Dream Weaver

I am so sure you (my 4 followers) are bored with these lame stories and boring progress shots, but something really funny happened this morning and your gonna hear about it cause I DON'T GIVE A CRAP! My house is finally starting to resemble that of "a house" and not a nuclear testing site which makes me so emotional I am dangerous to be around. I might grab you and make you let me cry on your shoulder. Or I might blog about my wacky dream/realities and bore you to death.  Let me explain.

This morning when I heard G stirring on the monitor I did what I have done every morning for the past month.

-got outta bed and looked for some shoes and a jacket so I could shuffle onto the back patio where our fridge has been living to get G her morning milk. The jacket was on so I could brave the cold and take a healthy heaping breath in of our living hell, and the shoes, because my journey into the construction wilderness would leave me covered in dirt and dust. The same drywall and construction dirt and dust that has settled on every single solitary surface within a three mile radius of my nuclear testing site house.
I got outta bed to take the dreaded journey out of our room so I could curse myself and my choice to re-model our perfectly tolerable outdated and ugly home.... And then I stopped dead in my tracks.....and BAM!.......it hit me.

I rubbed my eyes and pinched my self... I stood at the patio door and stared at the empty spot where our fridge has been living and  Holy Shit, our fridge is not outside...It's gone...someone has stolen it. Someone has came in the night and backed thier truck up into my yard, loaded it up, and stolen my frickin fridge..

And then the loud screech of my teething toddler echoed in my ears and I realized that no one had stolen my fridge. My fridge was in the house.. In its correct spot in the wall nestled somewhere between my rough topped and almost finished kitchen island and my LAUDRY ROOM...All constructed and dust free..kinda. My fridge was there and my jacket and shoes were not needed because I had heating and floors. Beautiful, beautiful floors. And a warm and cozy.... kinda... HOUSE.

I happily filled G's cup full of milk and ran into our room...."Ducky..the fridge hasn't been stolen. It's in the wall inside the house and we have floors...Ducky there are floors out there"

His look made me realize that I have officially lost my damn mind and that this kinda brain damage is most likely irreversible but I don't  care.
I have a fridge thats inside my house!

Pictures to prove it!!!