes me feel isolated whenever I cook (and I love to cook) and make the kitchen feel small and dark. That one overhead light and east-facing window aren't cutting it.

So here's what I whipped up in MS Paint (my fave):

Biggest change? Blow out that wall between the dining room and kitchen and put a peninsula in its place. This will give us that open floor plan feeling (which means I can SEE Jeff while I cook and he sits on the couch watching VHS tapes with the cats), allow all the light from the dining room windows to brighten up the kitchen, and give me more counter space to work with. Other changes include:

• Relocating the oven/stove to where the sink used to live, and moving the sink to the peninsula. Now there are some who would argue that I shouldn't break up all that glorious peninsula counter space with a sink, but I really think it's the best/only logical spot for it. Plus, it creates a more even work triangle and allows me to talk to people sitting in the dining room as I'm working on dishes or rinsing things off.
• Speaking of dishes, there's a dishwasher on the end of the peninsula. Hallelujah!
• New cabinets that don't stick and create huge messes! Glass fronts on the uppers by the peninsula, for the displaying of the glassware and pretty dishes.
• New countertops that are not blue! Ideally, they are light and neutral in color.
• Some recessed cans in the ceiling to help evenly distribute light, and under-cabinet task lighting.
• Subway tile backsplash! True, our current backsplash is decent, but it doesn't go with the floor and it totally paints us into a corner with what other colors/styles we can select for the cabinets and countertops.
• If budget permits, I would like to build around the fridge so it looks more built-in and less "plopped in", especially as our fridge is pretty deep and juts out a little bit. Plus, it's impossible to get into the cabinets above the fridge when they are located way in the back- I say push 'em to the front and make the whole thing look like it's supposed to go there.
• It would be awesome to put some designated pantry space where the oven used to live. That way, all cabinets can be used for cookware and not for storing my 42 boxes of fusilli pasta.
• It's way fancy and probably super expensive, but I would love love love to have roll-out cabinet shelves so I don't have to dig for things, pull-out trash bins so I don't have to stare at a garbage can, and space-maximizing drawers/cabinets that give designated storage space for things like spices, cookie sheets/platters, and a tip-out tray for sponges in front of the sink (instead of a fake drawer front). It's these smart little things that I think really help to make a kitchen fully-functional and a joy to work in.

Want some inspiration images? Here are a few that I've plucked from my Pinterest board:

Soft white shaker cabinets with simple hardware

Soft white cabinets, light neutral countertops, stainless steel appliances
(which we already have, thankfully), and cozy lighting

Light shaker cabinets, stainless appliances, peninsula with sink, glass-front cabinets with lighting

Light cabinets, white subway tile backsplash, brownish tile floor (already got it!),
light neutral counters, recessed and under-cabinet lighting

I've made an appointment with a designer at the Canandaigua Lowe's (came highly recommended to me by my financial planner, who did an overhaul on his kitchen a few years ago) for Saturday afternoon. The (wrecking) ball is officially rolling!

Create Some Shiz!

Fall is here and that means that sweet Jeffrey is pretty much officially the property of the East Irondequoit Lancer Marching Band until October 26th. This means that I'm going to 1) have a ton of alone-time, and 2) I can fill that alone-time with PROJECTS! And let's face it-- I could use the distraction right now. Here are some inspiration images of projects I'm itching to tackle...

Transforming the teeny entry closet into a mini-mudroom. I feel like the space would be way more functional,
and we hate the little mini French doors that are currently on that closet (especially because the cats
have figured out how to OPEN said French doors, which we then smack the front door into whenever we come home). Cubbies for EVERYONE!

Our washer, dryer and utility sink are in there own little bare corner of the basement. It is my dream
to turn that corner into an actual nice place to be-- a bright area rug (to cover the concrete floor
where the paint is peeling off), colorful curtains behind the machines, some shelving, perhaps
a table for folding/sorting items, and the piece de resistance would be to cover the framed-out wall with
fresh white bead board so I don't have to look at wooden studs while I'm switching laundry over.

We have a hall closet downstairs in serious need of organization. A shelf for linens
(now that I've finally learned how to neatly fold a fitted sheet!), a shelf for cleaning products,
a shelf for medicine/first aid supplies, and appropriate areas for the vacuum, mop, and broom.

I've accumulated countless paint cans over the last four years and right now
they're all tucked in random spots in the basement-- having them all gathered and neatly
sorted will make doing household projects sooooo much easier!

A corner of our basement actually already has a workshop table and pegboards already installed... but they are buried in completely random piles of tools, misfit household items, broken lamps, plastic bags of stuff that we haven't gotten around to unpacking (yes, we've been in the house for 6 months already)-- I don't know where anything is and finding a screwdriver can easily turn into a 45 minute rescue mission.

Oh, Pinterest... you are the devil.

Effin' Infertility

I don’t understand why more people don’t talk about their journey toward starting a family, particularly if the journey is bumpy and fraught with hurdles. Infertility is an extremely personal and emotional subject, but I guess I’ve never really thought that that means that the battle should be private— in my mind, keeping such a huge issue a secret just adds “isolation” to the laundry list of feelings that come along with the struggle to conceive (feelings like shame, failure, inadequacy, heartache, impatience, grief, envy, anticipation, and ultimately disappointment). If people feel comfortable enough to ask us questions like “Any kids yet?” or “When are you guys going to start a family?” (and they do… oh, they do), then I think we should feel comfortable enough to talk about the struggle. That seems fair, right? Well, regardless of your answer to that question, that’s where I am with this— infertility is a rollercoaster I never thought I’d ride, but here I am, tightly gripping the safety bar as it hurdles me up and down every two weeks.

So I guess this blog entry is the first in my attempt to NOT lose my lunch on this ride. Out of respect for my husband and our marital privacy, I’ll spare you any intimate details along the way (because you don’t need to know any of that- heck, you don’t really need to know any of this), but I need to talk about it, and writing it out is a safe way for me to do just that. I’m not looking for sympathy by putting this stuff out there into the world; I just need to put it out there to take some of the burden off of my heart and to feel a little less isolated by the reality of the situation.  If you don’t want to hear it or you fall into the box of people who feel strongly that the miracle of life should best be kept shrouded in mystery until that special moment when the couple magically announce it via Facebook thus making it seem like a completely effortless surprise, then stop reading this blog and go troll your newsfeed for the latest line-up of ultrasound photos.

According to Google image search,
this is what "fertility" looks like

Let’s talk about the “effortless surprise”. And how sad I am that that’s apparently not how our family is going to start. I think most girls who want to grow up to be moms envision that first moment of finding out they are expecting. I’ve imagined it in my head countless times over the last 20 or so years. That moment and the moments leading up to it played out like the news would be a complete surprise, like after a few weeks of fatigue and nausea, you’d put two and two together and think “I wonder if I could be… I better take a test” and then you make a trip to CVS and peruse through several brands of pregnancy tests (not knowing which to get—so many choices!). You do your thang and 3 minutes later, “oh my gosh!” and then come the excited and shocked happy tears and you immediately construct the perfect way to announce this news to your husband that evening and the two of you go to bed that night giddy with the “I guess we’re parents now!” feeling and you all live happily ever after. Right.

According to Google image search,
couples struggling with "infertility"
DON'T EVEN HAVE FACES.

Smash-cut to your 12^th month of actively, STRATEGICALLY trying to conceive and this is what it looks like: a notification goes off on your iPhone’s fertility app, its little green dots on the calendar alerting you that your “fertile window” approaches. You mark this week on your calendar and warn your husband that “from this Tuesday through next Tuesday, it’s ‘Flower Week’” (so called because the precise date of ovulation is marked with a little flower icon- how beautiful and feminine). You do what you’ve got to do, record everything in your little fertility calendar app, Flower Week is over, and then the two solid weeks of waiting begins. You start noticing every little twinge in your body (“my toe feels funny, maybe I’m pregnant!”), every moment of fatigue (“It’s 2pm and I’m tired, maybe I’m pregnant!”), and you’re way too aware of the exact date that “Shark Week” (as I like to call it) is due according to that little iPhone app. Every day you yo-yo back and forth at least 4 times—“I think this is the month!” to “it’s a bust” to “but wait- I just felt a cramp an inch above my belly button—this must be it!” and back to “I might as well just drink all the wine in my house- it’s not like it’s gonna happen”. It’s an evil pendulum of hope and despair. And then maybe Shark Week miraculously doesn’t start on the day your phone tells you it’s due to start—LET THE NURSERY PINTERESTING BEGIN! (let’s be real- I already have a secret pinterest board that’s well populated) PEE ON ALL THE STICKS! (followed by “eff those sticks- they don’t know what they’re talking about… it’s probably just too early to tell”). And then the sharks come for you, and you have to start all over again.

That’s what this journey to parenthood actually looks like. If I talk about it, most people’s responses are “just relax and let it happen” and “it will happen when it’s meant to happen” and “maybe you should try *NOT* trying and see what happens”, which I usually respond to with a polite and hopeful smile (and a semi-seething internal “are you effing kidding me?”). Yep- tried the whole “let’s just play it by ear this month” thing a couple of times and nothing happened either. So –and maybe this is just my personality—I’d rather go into each month trying everything I have control over so when it doesn’t happen I’ll at least know that we did everything we could possibly do to make it happen.

So after a solid year of strategy met with consistent disappointment, we’re bringing in reinforcements: we are officially getting this shit checked out. After an initial “this baby-making stuff is really hard and it’s bullshit” appointment with my doctor and the first of many blood tests (testing cholesterol, enzyme and various hormone levels) in August, I called this morning and scheduled the appointments for my bloodwork on Thursday (checking for a different set of hormone levels), for three weeks from now (yet another set of hormones) and for a not-so-fun procedure next week to make sure that all muh bidness is as it should be. I wanted to cry when I hung up the phone—even though I’ve had the forms for a few weeks now and knew that this was the next part of the process, it sucks that it’s the reality of our situation. And of course, just so we’re all having to do foreign and slightly humiliating things just so we can have a family, my dear Jeffrey has his own doctor-ordered lab form that he has to face.

This whole situation sucks. It may sound completely stupid, but in my head and in my heart, I feel like I’m kind of already a mom… just that weird brand of mom that’s still waiting for her baby to become real. That feels a little crazy to say (remember that first season of “Glee”, anyone?), but I don’t know how else to explain it. The names are picked, the back room that is currently housing all of our random stuff that doesn’t really go anywhere else in the house is just waiting to be cleared out and transformed (and it’s kind of making me nuts that I can’t do anything with that room- one way or the other- until we know what’s up), the books have been read, the acupuncture has been given a try, the pregnancies of women around me have been announced and many of those same babies are already full-term and ready to be born, and we’re just sitting here waiting for our baby to finally happen.

(And apparently our hypothetical child already takes after his/her mother in terms of doing things only when he/she is damn well ready to)

Officially Taking a Break

I've been saying that I'm going to temporarily retire from the theatre for a while now. For months I said "Oh, after Shrek, I'm done for a while", with the intention that I would go out on top like George Costanza- <triumphantly raises arms in the air> "Alright, that's it for me!". Everyone asked me if I was auditioning for Young Frankenstein at the JCC and I adamantly said "nope- I'm taking a break"... until the director called me on the day of callbacks and asked me to come in and nail it. All I did was go in a belt the word "Tits" for 16 counts... I'm serious. And while I don't think I actually did nail it that night, the creative team was very nice and ultimately offered me the part.


Tssssssst!

What made me decide to squeeze in one more show before I take this break I've been talking about for months? Young Frankenstein was one of those films that I had watched from my early childhood on-- I was rattling off quotes from it when I was still in elementary school (without necessarily realizing just what I was saying- "What knockers!" "Oh, sank you, doctor", for example). There are so many moments in that movie that perfectly demonstrate the kind of comedy that I find funniest. Also, I love Madeline Kahn. LOVE Madeline Kahn. So when I heard that JCC was doing it, of course it caught my attention. But Shrek: The Musical really took it out of me-- I'm not sure how many people really know how much-- and with moving into our new house and all the
responsibilities I'm juggling at Geva this Spring, I knew that I was going to need to take a looooooong break. So I told myself I was done and I was totally cool and excited about that.

I also thought that I would be pregnant by now. I naively assumed that of course I would either be too tired/barfy to be able to handle it or too showy to be passable in any stage roles after Shrek. For months I daydreamed about being secretly pregnant during Shrek and then making a sassy end of the first trimester announcement at the end of my program bio- "Fiona marks Mary's last stage role for a while, as she is making her debut as "first-time mama" this Summer!" to explain my planned hiatus. Well, that didn't work out as planned.

So what's one more? The only 2 things that kept me from auditioning were 1) my tiredness after the grueling Shrek process, and 2) the hope that I would be "in the family way" by the time the show was running. Well, I negotiated with Danny (who, after playing Shrek, understood exactly what I was talking about with issue #1 and sympathized greatly) and made him promise me that 1) I wouldn't be called to rehearsal more than 2 times a week for the first few weeks of rehearsals, and 2) that should the family thing work out during the process, he and the costumer would be very kind to me and make the necessary accommodations both in physical demands and seam allowances. He heartily agreed and, having all my conditions met, I took the role.

Now we're less than a month away from opening and things are starting to move quickly-- next week marks my first real week of regular rehearsals and we start running the show the week after that. We had rehearsal last night and blocked my last song ("Deep Love"- look it up on youtube for a laugh). And I realized how truly tired I really am. Don't get me wrong, I love it and I'm going to have a crap-load of fun with this role. But it's time. I find myself getting really frustrated and irritable with myself in rehearsal, I'm having issues with my body on so many levels now, and all of it is causing me to be way way WAY too hard on myself. I need to streamline. I need to listen to my body. I need to rest and recharge and refocus. I've gotta stop and breathe.

So this is officially it for me for a while, friends-- come see me go out with a bang in Young Frankenstein at the JCC in May. And then, once I've had a chance to settle into life again, maybe I'll have some news on my next big role (whether it'll be on the stage or in a nursery, only time will tell).

(I vote nursery.)

Grandma Texas

My Grandma died yesterday.

We called her "Grandma Texas"; I'm not sure why. We never called our Grandma Tiballi "Grandma New York", but for some reason my mom's mother was always referred to as "Grandma Texas", even in the most formal of conversations. I think she really represented that place, that part of our lives, unlike anything else. Now that she's gone, I feel like she was Texas to me. As I think about her, certain little memories replay in my mind:

- a pink dress she made for me, specifically the fabric she used-- it was pink with a minty green leaf print that had a little bits of green glitter here and there.

- the wooden paddle that hung in her kitchen as a silent and permanent threat to any mischievous children daring to enter her kitchen while she was cooking. It had a skunk painted on it.

- the little glass crocks of candy that she kept on her kitchen counter. I actually think it was Grandpa Texas who kept them stocked with peanut butter cups and tootsie rolls, just so he'd have the pleasure of watching his grandchildren cautiously sneak to the kitchen threshold, hiding until Grandma's back was turned at the sink, and then quickly darting in to snitch a candy while she wasn't looking for fear of that skunk paddle on the wall. Now that I'm an adult, I have similar glass crocks on my kitchen counter. Every time I steal a piece, I am 7 again.

- the most incredible food you've ever tasted in your life. Specifically: biscuits, bacon (which she always served in a specific rectangular melamine bowl, which my mom gave to me recently), 2% milk served in curvy glasses, BBQ beef brisket, hushpuppies, pickles, salsa, and an orange cake that I still dream about. Grandma Texas was the one who taught me that measuring cups were optional and that good cooks "stir it till it feels right". She was fearless and masterful in the kitchen.

- waiting for her to get home from work at night. Grandma Texas worked at an old folks home when I was young and often her shift wasn't over until 10 or 11pm. We'd wait up for her to get home and then she'd sit at the kitchen table and smoke a cigarette (or several) and tell us stories about people we didn't know. It didn't matter- it was worth staying up for.

- the bright orange velvety rocking chairs in her den, where she and my Grandpa would sit for movie-watching. It was in this room where I was introduced to some of my favorite films of all time (or maybe they are my favorite because they remind me of being there). I remember watching Gone With the Wind for the first time there, which seemed like an event to me as a young child.

- her voice and her laugh. I just can't describe my Grandma's voice to anyone who hasn't spent time in rural East Texas-- it was warm, hilarious, utterly charming... like chewing on molasses. And she always had some zinger or sassy comment to make that would just land you flat on your ass. She was funny (and she knew it). And stubborn (and she knew it). I remember her laughing from her chair at the kitchen table, a cigarette in her long-finger-nailed hand, usually with an "awww, shiiii-et" thrown somewhere in the chuckling (in Texas, "shit" is a two-syllable word- always). She had a great sense of humor and people frequently drew comparisons between me, my mom, and my Grandma-- we were all three of us sassy, stubborn, proud, strong-willed women with the same lips and the same nose. I loved that.

There are tons of memories that I will cherish with Grandma Texas. She was an amazing woman and the absolute matriarch of my Texas family. She wasn't just my grandma- she was an entirely different world to me. Texas never be the same now that she's not there.

Look What We Did!

You guys-- it's been MONTHS. I am terrible at blogging.

Biggest development since I last wrote? We bought a house! Specifically, this house:

We live here now.

 

We officially moved in during February, right smack in the middle of my Shrek: The Musical run (mental note: do not EVER move into a house while you are performing the lead in a ginormous musical which requires exhausting physical comedy and the slathering of green makeup all over yourself-- you will be too overwhelmed to do anything correctly and will instead sit and cry tears of exhaustion and embarrassment). Fortunately, I married a nice guy who took the reins and somehow got it done.

 

Allow me to take you on a tour...

 

The living room, as seen from the front door.

 

Same room, as seen from the hallway.

 

The dining room, as seen through the massive archway from the living room.

Same room, as seen from the entrance to the kitchen.

My domain. So much beige...

... but new appliances, tile floor and backsplash, at least.

The downstairs bathroom. New everything.

The guest bedroom.

 

The "other" bedroom, hopefully soon to be inhabited by a small person.

 

The most glorious master bedroom you've ever seen in yo' LIFE!

Recessed lighting! New carpet! Exposed brick! Window seats!

The en suite. Jeliz?

What's that I see? More exposed brick?

We'll have so much room for pooping!

Nice and flat, fully-fenced backyard

I shall putter in this garage.

We've already undertaken some projects (for instance, that bright orange dining room is no longer bright orange... thank the heavens) and I hope to have some posts up in the next few weeks to show you all the little updates and changes we're making. My love affair with Home Depot has gotten more serious... I think what we have is FOR REAL, guys...