Yesterday was no different. Except that it took until 10 or so before we got dressed and began our productive activities for the day. Friday B.A.R. actually repainted the stairs to the basement (but we already had the paint). They had been pretty beat up with all the moving of stuff into the basement. That put him in the mood to repaint the walls and ceiling down there. They had sustained some damage too.
We had been discussing repainting our bedroom too. I wanted a color that matches our decor better. Trying to explain what color I wanted, I was told to go get some samples at the store (at some later date).
Friday B.A.R. took a home office day, and worked in the office most of the day. He did also look into the leaks that our windows randomly exhibit. He cleaned and resealed the window joints in two of the windows. Apparently the windows were dirty, so dirty that he thought we should get some window washing stuff so that he could remedy that.
So yesterday we worked (after being lazy for a few hours) on the house. I vacuumed the carpets and hard floors, I vacuumed the ceiling fans, and B.A.R. vacuumed the window tracks (this window thing must really have been getting to him. Later he even vacuumed the basement! I did a couple of loads of laundry, and shopped online for vanity lights (another future project).
After lunch we went to Lowe's together to get prepared for our projects. I picked up about 20 paint samples for the bedroom, and white paint for the basement stairwell.
While B.A.R. washed the windows I started making pizza for dinner (from scratch). A few minutes into that the baby starts screaming for dinner. I placated him for a while, until daddy could sit and play with him. I went in with some baby food, bib and a spoon, but realized that I needed to finish cutting stuff up for the pizza, and take the crust out of the oven so I just set it on the table. About the time I was putting the toppings on the pizza B.A.R. comes in and says, "He is so your son."
I respond with, "He is a gauntlet to feed. The hands going so fast that it becomes impossible to get the spoon to the mouth with food still on it."
"You mean what just happened is normal?"
He helped me with the toppings and I popped the pizza in the oven. When I went in there the container of food was gone, and there was less food than I imagined on his tray and clothes. There was none on the floor or walls. I was so impressed with how much dad actually got in his mouth.
B.A.R. helped with the bi-monthly ritual of calming Tiger while we cut his hair. After the boys were in bed, B.A.R painted the stairwell walls and ceiling. I made cookies for my primary class, and shuttled juice up to Tiger (who didn't eat dinner and won't go to bed hungry). Then I cut B.A.R.'s hair.