Holy Smokes! I don’t think I’ve written a post in a month! I swear I’ll be a better blogger. I just had to take a short hiatus while we moved from CA to TX and moved into our new home.
Quick summery: since we moved here a month ago my washing machine still doesn’t work. My freezer won’t dispense ice. We’ve broken a brand new lawn mower (it helps to put in oil). I’ve spent three months worth of paychecks at Lowe’s. We still don’t have blinds, and our neighbors are getting a real nice view inside our master bathroom. Jace broke a 55 inch tv by hurling a set of keys at it. My dryer is finally working after having to install a 4-prong plug instead a 3-prong plug. Who knew there were different prongs for dryers? Oh, and our cat ran away.
On a positive note, I’ve already been invited to the neighborhood bunko group!
I don’t mean to sound like a total Debby Downer. I absolutely love our new home! We’re in a wonderful neighborhood with tons of kids. Jace’s future elementary school is 200 yards down the street. And the best part is that my free babysitters (aka, MiMi and Papi) are only 5 miles away!
However, I didn’t realize when we bought the house I’d have to become a skilled electrician. Or in my case, call your dad and have him watch enough Youtube videos to figure out how to do it. Seriously, how did people fix things before Youtube? He’s fixed the dryer, the grill, and bolted down the bookshelf. I’m also the proud new owner of a drill and crescent wrench set. Thanks dad.
I don’t take responsibility for the broken lawn mower. My husband decided at 9 pm it was a good time to install our new mower and cut the grass. To his credit, it doesn’t cool off in Dallas until 9:00, but by that time I was already two glasses of wine in. My husband also prefers not to read directions. He’s an athlete. He goes by instinct. Unfortunately, that instinct didn’t tell him how much oil to put in. Next day- broken mower.
It’s all good though. Everything I’ve complained about can be fixed (or replaced with a few more paychecks to Lowe’s). Except the cat. That’s a bummer. Mario’s tried to convince me to replace the cat with a new puppy. He’s lost his dang mind! A new house, a 16-month-old, and a new puppy? Hell no.
I got to run. There’s about 64 more boxes in the garage that need unpacking. Oh, and if you want to see pictures of the new house, text me. I don’t want some internet crazy finding out where we live, especially since I just admitted I don’t have blinds.