In Which We Do Not Have A Particularly Great Day

Well today was perhaps not the most fun day I've ever had in my entire life.

Connor slept in until almost 11:00 today, so while he was out I spent the morning taking the shelves down on the wall we're painting in the garage.  I thought it was only going to take me half an hour or so, but it ended up taking almost two because the fifteen screws were stripped on the eight foot long shelf closest to the ceiling.  I don't own a screw extractor either.  Balancing on a ladder and removing those was not nearly as fun as it sounds.

Once everything was down then it was time to clean the wall.  This wall was incredibly dirty.  At one point during the existence of the house there was apparently a wasp infestation, and apparently they'd made the mistake of trying to land on the deserted homes of the eight hundred generations of spiders that once lived there.  I thought there were a bunch of thumbtacks up near the ceiling, but instead it turned out to be the dead bodies of about twenty wasps (and one bumblebee) stuck to the wall with old cobwebs. 

Ew. 

After I did an initial sweep, I dust mopped and vacuumed and washed the whole thing and I would like to tell you that it made a huge difference.  It didn't.  The wall still looks terrible.  However, it's more the "that wall is really banged up and hasn't been painted for ten years" kind of terrible now and less the "that wall is really banged up and hasn't been cleaned for ten years" kind, which I guess is an improvement. 

I keep telling myself I'm going to have a craft room after I get all of this stuff out of the way.  But it's probably good I was doing this while Connor was asleep, because I'm pretty sure some of the language I was using during the whole unscrewing-shelves-and-dewasping-walls process was not appropriate for tender ears.

After that the little guy started making some "Hey I'm waking up now but I still don't feel so hot" sort of noises, so I stopped work in the garage for today.  He wasn't running a fever anymore but he still obviously felt lousy; I had to put his g-tube pump on really low because he kept trying to throw up.  He did okay for a couple of hours, and then he had an eight-minute long seizure and I had to use the Diastat and was literally picking up the phone to call the EMTs when he snapped out of it.  Then he went back to sleep and spent the next six hours or so completely conked out on my chest.   

So that was not the most fun day ever. 

~Jess