Remember When Wednesdays : Or ... not.

I wanted to sit down and write an entire post about the next chapter in our getting out of debt saga ... because I'm sure you've been waiting on pins and needles. Right? Right? Hello?

However ...

We are in the middle of a kitchen remodel. I am so proud of the work Officer Hottie is doing - he has made me a new laundry room (er...closet), a pantry, installed new countertops and removed a wall to name a few things. In six weeks. He's amazing. And completely stressed. 

Considering his truck literally caught on fire when he left work on Sunday ...
"Honey, I'm stopping by Lowe's on my way home to pick up the rest of the stuff we need!"
(Five minutes later)
"Honey, I need you to come pick me up because my truck is on fire. The FD is putting it out right now."
... I'm cutting him some slack. The man is allowed to be stressed.

In my attempt to help with his stress level I told him I would paint the ceilings (which still have the paint splotches from when I painted the living room walls last year ) and finish the tile backsplash. I know as much about this kind of work as...well, most women, I guess. I am having fun though and it feels good to actually help my husband with a project instead of folding laundry and offering him another cookie every three minutes.

So, between the car and the kitchen I haven't found time to sit down and write about our debt story. But I will. Because even if no one reads it, it is good for me to remember where we've come from, especially now that we are back down to one car and the prospect of spending another summer without a way to get the kids to the park and play dates is a little discouraging. It's time to buck up and practice what we preach...save save save!!

For those of you wanting to "see what happens next" I promise to get it out there soon. As soon as the ceilings are painted, the backsplash is tiled, the counter tops are sealed, the cabinets are painted and the last load of laundry has been folded and put away. Or something like that.

See how stressed these poor children are? See?

Seriously though, thank God for carboard boxes. Can I get an amen?