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The Crayon Situation – Part 2

12 Mar

So, an update on the crayon situation. Several friends have tipped me off to the Magic Eraser, which probably would have been a great fix, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the suggestion. However, the Magic Eraser does me no good at all when I keep forgetting to buy it at the store. Fun fact: the memory section of my brain only functions in two scenarios – as I am just drifting off to sleep, and upon being reminded by an alarm or some sort of written list. Since the M.E. never made it onto my grocery (or any other) list, I only thought about it in bed. Why I didn’t just grab my phone and put it on my list, we’ll never know. It’s not like my phone’s not laying 2 feet from my head all night long, just hanging out on my nightstand, pumping dangerous rays into my brain.

Anyway, I never got the eraser thing, and eventually pretty much forgot all about the crayon on the wall – until about 10 minutes before we were supposed to have company over. And you know what they say…



So I did what should have been done in the first place and let the internet solve my problem. In classic Google fashion I didn’t even have to finish typing the question before they brought me to the solution:

How to Get Crayon off Wall

  • Point a hair dryer at the wall
  • Turn on the hair dryer and space out for a few seconds
  • Wipe crayon with rag
  • Marvel at how well that worked
  • Feel like mother of the year who really has her life together

The heat from the hair dryer totally melts the crayon and you can just wipe it off. Oh the simplicity! I did add a little Dawn to the rag, not sure how much of a difference that made. Also, I have no idea if this would ruin your wall if you had a special kind of paint or something. We just have some run o’ the mill satin eggshell business from Home Depot and it worked fine. Probably don’t go blow drying your Persian silk wallpaper or anything like that. If you do have crayon all over your really expensive walls, and you can’t blow dry them, I’m sorry that I don’t have better advice for you.

Also, this just in: My sewing machine is NOT broken; the problem was a rather sad user error. In an upcoming blog I’ll show you some of the stuff I’m trying not to ruin working on. Try to contain your excitement!


Are you still there? I am.

21 Jun

Well. Hello there!

So it’s 2012, in case you weren’t sure. Almost 3 years after my last blog post. Not sure what exactly happened after that last post. Amnesia? Depression that no one besides my mother ever commented (I love you Ma!)? I appear to have completely forgotten that I even had a blog.

I’m really sad to have lost documentation of the last 3 years. I could’ve had a real nice little diary to look back on. From continuing the journey of trying to sell our house to finally deciding to let go and call Texas our home. Finding an amazing church home and reconnecting with God. My husband finding and devoting his life to the Lord, and thriving in his career. Our son growing into the vibrant 4 year old he is today. The birth of our daughter, who is a month away from her first birthday.

Our cat still vomits on the floor. But now we have wood, so it’s not so bad. Plus strangers no longer traipse through our house regularly, so I don’t care if she does. I once again deal with occasionally stinky cloth diapers, but there was like 2 years there where they were all packed away in a closet and I didn’t have that problem. Unfortunately you missed that. I’m still painfully cheap. I have aged 3 years but amazingly, have retained much of my charm. See, in many ways life is just as it was.

Worst showing ever.

27 Aug

So we don’t really get all that excited these days when we have a showing on our house, because we’ve had so many that amounted to nothing. But it’s true that we might get a little excited and say a small prayer whenever someone comes to look…because you never know who will be the ones to bite. Well I’ll tell you who it WON’T be. The people who came today between 2:00 and 3:30pm.

Rewind with me to this morning. I am getting Wilson and myself ready for work, and staging the house at the same time. As I’m tidying the guest bathroom, closing the shower curtain to hide Wil’s bath toys, straightening the hand towels, and putting the hand soap under the sink (because hand soap is offensive to prospective buyers, did you know that?). I notice while I’m in there that the diaper pail kind of stinks. This totally freaks me out, because I pretty much am always afraid that my house smells like a port-a-potty because of the dirty cloth diapers. The fact that I don’t smell them often is no comfort, because I’m convinced that I must have gotten used to the smell and therefore don’t notice it anymore. So me smelling them right then is a huge red flag that they must really stink. I open the lid…sure enough, jam packed. What was I supposed to do? I definitely didn’t have time to wash them, I had to leave for work!

ps-I know what you’re thinking, because it occured to me later, so clearly. I should have just dumped them in the washer, turned it on rinse, and left. My brain likes to punk me by throwing up blockers to good ideas, then lifting the block once it’s too late to do anything about it. My brain was on a roll this morning. It also made me prepare my iced coffee, leave without it, and remember about it halfway to work.

ANYWAY– I just left, and prayed the potential buyers wouldn’t linger too long in the guest bath. Fast forward to later in the afternoon, and we get home, walk in the door, and it’s the first thing I see: Olive has given oral birth to a huge and disgusting hairball right there in the dining room, below the glossy stack of flyers boasting our  “Beautiful Move-In Ready Home” on our table. My stomach drops, because I just know it was there long before the showing, and there’s no chance they didn’t see it. I figure it played out something like this: The lady buyer (who is most likely newly pregnant, and has a heightened sense of smell) got so disgusted at seeing the hairball that she ran into the guest bathroom because she felt sick. She is struck by an overwhelming stench of human waste, where she is made even sicker. She cries out to her husband, “Get me out of here!!” Husband, wife, and realtor all run away as fast as they can, never to return.

Sound plausable? Take a look at a screen shot of the feedback from that showing, and tell me what you think…

I’m mortified. I am so glad the feedback mentions nothing about the smell of diapers. I wouldn’t be able to handle that. I’m going to try to pretend this showing never happened. We got the cat some anti-hairball medication, in case you were wondering. The end.

All of my house is a stage

15 Jun

I have just spent the weekend making my house beautiful for the benefit of others. Otherwise known as staging.

Our home is going on the market next week and this weekend has been primarily spent making our home look like a pottery barn catalog.  Well ok, not pottery barn, but definitely Garden Ridge, if they put out a catalog. The thing that has been bugging me is that we always had excuses not to spruce up our home back after we moved in. We didn’t want to spend the money, we don’t really have many visitors anyway, why bother, bleh blah. Like it wouldn’t be worth it if only we got to enjoy it.  But now that we’ve put in the effort, it looks fab! I find myself trying to take snapshots of various parts of the house so I can re-create the decor after we move.

I love the amazingness of Garden Ridge. I love living in a world where you can buy a complete bath towel set for less than a Big Mac. And yes, I also had a Big Mac this weekend, and it was divine.



my quest to establish the new "me"

The Good Greatsby

Paul Johnson's comedy blog: I didn't get into comedy to be rich or famous. All I've ever wanted was to be somebody rich and famous.

Simon C. Holland

some things are awesome, some not so much.