Wednesday, January 28, 2015

On Wednesdays We Blog

I'm hoping to eventually get this space back up more often than once a week. Until then, Wednesday is the day. Today I'm gonna shoot some real talk about our house- because like army moving, I have a lot to say. 

Like I mentioned last week, we're doing our best to settle in and make this place a home. Remember a while back when I mentioned our future house with a basement? I can't even tell you how excited I was about the thought of having my own house again... a yard, a playroom, a basement for storage! Our excitement had us completely blinded, we were more or less about to sign in blood for a house we had never toured. Juan did end up touring it, and thank the good Lord he did because we almost signed for a nightmare. I remember getting his phone call before boarding the plane to Texas for Thanksgiving and I vaguely remember him referencing Animal House. At first I was bummed- just like that, we no longer had a house. Easy come, easy go. And then Juan got a phone call that night. Another house had just become available. It was outside of the base gates, but still considered on post housing. It had a bigger yard and  -wait for it-  four bedrooms. Here's my blood, where do I sign? Juan and I were both able to tour it the next day and were immediately sold. It's older than your grandma, but it's a great amount of space for us. 

Everything but the appliances is outdated, and from what I hear there are no plans to renovate the neighborhood. So unless the foundation starts to buckle or an earthquake hits, we're stuck with the stained linoleum tile and dull countertops. I've got big plans and it's so so hard not to break the bank buying all that I'm imagining for the space. Juan's aunt back in Florida once told me that it takes years to make a home, things can't be bought all at once. I promise her words sounded far more wise… and they've really stuck with me. I have been known to go out and rapid buy decor and then hang it up as soon as I get my hands on a hammer and nail. This time around I'm waiting. Waiting for news on our broken furniture, and waiting to make sure we really like the placement of things. 

We've been sleeping on our slashed mattress with no headboard or footboard. (You can find them leaning against the wall, split in half, awaiting their fate.) Aside from the chalkboard in the kitchen, the small frames to the right are all that's hanging in our house. But oh, the space! I've been searching for the perfect rug for this room, and my creative wheels have been hard at work deciding which wall to slap some paint on. 

The walls are all an off white, which is okay in my book. I think they help to brighten the place up a bit, but we're allowed to paint upon approval. Our neutral furniture seems to fit right in, and once we find the perfect area rugs and throw pillows to liven up the rooms, I think we'll be pretty satisfied. Even the heinous brown baseboards have managed to do a fairly good job blending in with our neutral furniture. 

About the elephant log bed in our living room. I spotted it on Craigslist and knew Austin had to have it as his first big boy bed. Joke's on us because we slapped down 200 dollars on a damn bed that doesn't fit through the bedroom door frame. And wouldn't you believe it doesn't come apart. So in our living room it sits. We've been trying to resell it, but I'm starting to think we should just repurpose it as our back porch hangout. Are termites common in Texas?

I'll keep everyone updated with the progress of this place, the  s l o w  progress. This place needs to feel more like us by... the Fourth of July? That feels like an obtainable goal. Plus I have big plans to host our first party ;) 
Who says army housing has to be so drab??

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Remember Me?

Y'all. It's been two months. Did you think I was gone forever? I've entertained that thought once or twice, but I knew the break would only be temporary. Things have been so hectic! Thanksgiving in Texas, my birthday and Christmas back in Florida, and now here we are back in Texas, living. We did it, we moved! Really I thought I'd be back in the groove right after Thanksgiving- but reality hit when December rolled around and I took a hard look at my empty suitcases and boxes. I'm moving in like three weeks, do I need to be packed for that? If you follow on Instagram, you've already been getting glimpses of our life over the past few months, so I won't be backtracking to recap all that I've missed. But I'm totally reserving the right to spam you with pictures and thoughts from the bloggy break, per moments of nostalgia.

We had an awesome Christmas with my parents before beginning our new adventure. Up until the move, the furthest I had ever lived from my parents was just over two hundred miles. Throughout college and the first year and a half of marriage (and parenthood) my parents were always a phone call and three hour drive away. I was independent, yet still dependent in the sense that if Juan really pissed me off I could easily make the drive back home to mommy and daddy. And that happened... more than once or twice. But now that we live so far away, there's a whole new realm of feelings and a new reality. Juan and I are dependent on each other. We are each other's support system, and have been forced to improve in many different aspects of our marriage. Paramore rocks it to us real straight: Don't go crying to your mama 'cause you're on your own in the real world. In the short month that we've been here, both Juan and I have already been forced to grow up a tad bit more. That's not to say we're ready to switch over to full on grown-up mode, you'll still catch us hula hooping in the aisles at Target and buying the occasional pack of Ramen noodles.

A little rant about the actual moving part (and I'm no expert on moving nor army life), but as a new to army life family we are completely disappointed with the turn out of our move. I won't go as far as saying clowns were hired to move us... but clowns were hired to move us. If our furniture is not banged up or split in half, it's completely missing. Loaded onto the semi in Florida, no longer on the semi when unloading in Texas. Poof, vanished. Granted, the semi made a few deliveries along the way, but I can't seem to wrap my mind around the thought of someone being so oblivious to the freaking ginormous box full of Jeep Wrangler parts that was accidentally unloaded at the wrong house. Luckily we are only missing a few boxes and most of our stuff made it. Though from the looks of how it all made it, it was just barely. Tetris, anyone? If you take a close look, you can see Juan's motorcycle supporting the entire contents of our house. I can't even.

So we are now in the process of submitting damaged or missing items claims. A process that not only has us constantly worried about whether we will be reimbursed or SOL listed (SOL is not army jargon), but it also requires a stupid amount of paperwork and sales receipts. Receipts are obviously needed to confirm that what you are seeing is, in fact, our TempurPedic mattress with a giant slash in it and not Barbie's plastic toilet, duh. They are also needed to confirm the amount we paid for each item- luckily we bought most of our furniture from Ashley who will provide the documentation. But what if we hadn't? Will they really tell us we are shit out of luck if we can't provide the receipt from the lamp that was purchased four years ago? Sure, I have that receipt in my front pocket. Oh and it's fine that my end table is demolished, the Craigslist seller that I bought it from two years ago gave me a complimentary receipt. Ef.

That's what we're dealing with, praying it will be resolved soon. It is most discouraging trying to settle in and build a love for our house with our broken stuff taking up space. At the end of the day, most of it is still functional, and for that we are thankful. Thankful, too, that the four of us made it to Texas in one piece. 
I'm ready to make this house a home!