Bulb by bulb

Well, I survived another New Year's, much thanks to our friends in Chicago and five kids in a ball-filled pool in the middle of the family room. The evening's entertainment didn't require fancy dress or cheap champagne and only a couple of us were still up by midnight. Now that's what I call New Year's (though I did appreciate Becky's addition of sparklers. I'll keep that one in mind. Sparklers are definitely an underused and underappreciated party favor.)

So, onto the New Year, back to the fold. No more baklava binges (there are still ten pieces left, but they're at that not-so-fresh stage), out with all the blasted wrapping paper, tissue paper, ribbon, crapola.

In with... what? Well, I'm not predisposed for making New Year's resolutions (see previous post "Great Expectations"), but I'm always a sucker for making life a little better. Who ain't?

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My husband, the Brainy and Beautiful (and he deserves to be called beautiful, because he is), performed a determined act of mercy before we left for the weekend and painted our bathroom slate gray. Now, mind you, we've had that can of paint in our closet for almost the whole four months we've lived in this house. It was serving the important purpose of creating asylum for the dust-and-hair bunnies seeking exile from the bathroom floor.

Still, after all the deliberation and comparison between fifty gray paint chips and finding the chosen one, the gas went out. It was probably the combination of relief about living in a new house with the experience of having to paint my son's room three separate times that did it. My husband was so hopped up on paint fumes by the end of that tale that he needed to have four solid months of only organic, whole-grain products to clear his system.

Somehow, though, he got a bug in him last week that he wanted to do it and did it. Hallelujah! My bathroom has gone from a generic experience to an adult, cool place to be. And I can't say enough how important it is to have an adult place to be. It feels like this house is busting at the seams with everything for and by the Kid. Our love for him sometimes smothers us and we end up saying goofy things to each other like, He's so sweet. So adorable! Let's go wake him up!

(Don't worry. We don't go wake him up. We may be nut jobs, but I at least am a very sleep-loving nut job. More baby sleep, more mommy sleep. Only then is the world in its intended order.)

Now my husband has set his mind to painting our bedroom, and none-too-soon. The previous owners painted it the faintest, shittiest, nothingest yellow that makes everything just look shabby. Oh, and it looks absolutely horrific with our beige carpet. Let's paint the town red!

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On a related note of "a little can make a lot of difference", two ideas to ponder...:

Apparently, cattle contribute more to the greenhouse effect than emissions from cars! I mean, I knew that Germany, in its energy-consciousness, had thought of harnessing biogas from cows (not exactly sure what that looks like, but I'm sure it ain't pretty: think cows with afterburners?) but I never took the next logical step to think that eating less meat could also impact global warming. I am resolving to eat a bit less meat. Perhaps you could consider it, too?

And secondly, Wal-Mart (yes, Wal-Mart) has decided to do whatever they can to promote the use of energy-efficient light bulbs. Holy slave labor, batman! I've talked before about my husband's zeal for those soft-serve looking lightbulbs and the compromises we've reached (using them outside, in the garage and basement). As we look to add and replace some lighting in the house, we're now looking into LEDs, which also remain cool (and look cool!) So there are more options out there for saving the environment and at the same time saving yourself some dough.

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In the meatime, I am realizing what a difference it can make when two people (or more) decide to do something together. As I said above, my New Year's this year was so much better, much because everyone and everything distracted me from owning and rebelling against outside expectations.

And both my husband and I are prone to stasis. His recent brave charges into doing things (whether it be cleaning up the kitchen after a long day of toddler food fights or painting the bathroom) inspires me to be more determined to get off my bum and do more.

Move it, sista.