Obsessions So Far

I was warned I'd encounter many a food obsession. Pregnancy cravings, if you will.

Hasn't happened yet.

Here are the bizarre things I have obsessed over in the past few months:

1. Dog toys.

Holy crap.

The day before I took the pregnancy test, way back in early September, I suddenly proclaimed that poor Winnie had zero nice toys to play with, which was obviously dog abuse, and we needed to run to Pet Smart and purchase new toys.

And not just any dog toys. We needed the knitted stuffed animals from the Martha Stewart Dog Toy line, and we needed them now. Because the dog is abused. Look at her. She's miserable.

A skeptical Ian gave me the side-eye: "You're pregnant."

I felt that such a statement detracted from the issue at hand, which was HOLY CRAP, WE NEED NEW DOG TOYS.

We headed to Pet Smart where I purchased a knitted squirrel and a pink rabbit. I cradled them in the car and lovingly handed the polyester pair to Winnie at home.

Winnie, of course, beat the ever-loving shit out of them.

After watching Winnie attempt to destroy both toys, I hopped online and surveyed the Pet Smart website to find when the latest batch of Martha Stewart dog toys would hit the shelves. Because, I don't know. I was really into dog toys.

This obsession has calmed slightly, mainly out of financial necessity.

We probably need to spend money on diapers and car seats rather then the holiday boutique of Martha Stewart dog toys. Although the penguin wearing the snow hat looks awfully tempting...

2. Animal Planet's "Too Cute" television series

We don't have cable nor do we watch much television. I stumbled upon this show while playing around on Youtube one evening waiting for Ian to arrive home from work.

I watched the whole series on sloths before moving on to kittens and then puppies.

Ian calls this show "pregnant woman porn."

There is really no educational value or story line or depth to this program. "Too Cute" consists of gratuitous footage of kittens and puppies eating, sleeping, and playing and, well, that's it.

You wouldn't expect "Frontline" levels of education from a show called "Too Cute," but even I'm amazed at how much of this show I can watch.

Ian: "After about two minutes, I'm kinda done with this thing."

Laura: "Man, I can watch six hours of it."

3. Paint Samples

For the nursery.

I went stark raving mad one Sunday and announced we needed to determine the color for the baby's room. Immediately. I hate baby colors, especially pink.

I decided we needed to paint the room turquoise, since it's been scientifically proven to be the best color in the universe. Ian agrees.

Our bedroom is dark turquoise, our kitchen floor is medium turquoise, and the baby's room will be vibrant turquoise. Check the color wheel; those classifications of turquoise exist.

We haven't done a damn thing towards actually making the nursery, but we have the paint sample and thus we have made that gigantic leap towards the responsibilities and maturity of parenthood.

The Winiferd House Gets a Makeover: Part One

Remember when I said Ian and I were redecorating the house? The entire house? And I told everyone I'd post an update, resplendent with before and after pictures? Remember?

Way back in August, Ian and I got to work transforming the house, attempting to bring the 1950's ranch style home into the 21st century.

I consider myself a fairly easy-going person, apt to go with the flow, but when when it comes to home decorating, I start frothing at the mouth. I take home design waaaaaaay too seriously.

When I started dating Ian, it was with the knowledge that he was a home-owner and that his home would eventually become my home.

And, well, the house had wood paneling. Every singe surface of the enormous front room was dark brown. The cabinets were the same brown as the wood paneling. It was like cabinet camouflage. Lots of brown. Brown, brown, brown, brown. Apparently, people in the 1950s loved brown.

Let me tell you something about an entirely brown house: it's scary. Like, horse ghost scary.

On Friday nights, Ian would go to bed earlier than me, while I would stay up watching movies. And I was terrified. Lit only by lamps and enclosed in wood paneling, the house looked like a cave inhabited by witches. Also, witch ghosts.

I was terrified of being alone in the house at night.

Err, and the day.

I would take vacation days from work and stay at Ian's house the entire time. I would wake at 8:30 am, eat breakfast, take the dog for a walk, and then haul my ass out of there by 10:00 am.

I would toss the dog in the car, and we would go to my parents' house for the day. I would call Ian at about 3:00 pm to ask what time he'd arrive home from work, and then beat him home by about ten minutes. Hi, Ian! I've been here all day! Just enjoying this wood paneling!

Ian eventually caught on.

Ian: "Why do you always leave the house when I'm gone?"

Laura: "Because it's scary. Witch ghosts arrive when you leave. They love the wood paneling."

Ian: "Witch ghosts?"

Laura: "Yeah. The Paranormal Activity movies are really dumb. Demons don't haunt McMansions. They haunt little houses like this."

Ian: "That's actually quite true."

At that point, we began plotting how to redecorate the house. We decided to paint the wood paneling yellow and the floor a light shade of teal.

We traded the couches for a dining room table, and now the kitchen/ den is just a kitchen. Here are the before and after pictures:

Forgive the clutter. By this point, we had started painting and had piled most of our possessions on the counter.

This is why we painted the floor:

Again, with the clutter. We were deep into the redecorating at this point:

Ian: "This picture makes me feel anxious." As it should. This is what the house looked like when Ian underwent an emergency appendectomy:

After hours upon hours upon hours of work, here's the finished kitchen:

Laura: "Do you ever put up a Christmas tree?"

Ian: "No. I'm Buddhist."

Laura: "No...no Christmas tree? What if we called it a Buddhist tree?"

I love a decorated tree, so I bought two strings of white lights, and we strung them up on one of Ian's plants. Here's our Buddhist Christmas tree: 

Stay tuned. I'll post more about the home redecoration later.

Obssession

Ian and I are working on something that will serve as a gargantuan blog post someday: we're redecorating the house. The entire house. All of it.

We're a little bit poor, so we're subscribing to the school of thought that the best way to renovate a house is to slap paint on it. Varnished wood paneling? Crumbling bricks? Horrible floors? Put paint on it! Paint is the key to everything!

Why do rich people waste their money on things like stone and tile and hardwood? Folks, there's this thing called paint, and it only costs 20 bucks a can, and HAVE YOU SEEN WHAT IT CAN DO TO A ROOM? WOW.

Frankly, paint is to my adulthood what scotch tape was to my childhood.

I'm documenting the redecorating as we go, and I can't wait to post about it. In the meantime, I'm left with very little writing material. Because I'm currently obsessed with home decorating.

Obsessed. Obsessed. Obsessed. 

Ian and I have spent all of our free time working on the house. When we we're not working on the house, I'm googling design ideas.

When I'm at work, I visualize the house, thinking of decorating ideas, until I'm amped up on designer endorphins and can't wait to go home so I can run up the driveway screaming, "The shutters, Ian! The shutters!"

When I was a child, my parents insisted on painting everything tan. Likewise, Ian grew up with a lot of white and cream. My rule for the house: absolutely NO tan. Ian's rule for the house: absolutely NO cream.

We're going as bold and colorful as possible with the decorating.  

Because we can. 

I AM WOMAN; HEAR ME ROAR.

Update:

Ian and I are currently living in a wood paneling nightmare. I mean, have you ever tried painting over wood paneling? We started painting the wood paneling in the kitchen and den on Friday.

It's Tuesday, and the kitchen is still in shambles, the refrigerator and microwave are still in the bedroom, and the washing machine is still unplugged. I JUST WANT TO CLEAN MY CLOTHES AND NUKE A DINNER, YOU KNOW?

The wood paneling requires an ungodly amount of paint, and it takes an ungodly amount of time to apply. Yesterday I caught Ian staring at the walls in resigned defeat, so I clutched his hand and whispered, "Courage, brother."

Just in the nick of time, Ian discovered chigger bites all over his body.

Then he discovered poison ivy all over his arms.

Then he came down with sore throat, incessant sneezing, and extreme misery.

MY, WHAT PERFECT TIMING!

Then I realized Winnie had stepped in paint and had globs of yellow all over her feet, legs, and tummy.

I tend to laugh hysterically when everything starts to fall apart, so I spent the majority of last night giggling furiously.

Last Night:

Ian: "Sneeze! Sneeze! Sneeze! Sneeze! Sneeze! Sneeze! Sneeze! Sneeze!"

Laura: "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Winnie: <Looks yellow>

House: <Looks destroyed>

The house is in shambles, Ian feels like dying, and my brain is cracked out on home decorating.

Due to our insistence on bold and colorful, we may very well turn the house into a Candy Land nightmare. Stay tuned, y'all!