Death Is Not An Option

One of the fun things about moving into a new home is decorating it to show your family's personality. Do you like fun and funky bright colors? Or do you prefer the museum feel where your guests (or should I say visitors) ooh and ahh over evey little thing but don't want to sit down anywhere for fear of putting a dent in a cushion. I perfer the come in, sit down and feel like you never have to leave vibe. When people come to my home I want them to feel comfortable, relaxed and free to be themselves. The problem is that right now the inside of my home is stick in 1976 and it is screaming to be set free.

There is only one room that wasn't wallpapered when we moved in and boy did that room get painted fast. Then we decided to try what is now the girls' room and see if we could get the wallpaper down. Well, when we got down to the fourth layer of paper there was no other choice than to call in the pros and pay a small fortune to have the paper removed. They did an awesome job but now we're back to reality and removing the rest of the paper ourselves. We started in the dining room on Monday and it hasn't been so bad. The first two layers were easy to remove but that third layer is a bitch. So, if death were not an option, which would you prefer?

Layer 1?

Layer 2?

Or layer 3?

I kind of like the toile (that would be #3). It is a nice scene and my kids like sheep and donkey's so it would make them happy. #2 is a little plain for my taste, it's kind of like the vanilla yogurt of wallpaper. Layer #1 hasn't been hard to live but it's a little too, what's the word, denimy for my taste. Not to mention that if you look at those flowery things just right they look like little girls in dresses and assorted creepy crawly things. Hopefully the walls will be finised and ready to paint by the end of next week. Then I'm on to picking the paint color and that is going to be harder than removing the wallpaper.

Did I say that?

Did I say I would start writing regularly again and not forget about this place? I think I did *blushes*. Between trying to get my walls out of the 70's, get Natalie ready for Kindergarten and Alyssa started in Preschool, my free time has been almost non-existant.

Natalie is loving K. She really likes her teachers (so do I), she's made so many new friends and is just all around a happy and fun person. I was helping her roller skate today (or, helping her not fall while wearing her skates) and all of a sudden it hit me. She is no longer my older baby. She is an honest to goodness little girl. Her face has lost all evidence that she was once a baby and the realization makes me want to cry. I'm not sure if I want to cry because I've lost something or if it's because I'm excited for all the new things that she will be experiencing in this new territory. When the little girl around the corner comes over, they like to have private time for "girl talk". I can't imagine it's anything more exciting than what she and her stuffed animals where playing that morning but the thought of it is still odd to me. The thought that she has a life separate from me is strange as well. I know all the names of her school friends but on the occasion that I see her class in the halls at school it is obvious that *I* am the outsider. When exactly does it happen? When do our lives make the shift from our children trying to be on our inside to us trying to get into theirs? I hope I don't find out for a very long time.