The End, Nursery Project, & The Wreck

The end as we know it

In case you haven’t heard, the world is ending on Saturday. In honor of this momentous occasion, I thought I’d post one last time. I’d suggest listening to the Fleet Foxes Pandora station while you read this, only because that’s what I’m listening to as I write it. Let’s make our last few days as sentimental as possible.

By the way, as I researched why May 21, 2011 is the end of the world, I found this: On May 21st, 1988, God finished using the churches and congregations of the world. The Spirit of God left all churches and Satan, the man of sin, entered into the churches to rule at that point in time.

Did you know this? I know The Hills doesn’t know it. Someone should tell our preacher.

Nursery Project

Something about being home alone all day brings out the wanna-be crafter in me. Especially when I see crafty stuff that Christie does (see blog here) for her little dude’s nursery, it makes me want to do something fancy for Beckett.

Hence: the cabinet project.

One of my favorite children’s books has always been I’ll love you forever by Robert Munsch.

I knew I wanted to use the song from this book in his nursery somewhere, but I didn’t know how until I saw this cabinet at a store in Grapevine that had 1 Corinthians 13 painted on the dresser. I start thinking and drawing up how I want this sucker to look, so I go to Lowe’s to buy paint.*

The bedding we’ve picked has really bright colors and matching pastel colors. It’s a whole specific palette. I’ve researched this stuff. By the time I go into Lowe’s, I know exactly what I’m looking for. As I’m looking at colors with a little owl stroller toy that matches the bedding in my hand, this teased-hair, leopard-and-rose-print shirted customer comes up and hands me a few more color samples saying, “These are more soothing for a nursery…” followed by “…you aren’t planning on putting those colors together are you?” She nearly got her braces knocked into the back of her head. I only comment on her attire because I refuse to take advice from someone who is out of style in general.

I’m off topic. Long story short, I transformed a dresser we have that will double as a changing table:



I’m pretty excited about how it turned out. I’ll get a better picture once it’s in his room. Now I need more creative genius…keep it coming.

*honorary mention to Nedra “JoJo” Sparks for the design consultation.

The Wreck with the Thing

Let me recap our last 6 months for you: We find out we’re pregnant, my older brother lives with us for a few months, we move houses, Taylor travels for 5 weeks (and works 70-90 hour weeks), I get laid off, a friend in small group dies suddenly…and on and on. It’s been crazy to say the least. Feel free to insert “neighbor’s monkey bites child on our street” in there too…that was a notable mention from this past week.

So yesterday, to add to my excitement thus far, I got in a decently-bad wreck. I was on my way to eat dinner with a one Kellie Farrell and got hit (I’ll do anything to get out of dinner) by a …I don’t even know what to call this thing… that thought it would be fun to turn right from the middle lane of the road.

The mean, scary, water-excavation “thing”:

My sweet, little baby Edge:

Luckily no one was hurt except my car and a measly front guard of the “thing”. I never want to be in accidents, but I do love it when the people that hit me are nice. This gentlemen was very nice. Imagine how you’d feel if you, driving that “thing”, hit me, a pregnant lady. I’d imagine I’d be just as shaken up as he was. Maybe that’s why he was so very nice.

Every time I tried to tell insurance, the police, Taylor, etc. what kind of car hit me, I did a lot of stammering only to say, “A huge thing. I don’t know what the heck kind of vehicle it is.” I’ve always been a descriptive one.

I called my doctor and told them just to be on the safe side, so they called me in to meet with 3 (three!) people. I had a fetal monitor on for 1 hour, a sonogram, and a visit with the nurse practitioner. All the thanks I get from Beckett for getting him checked out was being punched and kicked ferociously during the 2 hour visit. He’ll thank me one day.

Seriously, he’s fine. Cars can be fixed – I’m just glad baby B is happy and healthy (and feisty as ever). I am also not proposing to get in a wreck just so you can have a sonogram, but I was happy that I got to see him. They gave me a memento for my troubles.

Sir Beckett Brooks, everyone.

We still haven’t heard from the other guy’s insurance, so we will be rockin out the GMC Sierra sans AC and the infamous Brooks family Volvo for a while until we can get the Edge fixed. I feel sure our neighbors think that we are running some sort of illegal operation out of our house. We have 4 cars consistently changing places in our driveway.

C’mon, insurance!

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