Chim Chim Cheree...

I check on Gwendy every night before I go up to bed.  Last night when I first walked into her room I noticed her basket of hair accessories spilled on the floor, and as I squinted in the dark room I could see something black was smeared all over and around it.  "Oh God, please don't be poop!" was my first thought, but no, upon closer inspection it was a small plastic tray of greasepaint leftover from some Halloween years ago or a scene study from school or something.  I had (stupidly) left an old makeup bag in Gwen's room from having painted her nails and she had climbed up to get it and smeared said greasepaint all over the rug:

With a sigh of resignation I bent down to start cleaning up.  And suddenly it occurred to me that I hadn't actually looked at Gwen yet.  And when I did, this is what I saw:

You guys, I couldn't even be mad-  I was laughing so hard I nearly peed my pants-  but now I had the problem of what the hell to do.  I couldn't very well leave her like that, but I knew full well she was not going to take kindly to be awoken at 11:30pm to wash up.  Well first, I got the camera.  Because, come on?  I then took a baby wipe and started cleaning her face, and eventually she woke up enough to go with me to the bathroom for some bigger intervention (the baby wipe was a bit like fighting a forest fire by waving a towel at it):
after wiping her face a bit...making progress....
enjoying this way too much.
When we got into the bathroom, I began running the water to get it warm and figured I'd show her what she'd done.  "Look at your face, baby!" I told her as I held her up to the mirror. "AHH!!! NO!!! I SCARED OF THAT SCARY THING!!"  She refused to accept any explanation I offered that it was actually her own face that she'd seen and once I'd gotten her settled and somewhat clean she still kept mumbling "Makeup is scary, Momma" every so often.

I had to change all her bedding and I'm still not sure what to do about the rug- my attempt to clean it has made a giant black vortex a la "The Ring".  And even after several washings Gwen has a distinct swarthy look today, kind of like Captain Jack Sparrow:

...But every so often, your kid does something that you just know will go into the Legend of Her.  And this one, this one's for the books.  Well played, my little Chimney Sweep.


I got the POWER!

Progress! Thank GOD! Pause to picture Gav doing a jaunty victory strut, maybe dressed like Uncle Sam? I don't know why, just do it.  Ok, done? Good. Anyway.

We started the week out on a rotten note- we were on our 4th dumpster, still battling an endless miasma of dust, and to top it all off we got a notice from our home owner's insurance that they were dropping us because our house was under renovation and not yet being lived in.  Wait, what? So people don't renovate their houses? Whatever. Jerks.

Turns out it was a blessing in disguise though.  We used the motivator of needing to have another insurance walk-through with whatever new company we go with to get serious and call in some reinforcements.  We were all set to blow whatever we had to on a Yellowpages electrician when a small miracle happened.  The Taper got an electrician who happens to be a good family friend to agree to make room in his uber-busy schedule and get cracking on getting us wired and back in business.  And better yet, the day after we called him it was supposed to rain so his job that day had been cancelled.  In less than 24 hours we had a licensed master electrician rigging up all sorts of fabulous new sparky magics to our house.  And in a couple more visits (scheduled this weekend!) we should be ready to move forward with insulation, plumbing, and-dare I say it?- closing up the walls! BOO YAH!

In other news, we pried all the stick-on tile up from the kitchen, mudroom, and bedrooms.  Let's take a moment, shall we, to focus on the fact that at some point in recent history people thought it was a cute idea to glue mustard-colored tile over their hardwood floors.  When you wrap your mind around that concept, you kind of understand how there is war and strife in our world.  Anywho, turns out whatever money was not spent on maintaining and repairing this house (I'm talking plumbing fixed with duct tape, y'all) was apparently spent on floor adhesive procured from NASA for use on space shuttles.  Like, that tile was on FOR KEEPS.  Now that it's gone there's this horrid gluey scum on the floors that shows no sign of coming up easily. It's like a giant Scratch-n-sniff sticker of evil, the scent being "Musty Old House".  Bring on the gloves and caustic chemicals, yo.  I will get that glue off if it's the last thing I do, if only to show them they haven't broken me.  And by them I mean the those guys at This Old House, the smug bastards.

I spent a long day with the the Taper getting that fourth dumpster packed to the gills, and literally just as we were talking about when to go to the scrap yard with our pile o' metal and junk appliances, some guys came by with a panel van and offered to buy it off us.  So I made $120 off a pile of garbage, recycled like a good green girl, AND I didn't have to lug it anywhere.  <For the win.

So yeah, this weekend should be way productive.  And that's the best thing ever, because I don't mind hard work- I just hate sitting on my hands.  Once the wiring is done, everyone else can go about doing what they do best.  And when everyone involved with this project does their best...well....it's pretty badass.