My Life Is a Reality Show Mashup

Miss Filly, at 5 months, finally had her 4-month check-up with her new doctor, and all is well. Fil is 13 pounds 2 ounces, which puts her in the 25th percentile, incidentally, that's higher than the Nut ever was as an infant. And, get this, still 75th percentile for length. I could see the nurse got a very good length measurement this time, but marking her head and legs on the examination table paper and then measuring from mark to mark. So, no need to worry, she's just one lanky baby. Also her head size is good and the answer to every milestone question was "yes, and how!"

As we were leaving the office one of the nurses commented that Fil seemed "older than her age." Or maybe they were talking about me. Premature gray does run in my family on my dad's side, and the last time I got my hair cut, I was amazed to see how many of the hairs on my smock were white or gray. I'm in the 90th percentile for graying. But back to Fil: I just hope she waits until kindergarten before she starts wearing eye makeup. The Nut already pressured me into painting her fingers and toenails once, just because her best friend Etchy's mom does his.

So now that I've been assured that my baby's not wasting away (we have no such concern with Nutmeg, who went to a 4-year-old's birthday party this weekend and was just as tall and broad as any guest there) my attention turns back to the house. I noticed some light black mold or mildew spotting the basement walls in some places yesterday, and my eye pain and itching intensified while I was down there. This actually delighted me because basement mold is so much easier to fix than under-bathroom-wall mold. One dehumidifier, one bucket of bleach water, and that should be taken care of. Also, I'm seeing a specialist Thursday about the eyes, which went back to as bad as they ever were over the weekend after I ran out of the steroid drops. Of course, today they're not so bad, right on track for being symptom-free by the time of my appointment. Just to flare up worse than ever in the car on the way home, of course.

I spent the weekend home alone with just Fil (Epu went to Michigan for a bachelor party, the abondonner) taping up the living room and painting it a lovely base coat of a sky blue that, reminds me of Cuba, especially on the archway leading to our dining room. I didn't finish the front area of our living room, what used to be the front porch, and I plan to do so today if Fil ever goes down for an afternoon nap. Fil's sleeping or lack thereof, that's another story.

Painting a new (to you) house is a good way to get to know every wart and freckle and cancerous tumor of the place. You notice how some of the window sashes have big mysterious gaps and how one is barely hanging onto the wall. You see what color the rooms used to be when you find the spots where the previous owners smudged paint on the woodwork (Funnily enough, our living room used to be blue before the tan that came before the current new blue. It wants to be blue, I guess.) You find, and, if you're Epu, fix every crack, dent, hole and pathetically loose wall fixture.

The funny thing is, when we bought this house we had hoped to find one that needed more cosmetic work or maintenance so we could get a good deal. Walking through those couple times, we had no idea how much cosmetic work and deferred maintenance it already had. Nothing is huge -- well, except the rotting, moldy bathroom -- but every little thing takes forever when your workday is 3 to 5 p.m. and then 9:30 to 11:30 p.m. Those hours are if I'm lucky and both girls nap at the same time. And also in that workday is, of course, the laundry, dishes and all that other regular crap that for some reason won't stop just because we have a house to work on.

Anyway, Nutmeg is making all kinds of noises upstairs and Fil is -- oh, please, please -- falling asleep on the breast, so a trip upstairs is due. Tune in next time for another great episode of the Supernanny/This Old House mashup.

Ooh, I would watch that. Wouldn't you?