Like Picasso, But With Sausage Toes

Whoo, boy, am I in a mood today.

Of course, there's no real reason for it, other than for some relentlessly annoying Facebook posts I read this morning, coupled with a heavy dose of pregnancy hormones and a lack of proper caffeinated beverages.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. Your baby is adorable. Your life is awesome. The song lyrics you just posted indicate that you are incredibly deep, and the quote about knowing who your REAL friends are suggests that you IN NO WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM invite drama into your life.
Marvelous.
Do us all a favor and die.

(Well, I warned you I was in a mood....)

What I need to do is just stop reading facebook without a strong coffee/prozac cocktail. Or maybe stop reading it all together, but then what would I DO with myself all day, other than watch TV marathons of The Millionaire Matchmaker and practice my knitting. Oops, I mean work.
Riiiiiiight.

So anyway...
I've been painting the nursery.
Which doesn't sound particularly exciting, except for the fact that I got overambitious this summer and decided to do a mural of Where The Wild Things Are on the walls. Mostly because I've always wanted to paint a mural, but also because painting the walls is way cheaper than buying crap to decorate a nursery, and this girl is about as cheap as a pair of Lucite platform sandals these days.

Now, I'm not going to show you the whole thing (because it isn't done yet, and my time machine is currently on the fritz), but I'll give you a sneak peak.

Here ya go...

Isn't it awesome?
I think I really captured the pain of being a Wild Thing in that chicken-turned-pedifile's eyes.

pppppffffftttttttt....BWAHAHAHAHAH
Okay, I'm kidding.
I didn't paint this mural - I found it when I was doing a Google search.

It turns out some teacher named Miss Renee painted this mural in her school. And I'm not saying it's bad, but personally, if I made a cake, and it fell in the middle, and then it crumbled and the crumbs got all in the icing, which turned out to be the most hideous shade of green, and then I dropped it on the floor, and then I picked it up and it had cat hair all over it, and then a hobo walked by and dropped a deuce on it, I PROBABLY wouldn't post that shit all over the interwebz. MAYBE I'd just admit that, although I'm most likely a lovely person, I'm not that really good at baking, and should spend my time on other hobbies.

Possibly.

Just sayin'.

But this picture was kind of my worst nightmare. Because I've never done a mural before, and I didn't know if I could pull it off, and I'd feel just awful if my hot mess of a mural ended up scarring my kids for life (as Miss Renee's kids undoubtedly are. Sorry Miss Renee, but your mural is the thing nightmares are made of).

But, as it turns out, I'm not half bad at it.

Here's a sneak peak (sorry about the poor quality pic and lighting - it's darker than Ann Coulter's soul in that bedroom):



Anyhoodle, it's going well.

But painting while pregnant, I've discovered, has its own challenges.
Like, for example, when your belly gets in the way and literally knocks a paint can over. Or, when you're trying to paint these tiny, exact lines, so you hold your breath to keep the paint brush steady, and you end up almost passing out because you're only getting 60% of the oxygen you're supposed to be getting on a good day.

And the sausage toes.
OH, THE SAUSAGE TOES.

Apparently my blood stopped flowing sometime around Easter. So when I stand for a long period of time (meaning 5 minutes or more), all the blood pools in my feet. Not only does that cause me to sometimes pass out (which I've discussed previously and is a TOTALLY AWESOME way to get to know your cashier better), but it also causes swelling of the feet and ankles.

Painting a mural = standing for a hella long time = sausage toes of epic proportions.

So that sucks.
(BTW, did anyone else notice my font just changed for no reason?!?! WTF is up with that?!?! Google Booger, EXPLAIN YOURSELF!!)

And then I get all tired and achy, and I have to go lie down to "recover" from painting for a whopping 25 minutes.
Needless to say, it's going slowly.

But I'm happy with the way its going. Plus it's keeping me busy, which is GREAT for Brian, because it means I leave him alone to play his video games. Whoops, I mean brew beer. Whoops, I mean work on the house.

And of course, it soothes my GO NEST, MOTHER F*CKER urges. Which are huge (and foul mouthed), and cause me to make lists and show them to Brian to prove that WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME and HOLY SHIT WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO?? and I SUDDENLY REALIZED WE HAVE COBWEBS EVERYWHERE - HOW DID THEY GET THERE - DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!!!!!!

(yeah, I'm a real picnic these days)

So that's whats been crack-a-lackin' this weekend.
True, it's not as exciting as when I used to spend my weekends mountain biking (and subsequently face-planting into dried up river-beds), but when your activities are limited to all things sedentary, painting a mural makes for a pretty wild time.

And speaking of wild times - I'd better wrap things up here and start my day.
Work is calling, and somewhere, someone has posted a snarky political status update that I have to internally rage about for a few hours, before leaving a sarcastic comment and swearing off Facebook forever for the next 10 minutes.