Last Time I Cried

Over the past 10 years I can remember crying in public on only a few occasions. One of those occasions was when I built a paver patio at our first house. At that time I promised myself I would never take on another project like that.

 I don't know if it is:
A.  the passage of time or,
B.  the attractiveness of my wife or,
C.  my stupidity,
 that makes me forget these promises, but somehow Lauren convinced me that we should build a slate patio.

Lauren dug out the approximate area she wanted to cover. with the slate.

We ordered the slate/flagstone from The Flower Station. They were nice enough to place the stone close to the work area.

We dug some more. We had to level the area to prep for the five yards of modified gravel needed for the foundation.

The last time I built a patio, it was during this phase that I had my breakdown. I pushed through it this time. We centered the foundation for the fire pit the best that we could and started the process of placing the stones.

Placing the stones was like putting together a puzzle. This proved to be the most challenging part. The stones are heavy and awkward to lift. There was lots of moving of the same pieces over and over again to make it all fit.

The Patio/Fire Pit turned out looking pretty good.

The kids like it, I like it, and Lauren loves it.

And this picture makes me realize the answer is B.

New Flooring

A few months ago I posted a story about how my wife felt compelled to change our fire place. I mentioned at the end of that post that since the fireplace looked so good I was now going to have to change the rest of the of the room. The story of begats, one project begets another.

When Lauren and I first moved into this house we kind of agreed we would not tackle a remodel of the Family Room until our boys were old enough to not pee on the floor or furniture. We kind of agreed that before  re-do of our main hang-out space our boys would not do things like this...

or this...

Both courtesy of Jackson.

We felt we did not want to spend the time, energy or money on new furniture, paint and flooring only to have them ruined by rambunctious boys and bodily fluids. But then Lauren went and built a new mantle.

The Family Room mantle went from this,

to this.

No amounts of urine, vomit, eggs, paint and dog hair could make the rest of the room look any less attractive than it did compared to Lauren's awesome work on the mantle piece. The time had come to begat the Family Room.

Last week I took a week vacation from work to, well, work. I tore out the old carpets and padding that were there for at least 20 years. If I did not get cancer from years of  cigarette smoking, I am pretty sure I will get it from the nastiness that was in and under that carpet. We removed all the old trim, painted the walls, re-ran the cable wires, bought a new couch, added new freshly painted trim and moulding and....and...and...I installed laminate flooring. I am very proud of my work.

The first thing that the boys did after I finished the floor was to put on socks and "ice skate" for a few hours. They only chipped a small piece of the new floor so far.

I hope I will eventually post a complete "after" picture including the couch and the area rug before someone takes a Sharpie to them.

High Fives

Most times when it comes to home improvement projects, which we call Begats , I do most of the grunt work. I usually handle the demolition, tear outs, heavy lifting and dirty work. Lauren will do all the refined precise work like, planning, measuring, painting, tiling, and specific carpentry. This arrangement has worked out well for us as a couple and as home owners. You can see our other projects here, here, here, here  and I am sure there are more on the blog somewhere.

Lauren decided she did not like our fireplace. She was determined to change it. The best part was that this project was all in the scope of her area of home projects. I did not need to be involved at all. Which was perfect with the start of football season and all.

The other day, on the radio, I heard the phrase "God high fives over her." The guy who said it was referring to an attractive woman and it was meant that God is proud of his creation and that God is giving high fives to his buddies. I found it to be a funny phrase. I also thought this was a perfect phrase to describe my wife Lauren. Besides the fact that Lauren is extremely attractive, Lauren is also extremely talented.

With the assistance of our neighbor Mr. Jones, Lauren took our fireplace from this:

To this. The entire mantle was built from scratch. Lauren did most of the work.

I didn't even have to help at all. Well I did buy her the Mitre Saw five years ago. And I also helped carry some of the supplies. And I took care of the kids while she was building the mantle. And I did do my best to stay out of her way. And I told her the scores to the football games on the TV. So pretty much the new fireplace was a team effort.

God high fives over Lauren.

But now that the fireplace is done and looks awesome the rest of the room looks a little beat. And of course that means we have to Begat the whole room. We need new walls, new floors, some electrical work and of course new fixtures and furniture. It is going to be a  lot of work, all in the scope of my area of home projects.

So while God is high fiving, I can't help but feel he is also chuckling a little bit at me.

Begatting the Powder Room

A few weeks ago Lauren told me she wanted to Begats the powder room. The powder room is on the first floor of our house and is used mostly by the kids and also by any guests or company we may have over. After being in the house for almost four years, 80% of the house has been renovated, re-done or begats some how. The powder room definitely needed a change.

As with all of make-over projects I get to do all of the dirty demolition work. I removed the old sink, tore off the old paneling and scraped the old linoleum floor, exposing the Asbestos tiles underneath which we did not remove.

 I got to use tools like a bucket, an iron, a scraper and a towel.

Once all of surfaces were exposed we laid down a new floor using self adhesive vinyl tiles.

After the floor was done Lauren went to work. My wife does all the fine tuning and decorative work. She got to use tools like, a level, a brad nail gun, liquid nails and a caulk gun, a mitre saw, paint rollers and other cool gadgets. Our neighbor and friend, Nelson, helped us with the plumbing on a new pedestal sink (if you are local to me and you need an HVAC guy email me and I will give you Nelson's phone number). I installed a new light fixture and Lauren finished the room with her decorative touches.

 I think the best part of the room is the light fixture, which is not pictured here because it is too awesome to show. I think Lauren did a nice job with the overall makeover.

She went with  a French/Paris theme for the decorations. Why French/Paris? Because it is the room you use to Oui-Oui.

Hairy

I can barely type this post. I'm hurting.

I am not kidding I can barely keep my arms up on the desk to reach the keyboard.

It all started a few weeks ago after this incident in the ER. Since I had to sit for a few hours, with no shirt on, while nurses looked at me I realized something about myself; I am a very hairy person.

The next day I took my electric beard trimmer and trimmed some of the chest hair that was creeping up my neck protruding from my collar.

The next day after that I looked in the mirror and I realized that now that I trimmed the hair on my upper chest, my lower chest hair and nipples looked kind of wild and unkempt. I trimmed that as well. I remember having contests with my brothers to see who could have the longest nipple hair, now I was cutting them all off.

The next day after that, I looked in the mirror and I realized how silly the hair looked on my belly while my chest was all nice and neat. So I charged up the trimmer and I clipped the hair on my stomach including the "trail to happiness".

The next day after that I found myself trimming all the hair on my trunk and upper legs. I could not stop myself. Everywhere I looked I messed up somewhere, something was uneven, and I had to trim and cut and shear. It was like the begatting of hair trimming. The next thing I knew I was practically all stubble from neck to mid-thigh.

The next day after that, I told Lauren what happened. She laughed.

The next day after that, I looked in the mirror and without the fur coat I usually sported I realized I was fat. With no hair to hide my man boobs, my man boobs looked like, well, really big man boobs. Without the hair under my chest and on my belly I could see just how much of a gut I was getting. My spare tire looked like it could fit a pick-up truck. Everything looked bigger with no hair (yes even that did too except now I looked like some pre-pubescent boy with a large gut.)

Tonight, I started the P90x workout. I am sure you have seen the infomercial for this intense 90 day workout. I did chest and arms. Now I hurt. I can barely type this post.

Part of the program they suggest taking a Day 1 photo of your body (no shirt) to compare it to pictures at Day 30, Day 60 and Day 90. I did not take the day one photo. I am afraid if I did, when I compared it to the later pictures it would look like time lapse photos of me turning into a werewolf, or maybe a human Chia-pet.

Till: A four letter word

I was eleven or twelve years old when Steve G, a fellow percussionist in our middle school band, told me that the definition of the word “Fuck” according to the Oxford Unabridged Dictionary was “to turn over ones garden; to till soil; to plow.” Steve told me I could use the word “fuck” as long as it was in context and I would not get in trouble by any teacher because it was in the dictionary. I did not believe him. He convinced me by pointing out that in Health Class we were learning how sperm is like a seed; that one of the euphemisms for having sex was to plow someone, and that is why a girl’s virginity was also referred to as her flower. He told me the word “till” and the word “fuck” were interchangeable.

Steve G was very compelling. I am not sure if he believed the story himself or if he was trying to trick me. He was the lead drummer and played the drum set and I was just the kid who played the tambourine, so I looked up to him. Or maybe I was gullible. Needless to say I got a detention from Mr. Mauro when I told him I had to leave band practice early so I could go and “Fuck” my garden.


Lauren and I decided to start a vegetable garden in our back yard. We decided the best spot for the garden would be where we have a decent sized tiger lily bed. My job on Saturday was to till the garden and take up all the tiger lily bulbs. I couldn’t help but remember what Steve G told me back in 7th grade.

Part of the gardening process of course became an outdoor begats session. We needed to dig up an Azaela bush, which begat me digging up a large decorative grass, which begat me planting the grass in another location which begat me digging another hole. Somewhere in the midst of all the digging I tweaked something in my back. Tweak is not a strong enough word to describe what I did to my mid-lower back. No, what I did to my back was I messed it the Till up.

Sunday morning I picked up Jackson and I swung him from my left hip to my right hip when most excruciating pain shot out from below my shoulder blade down to my foot.
“Oh Till” I said as I placed Jackson on the ground and I lowered myself to the floor. I cried out for Lauren to come and help me.

“What the Till?” I thought, “I must have really Tilled up my back.” The pain subsided after a few moments.

Later, Lauren left me to go to a craft show, I took the kids food shopping. Max and Wyatt went into the kid care center while I took Jackson in the cart. As I shopped Jackson played the drop game by dropping everything I gave him, the keys, the sippy cup, the bottle, just so he could watch me pick it up. Every time I bent down I could feel a twinge in my back muscles. We were in the soup aisle when I realized that my shopping cart, now half full, was too far in the center of the aisle. I steered the front wheels towards the shelves but I could not maneuver the back of the cart due to an old lady standing in the way. I tried to dead lift the back of the shopping cart when I felt something snap and twist in my back.

My knees went out from under me. “Mother Tiller!” I huffed through gritted teeth and I knelt on all fours. I broke out into a sweat as I realized I was not going to be able to get up. Jackson looked down at me, smiled and dropped my keys on my head.

It took me a minute or two to catch my breath and I slowly turned over and scooted my back against the shelves of store brand tomato soup. I took a few deep breaths and using the shelves as a brace I tried to push myself up. The old lady asked me if I was okay. I thanked her as she reached out and held me steady as I stood up. Man was I Tilling embarrassed.

I have a prescription for when my herniated discs flare up and when I got home I decided to a take a couple of them to help ease the pain I was feeling. My back was Tilling killing me. I took the rest of the day easy trying my best to nurse my back. When Lauren returned we decided to make some frozen drinks and enjoy the nice weather on the patio. Some neighbors stopped by and I made another batch of drinks. After a while Lauren asked me if I was okay. She said I was slurring my words and I was acting a bit strange. It was then that I remembered that I took the pills.

Needless to say I was little Tilled up.

I don't know if he knew it then but Steve G was kind of right about the word. I tilled my garden and my garden tilled me right back.


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Winners from last week's contest.
My first issue of Avengers was #188. The three winners of the Iron Man childrens books are Diet Goddess, Nilbo, and Shannon. (Gretchen was close too but she left a duplicate answer which was against the rules).

The winner of the Sausage a month for a year goes to Gwen.

Please email me batmeaks@ verizon .net so I can get your address.

Looking Ahead

Last year I wrote a post about all the things I wanted to write about in 2009. I liked the way that “looking ahead” worked out for me. A few of the stories on my 2009 list did not happen so I will include them on my list of hopeful posts for 2010.

I really want to thank all of you who stop here and read my blog on a regular basis. I really enjoy the feedback, comments, links, laughs and community that y’all provide me every day.

Seriously, thank you.

What I hope to post about in 2010: Poop and Boogies turns 5 (with a possible give-away), a story about me winning the lottery, how I lost 20 pounds, a guest post by my brother Anonymous, stories about the show (the Pillowman)I am acting in, how I got to meet various bloggers, finishing begatting my man space, stories from the time I worked in the nightclub business, my trip to BlogHer, Frankie Pickle book review and how I had lunch with the author, making an appearance on Saturday Night Live (a dream of mine since High school), The Accident Story from when I was 11, A story about how I surprised my wife for her 36th birthday this March with diamonds (oh crap she reads this blog there goes that idea. I will need to think of another idea now.), meeting more famous people, how I was tied to a chair in 2nd grade, tripling my readership, a post about how the Official Poop and Boogies Facebook Fanclub (thanks Alisha) membership gets to the 150 mark, the story of my allergy to a tattoo, a post about taking MY mom to a book signing, a Bigfoot sighting, working with more advertisers, a road trip story would be great, William turns 40, more I Could Have Been a Contender stories, taking my mom to get a tattoo, How Edamame is overrated, my one day as a substitute Sunday School teacher, how I got a book deal, my college years (I did not go to college) stories, living in my car, and how I won blog awards.

I hope I can be funnier, more positive, and a better writer this year.

Some of the writings I listed above are events that have yet to happen. Some are stories from my past. There is an old saying that goes something like "If you travel the road to the past it is often littered with missed opportunities. Be careful you don't trip over them."

What I plan to do this year is explore that road to the past and pick up those pieces of "litter" and save them in the garage, (just like my wife saves pieces of moulding and chair rails and old mirrors or scraps of fabric, "because you just never know when you can use them"). Every now and then I will pull one out polish it and make a post out of it.

Please leave me a comment and let me know if there is anything you want to see here on Poop and Boogies. Or tell me whether you plan to call this year Twenty-ten, or Two Thousand-Ten or Two-Zero-One Zero.

Thursday is de-lurking day (brought to you, for me, by Rudecactus and Greeblemonkey), which means you are supposed to leave a comment. De-lurk, leave a comment.

Chest Thumping

I told almost everybody that I knew that I was going to make some built-in bookshelves in our living room. I told my brother Jim I was going to build book shelves to rival the ones he did in his house. I told my brother Dan I was going to craft an impressive set of shelves that would make him and his expert do-it-yourself-Mr.-fix-it attitude proud. I told my neighbor, Mr. Jones, that I was going to build a book case and that I may need to borrow his manly saw that he uses on all of his awesome projects.

I told everyone I was going to build a built-in book shelf unit. I may have even thumped my chest a few times.

I told Lauren I would have the dining room (completed around 12/16)and the living room finished with their re-dos by Christmas. The Saturday before, 6 days prior to the deadline, I was ready to start the final phase of the living room. I was going to build book shelves (thump thump thump). Lauren was going to keep the kids occupied, I was going to spend the whole weekend sawing, cutting, hammering, painting and screw gunning (thump thump).

Earlier in the week Lauren and I spent an hour hand selecting the planks of finished pine, furring strips and trim. We purchased just enough to complete the design Lauren had wanted. My first order of business was to go to Mr. Jones' and use his saw. He helped me cut the 8 foot pieces of pine to the desired height I would need for the wall sides. We talked about the project and my ideas for framing the 12 inch wide shelves. He nodded in approval and told me to come back if I needed any more precision cuts. I thanked Mr. Jones and hoisted the cut planks on my shoulder and walked back to my house (thump thump).

At home I used my table top mitre saw to cut the furring strips, used for support, down to the size of the shelves. I cut two 6 foot furring strip boards into eight inch pieces (thump thump). As I started to assemble the frame of the shelves Lauren popped her head into living room.

"What are you doing?' she asked.

"Framing the shelves."

"Why are the furring strips so small?"

"I decided to cut them like this so it will support the shelf."

"Yes. But the shelf is 12 inches wide." She pointed out.

"Yeah. So?"

"You cut the strips to 8 inches. The strip is supposed to support the entire width of the shelf. Besides we bought just enough wood to do the project the way we discussed."

"Yes, but by cutting it shorter I saved on the wood." I said with confidence, throwing some basic but semi-fake math in her face.

"Yes, but by cutting it shorter we now will have a bunch of smaller pieces for the back support, instead of one piece that goes all the way across." She said with confidence throwing real math and geometry back in my face.

"So?" Was the only response I could muster.

"So?" Lauren asked. "It will look stupid." She answered herself.

"It won't look stupid. Who is going to notice?"

"I will."

I gave her a dirty look.

Lauren changed to a softer tone. "Listen Bill, maybe I should take over this project."

"What?"

"I just know that I could do a better job." Lauren said without any inclination she was going to thump her chest.

"What?" I repeated. I was offended.

"I am going to finish this job." She said.

"Look I made a mistake. It is no big deal. I can do this."

"No. I think it would be better if I did it."

I was hurt. "Fine. They didn't cover this when I went to carpenter college. Oh that's right, I didn't go to fucking carpenter college. "

"Neither did I Bill." Lauren snapped back. "But I know how to measure and cut."

She had a point.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

I packed up the kids and spent the rest of the day, the weekend really, taking care of them. There would be no more macho chest thumping that weekend. Before.

During.

During.

After.
It took me a couple of days to nurse my bruised ego. Now I have to tell everyone that, not I, but my wife, built the book shelves.

I love my wife. She can build killer book shelves. I am proud of her (thump thump).

Staining: A Tutorial

When trying to stain a desktop/countertop you need to make sure you have the proper materials; a brush, a bunch of rags, rubber gloves (Do you own rubber gloves? I lease with an an option to buy.) a can of stain with a cool sounding name like Brazillian Rosewood with a pretty picture on the front that matches what you want your desk to look like, and paint thinner or mineral spirits; spirit being the key word here.

Step 1:Wait for the coldest night of the year to work in your garage. Step 2: Cover the wood (heh heh) with liberal amounts of stain. Step 3: Wait 15 minutes. Step 4:Wipe off excess stain. Repeat steps 2 thru 4 for a darker look.

Clean up and go to bed.

The next morning you need to show your wife the stained boards. She will most likley say that the cool sounding color that you picked out does not look like it does on the can.

Step 5: go to Lowes and pick up a darker stain.

Using Darker stain repeat Steps 1 thru 4. But this time make sure you pick up some paint thinner for yourself. This will help battle the chill in the garage. I prefer my paint thinner of the Canadian blended or rye variety. On the rocks.


Note in the above picture the board has been already stained with a cool sounding name type of stain that was not dark enough.


Step 1: Wait for coldest night to work in garage. Step 2: Cover the board in liberal amounts of stain. Step 3: Wait fifteen to twenty minutes. Step 3(A): this is where having paint thinner for yourself comes in handy. Drink liberal amounts.

Step 4: Wipe off excess stain, only to be surprised that the board does not look that much darker than when you started. Step 4(A) This is another moment where the paint thinner comes in handy. Empty contents of glass. This is the perfect time to replenish the paint thinner and add more ice.

Repeating steps 2 thru 4 to try and get darker look. Making sure to pay particular attention to Step 3(A) and Step 4 (A). Step 1 does not need repeating because if the paint thinner has been used correctly, the temperature of the garage does not matter at this time.

After Step 4 you should notice that again the wood looks almost exactly the same as when you started. Repeat Step 4(A). Now repeat steps 2 thru 4 two more times. After the fourth try and fourth glass of thinner, look at the board and say "Fuck it, it will do."

My Mother In Law's Favorite Blog

My mother-in-law reads two blogs; Poop and Boogies and The Pioneer Woman. Guess which one is her favorite. No seriously guess. Go ahead guess.

When I found out that my mother in law's favorite blogger was going to be signing her new book, The Pioneer Woman Cooks, in the Philadelphia area, I thought it would be a great idea to take my mother-in-law to meet her. I, too, am a fan of Ree Drummond and her blog and I was excited by the opportunity to meet her. I was also excited that there would be a chance that other local Philly bloggers would be there and I may also get a chance to meet them.

Sunday, the day of the book signing, was busy day in our house. Not only are we still working on begatting our living room and dining room, but I also bought our Christmas tree that morning and promised the kids that they could decorate it and decorate the house while I was gone with Mom Mom. I left a lot on Lauren's plate for the day when I left at noon to pick up my MIL.

We arrived at the book store around 1:15 which was an hour and fifteen minutes early. The number we received for our place in line was # 123. Holy cow does the Pioneer Woman have a lot of fans. I purchased our copies of the book and we found some seats where the signing would be held (this is the same place I met Brad Meltzer). I kept rubber necking the room trying to see if I recognized any other bloggers. Which I didn't.

A few minutes later Sue and Charlotte, other bloggers that I know, which Lauren refers to as my "pretend friends" (which I think means that she means that Sue and Charlotte pretend to be my friend) arrived. I have "known" Sue and Charlotte for 4 years now and I have only met them one other time. I was very happy to see them. I gave them my official Poop and Boogies business cards, I use when I meet other bloggers. We chatted and laughed while waiting for Ree Drummond to make her appearance. Charlotte and Sue are two of the nicest people. Both genuine and sincere and funny as hell. Hanging out with them felt like I was hanging out with friends I have known for 20 years.

At one point during our conversation I spotted Bossy, from Iambossy. I am a fan of her blog as well. I yelled out to her. She looked my way and continued walking. I thought maybe that she was "big timing" me, but after thinking about it, maybe I scared her. She does not know me or my blog really. I mean if I saw me calling my name from across a room I might be scared as well. A few minutes later she did come over to me, I introduced myself, she was nice.

The Pioneer Woman showed up on time and took questions from the audience. She was very funny and she seems very genuine. I like genuine. I like funny. My mother in law seemed to enjoy her as well. The book store staff started lining up people in groups of twenty for the signing. While we waited I hung out with Charlotte, Sue, my MIL, and Karen who was the woman who sat next to my MIL. (Hi Karen)

We waited. We waited some more. I kept checking the clock on my cell. It was getting later and later. I kept thinking of Lauren at home with the boys decorating the tree without me. I kept thinking of how the boys were probably beating each other up over who got to hang what ornament. I kept picturing Jackson eating pine needles and ornament hooks. I imagined the cat knocking over the tree. I pictured Lauren at her wit's end. I felt bad. Finally at 5PM, I asked my MIL how she felt about leaving without meeting PW. She was fine with it. I on the other hand was disappointed. I wanted the opportunity to tell PW how much I appreciated her work. I wanted to tell her I have been following her from the early days back in 'aught six. I wanted to tell her I was excited for her and her success. I also wanted to hand her one of my Poop and Boogies business cards. But I knew I really should get home. We decided to leave.

I gave our number in line, #123, to Sue and Charlotte (their number was like #175 or something) and told them I was leaving. It then dawned on me that maybe they could get my book signed, which they agreed to do. They also volunteered to have my MIL's book signed. Charlotte also said she would give the Pioneer Woman my business card, which made me happy. They even took a picture. Very cool.


When I got home around 6PM, I told Lauren what happened. She felt bad and asked if I felt like I wasted my time for the past 6 hours. Here I drove 45 minutes in each direction, waited around for a few hours for a chance to meet someone that truly respect and admire, only to leave without meeting her and without a book. My answer was simple.

"No. I got to hang out with Sue, Charlotte and your mom. It was fun. I hope Charlotte and Sue don't steal the books. Then I won't have a Christmas gift for your mom."


By the way, Pioneer Woman Cooks is # 2 on the NY Times Best Seller List. My guess is, next week , with the P&B bump, she will be #1.

Daniel-san

A few months ago Lauren asked me if we could re-do the living room and re-do the dining room by Christmas. A few months ago I said, "Sure. No problem."

Since that time I have done very little to get it done. It just so happened that I had some vacation time that I needed to use before the end of the year. I took this week off to finish the two rooms and maybe spend some time with the kids doing holiday stuff.
The dining room required some wallpaper removal. Vinyl wallpaper. With the special two-ply cloth backing invented by the famous designer Ugotta Befuckingkiddingme. Basically I had to remove the wallpaper twice. First I had to take down the vinyl. I then had to spray and scrape a second layer of paper.
When Ugotta first designed her wallpaper she hired a chemist to make sure the glue used on her special wallpaper would work well. She hired Ike Antbelievethisshit who created the world's toughest glue. I had to use a razor scraper to remove the top layer of glue and then I had to use a special scrub brush to take away any residue.

The repetitive motion of the razor scraper and the scrub brush reminded me of the various "training" scenes in the Karate Kid movie. Instead of "wax on" and "paint the fence" I kept uttering to myself "Razor scrape up, scrub the wall down. Razor scrape up, scrub the wall down." Removing the glue took me the better part of a day and now my arms are like Jello.
The razor scraper and shaky hands caused all kinds of divots in the wall which begat me having to Spackle and sand the walls. What I thought was going to be a one, maybe, two day project has already put a big dent into my vacation. I hope to start painting by day three.

The good thing to come out of this home improvement is I now can defend myself against anyone who tries to punch at me three feet above my head. "Razor scrape up. Hai."

If you are looking for cool ideas for home improvement projects check out Genuine Style by Direct Buy.

Patio

Lauren and I were married in the summer of 2002. We bought our first house that fall. The house was a fixer-upper (which when said has the same syllables and cadence as mother-f@%ker). Our first anniversary we decided that instead of doing something/getting gifts, we would build a brick paver-patio off the back of our house. We figured we would get years of use out of a patio, grilling and hosting parties and having fun that it would be worth giving up any type of vacation/anniversary gift. To keep costs down we decided we would do the work ourselves.

The weekend before our anniversary/vacation my friend Bob helped me dig out the 17 by 10 foot area that would become our back patio. I am not a rocket surgeon and Bob (although very smart) is not a brain scientist. It took us the better part of the weekend to figure out how to level the ground that was on a 20 degree pitch.

That Monday, July 14th, was the start of my vacation. I had a few palettes of brick pavers, a few yards of sand and five cubic yards of modified stone (gravel) delivered to my house. All three components of the patio sat on a driveway which I shared with our neighbor. I was determined to have the driveway cleared that day so my neighbors could park their car. Monday July 14th I set out at 8:30 am to clear the driveway. Anyone who has done a paver patio knows that you need to fill the area with modified stone, tamp it down, add sand and then put the bricks into place. Let me tell you, moving five cubic yards of stone, by shovel and wheel barrow, is an incredibly difficult physical feat for a person who is not used to doing that kind of labor.

By 1PM, that Monday afternoon Lauren found me, whimpering, curled up in a semi-fetal position against the garage. She asked me what was wrong and if she could help. A week before we had just found out she was pregnant and I did not want her to exert herself, so of course I said no. She did help with building the patio but all the heavy lifting was done by me. My bones and muscles ached. I was covered in sweat and dirt. My hands were covered in blisters. The mini mountain of five cubic yards of modified stone, that I spent 5 hours moving, still looked like four and half cubic yards on my driveway. I was dehydrated and tired. I felt defeated and I may have started to cry. Lauren said she would get me a sandwich and beer.

When I finished my lunch I set out to finish the project. By that Friday the 18th of July I was done. It was the single most difficult home improvement task I have ever tried. I promised myself I would never do a paver project again. We only got to enjoy the patio for one full summer because the very next year we moved to Florida. I never got a chance to fully appreciate the hard labor, sweat and tears that were put into that project.

A few years, and two houses, later we moved into our current home that needed some serious work on the back patio. The screened-in porch was all rotted and falling apart. The posts that supported the roof were water damaged and rotting. From a safety standpoint we needed to fix it. The concrete slab was uneven and cracked from years of settling. It seemed kind of silly to build a new patio just as we go into winter but it needed to get done before the ground froze. Lauren and I weighed all of the possibilities of doing it ourselves. I started to have flashbacks to the last time we worked on a patio. Tears may have formed in the corner of my eyes and I may have started to involuntarily twitch. I remembered my promise to myself.

Long story short, we hired my brother's neighbor Mike. It took Mike about a week to do the whole thing. He knocked out the old porch, replaced the support posts and did a paver patio. Mike did an excellent job. If you live in the Philly suburbs and are looking to get a patio done, email me and I will get you his number.

The best part of Mike's work is that he did not cry once.

Neither did I.

Jealous

Lauren and I (mostly Lauren) are in the middle of Begatting our living room. We (she) are doing it in stages. We tore up the carpet to find beautiful hardwood floors which begat taking out the old base molding which will begat adding new molding etc, etc. We hope to make some "built-in" bookshelves and create a new computer/office space.

In preparation for the project the whole family went to Lowe's to pick up supplies. The first ten or so minutes went well until the kids started getting antsy. Lauren and I agreed that I would find ways to entertain the kids while she finished the shopping. The kids became even more rambunctious. Max wanted to ride in the cart which begat Wyatt wanting to ride in the cart. There was not enough room for both so I told Max he had to walk which begat him crying and having a temper tantrum which begat Wyatt having an attitude and causing both kids to argue with each other which begat me to become extremely agitated.

I decided to take the kids to see the Christmas decorations in Lowe's (yep Christmas decorations in early October) hoping that that would make everyone happy. As we passed the paint aisle I saw Lauren at the other end talking to the Paint Guy. He was all smiley and flirty with Lauren. I called down to Lauren to let he know I was going to the decorations. It took me five or six tries to get her attention. When she finally looked up I told her where to meet us in the store.

The Christmas decorations turned out to put everyone in a worse mood because Max told me he wanted the new Geo-Trax Timbertown Railway for Christmas which begat Wyatt saying he wanted the new Geo-Trax Timbertown Railway, which begat Max telling Wyatt he could not ask for the same thing, which begat a battle of "yes-I-can-No-you-can't". Anyone familiar with YIC-NYC battle knows that the volume gradually increases 10 decibels with each volley. When the kids hit about 120 dB I had had enough and hurried them to the front door where Lauren was finished making her purchases and we left.

Both kids were upset that we did not see all of the decorations and they started to whine and cry. Lauren and I did our best to ignore them as we drove away. Lauren could tell my nerves were shot. She had to raise her voice over the volume of the crying in the back of the mini-van to ask me what happened

While you were flirting with the Paint Guy, these two" I said pointing to the back seat and loud enough for her to hear me, "decided to throw fits.

I then announced that because of their behavior we were going home and not to the toy store like we originally planned. The boys cried louder. We tried to ignore them.

"I was not flirting with the Paint Guy." Lauren yelled back over the noise of the boys. She rolled her eyes

"Well he was flirting with you." I hollered back

"No he wasn't"

"Yes he was. With his short sleeved maroon apron showing off his tatooed bi-ceps. He was flirting

"Oh my gosh." Lauren yelled tyring to over power the sound of the crying. "I can't believe you are jealous of the Paint Guy

"I am." I shouted back.

"You are? Really? " Lauren asked.

"Yes. I am jealous that he is back in the store and I am sitting here listening to these kids screaming."

Workshop

The first Saturday of every month Home Depot offers a free "Kids How-To Workshop". Home Depot provides hammers, nails, official Home Depot aprons (the kids get to keep them) glue and a kit for the kids to build. Their slogan is "Build. Learn. Create." I have taken Maxfield and Wyatt to these workshops (and the ones at Lowes) in the past and we usually have a good time. We have built bird houses, trucks, pirate ships and other wooden type stuff.

We have not attended a how-to clinic in quite a while and Lauren suggested that I take the kids this past Saturday, which I did. The workshop, which has seating for 16-20, people was quite busy on Saturday. When we arrived there was already a 10 minute wait for available space at the work table and a line, of about 8 other kids, formed behind Max and Wyatt.

The build-it-yourself kit this week was a bean bag game thing. The kit came with 5 pieces of wood, 2 bean bags, 10 short nails and 4 long nails. The instructions did not look too complicated. The way I usually handle these workshop kit things is that I get Max started on his project and then I build Wyatt's to a couple of steps past Max's so if questions come up I can be ready to answer them. I got Max started on the first nail and I began to build Wyatt's.

Max was ready for step two and asked me for help. Since I was already on step three, I set up Max's nails for his step two and I continued tinkering with Wyatt's. I tinkered and tinkered. I could not get step three to work right. I looked at the instructions over and over and the pieces of wood for step three would not fit. I looked at all the other parents and their kids and they all were doing fine. I tried to get a closer look at the project of the little girl sitting closest to us but I felt like I was cheating on a test. I think she even tried to shield her assembly with her elbow and forearm and she gave me the evil eye. I started to break a sweat.

Max was done his step two and asked me to help him with step three. It was right then I realized that I put step two together the wrong way. I confused the "right leg" with the "left leg"and although they were identical pieces of wood, it totally made a difference in the assembly. I took the claw of the hammer and I removed the long nails from the "right leg" as well as a chunk of flesh from my thumb. I started to bleed. Not just a little bit, but alot. It was one of those cuts that looks worse than it is because it would not stop trickling blood.

I quickly hammered Wyatt's pieces back together and I explained to Max that his step two was wrong and that I needed to pull it apart so he could do it the right way. He got mad and asked that I not bleed on his bean bag game. I clawed Max's pieces and hammered them back. I got wood glue all over my hands in the process. We all moved to step three together, which again, I could not figure out.

I looked at the instructions and then at the wood pieces in front of me. The instructions, the wood pieces. The instructions, the wood pieces. I shook my head and sighed. I put step two together wrong again. I put the pieces right back the way I had them. I took them all apart, again, while Max and Wyatt protested. I added more glue and I hammered the pieces together. I bent one of the long nails in Wyatt's game and I dropped two nails on the floor, they rolled out of reach under the table. I was very frustrated. People who were behind us in line at the start of the workshop were finished their projects and were heading out the door.

I studied the instructions again as I sucked on the cut on my thumb to prevent the blood from dripping on the table. I got a mouthful of wood glue. I started to work on step three when I could feel my face get flush and my ears burn, I could feel anger rising from my chest.

"Son of a...." I swallowed the last word. "I can't believe it."

I put the pieces back together the exact same way I did the first few times. Wrong.

I could not believe I made the same mistake, not once, not twice, not three, but four fa-ricking times.

I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. I have gutted rooms, dry-walled cielings, re-done kitchens and bathrooms, I even have put together many pieces of Ikea furniture and never had this many problems. What the hell was wrong with me and this simple little game? I was beside myself. Flustered.

Then it hit me. I was holding back due to the room full of children. My mental block, my problem with this do-it-yourself clinic was the fact that I was unable to curse when I messed up.

My DIY motto has always been "Build. Curse. Learn."

Bathroom Begats

We started the re-do of our bathroom in October of 07. At that time we only fixed and completed the bath and shower side of the bathroom. A year later (December of 08) we finally got around to fixing the toilet and sink side of the project.

The above picture is the before picture. Friday December 26th I did the demo work to get the area prepared for the next morning. I had a plumber friend coming over early Saturday morning to to help with the pipes.

We took apart the old sink and cabinet and prepped the area for the new sink and cabinet. Lauren who was two weeks shy of giving birth to Jackson came in and did the Beadboard work.

We were on such a roll that the Beadboard and sink were installed by 2pm on Saturday. Why 2 PM? I think Lauren held us back a a little. She was perfectionist with her Beadboard and anytime she entered the small bathroom with her big belly I would have to step out so she could maneuver around. Otherwise I think we would have been done around noon.

Sunday morning December 28th was a glorious day. It was sunny and crisp outside. The kids were still on a high from their Christmas. Lauren was glowing and felt great. I was feeling good about completing that bathroom. The Philadelphia Eagles had a game that day against the Dallas Cowboys at 4pm. If the Eagles won (and other teams lost and won etc etc) then the Eagles would be going to the playoffs. I think I would lose some of my Eagles Fan credentials if I don't add this statement at this time: Cowboys suck. Anyway, I was excited to finish the bathroom and watch the game that evening.

Sunday Morning at 10 AM I called my brother Dan to ask his opinion on which type of molly bolt I should use. I told him I was going to be replacing my vanity/medicine cabinet/ light fixture. We chatted for a few minutes and then I went to Lowes to buy his recommended bolts. It was a beautiful day. There was no line at Lowes and everyone was friendly and helpful. I returned with the bolts and a few other needs and I quickly went to work. I explained to Lauren and the kids that I needed to turn off the circuit breaker for the bathroom which also included the entire upstairs. While I worked on replacing the vanity/medicine cabinet/light fixture they would not have Internet service or television since the routers and main cable box came into the house through the upstairs. Lauren quietly occupied the boys with their toys and everything was good.

Taking down the old fixture was a breeze. I used the molly bolts and prepped the wall for the new fixture and cabinet. I hung the new light. I connected black wire to black wire white wire to white wire and green wire to the electrical ground screw. At the rate I was going I was going to be done this entire project by 3 PM. It was a good day. I went down to the garage and turned on the breaker.

It is right after the above picture was taken when I started cursing mothers and asking God to send everything to hell. Every other word or phrase out my mouth was "Son of a bitch." or "God Dammit." The new light fixture would not go on. I double checked my work, the breaker and the switch. Everything was connected the right way. I must have bought a defective fixture.

I went into my bedroom to check to see if I had the receipt so I could return it to the store. I flipped on the light only to find that my bedroom lights did not work. In a slow motion panic I checked all the lights in all the bedrooms. None of them worked. The entire upstairs had no electricity. It was at this time that I started to utter every combination and variation of the word "Fuck".

After checking and rechecking and rechecking and rechecking my work I could not fathom why the entire upstairs had no power. I asked my neighbor for help and he came over and double checked my work. Two hours later and multiple trips to Lowes, replacing breakers and light switches I still did not have power. I called my brother Dan to get his opinion. His opinion was that I was screwed. I called my brother Dennis who knows more about electricity than anyone else I know. He told me he was going to be watching the Eagles game but he could hear the desperation my voice and I may have pulled the "Lauren is pregnant and could go at anytime card.". He came over at 3 PM.

Dennis double checked all my work with all his electrical gadgets. The light fixture was fine and my wiring was fine. He too could not understand why the power was out. At 5 PM we took a break from scratching our heads and had dinner. I checked my Blackberry and updated him on the Eagles game. Everything fell into place for the team and if the Eagles won they would be in the playoffs. I had no TV to watch.

At 6 PM we went back to work. It was starting to get dark outside and we had to hurry so we could still work by the light coming in from the window. We dismantled everything and started over. Black wire to black, white to white and green to ground. I am not sure what caused me to accidentally touch the green wire to the white wire but when I did the light flickered. Dennis gave me the "what in the hell was that" look. He used another electrical testing gadget and we found out that the green wire was also a hot live wire. This same green wire, which is supposed to ground out the circuit, was actually the wire that completed the circuit for the entire upstairs. We fixed the problem and I had power and lights just as the Eagles won the game. We missed the entire game.

Re-doing the bathroom, begat a new light fixture, which begat new light switches, which begat new breakers, which begat new wires, which begat new combination of many curse words. But in the end it all worked out.

Dennis deduced that electricians in the 1960s, who did the original wiring for the house got lazy when it came to the bathroom light and switch. Apparently all the power for the second floor of my house goes through my bathroom.

Now, every time I flush my toilet I am afraid that the lights will flicker.