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My ad network emailed me today to let me know that they were pulling my ads because it had been too long since I updated. I have the feeling that the fact that whoever is assigned to check my blog for the ad network is the only person who has noticed that I have not been posting is probably a good sign that it is time to throw in this particular towel, but I guess I'm not quite ready to go there. (And the ad network did generously offer to allow me to continue advertising their content for free, which I felt was extremely magnanimous.)

I'm not going to blog about blogging, it just seems that these days whenever I have the inclination I don't have the time and whenever I have the time I don't have the inclination. I do, however, have two handy life tips that I feel obliged to share, so here we go.

Tip 1: Do not ever move a piano by yourself. Tip 1 Addendum 1: Do not ever move a piano, a credenza (you people want me to call it a buffet, I don't want to call it a buffet, we are going to continue to call it a credenza), and a play kitchen by yourself. You see, I decided over the weekend that I wanted to move the piano out of the playroom and into the dining room and the play kitchen out of the dining room and into the playroom. I didn't especially want the piano in the dining room, but for the three times a year I use the dining room for guests I did want the option of it being toy-free. Chris and I were going to do it after the kids were in bed on Saturday, but then we spent all of Saturday sorting, organizing, and putting away every damn toy in the house, and we just weren't in the mood. Then on Sunday I felt like hell, so we didn't do it. So then this morning both kids had a low fever that meant we were staying home all day and I decided fuck it, I'm moving the piano. Which I did. It is a spinet (basically a short upright) and is heavy and would not have been that hard to move except that one of the wheels is broken and gouges the everloving heck out of the wood floors so I had to put down a series of rugs and push the piano onto and over each of those rugs and down the hall and into the dining room and then turn it 180 degrees to get it where the credenza was. The credenza went where the kitchen was and the kitchen went where the piano was. I like the playroom 500 times better (I also replaced the rug in there with a much smaller $60 job from Target) and the dining room 23 times better and as soon as I finish typing I am going to call my local hospital to reserve a room with full traction. Never move a piano by yourself, people. The only benefit is that I got to hear Chris call me insane (entirely true, I do this sort of thing a lot) and also did not have to have the series of arguments that would inevitable have ensued had Chris and I tried to move the piano together.

Tip 2: If you are ever driving through Virginia and happen to be passing Williamsburg, do not, for any reason, get off the highway. I don't care if you are hungry, dying to pee, or desperate for gas. Hell, I don't care if you spring a sudden, gushing leak from your carotid artery, don't stop. Stop a town before, stop a town after, but if you stop in Williamsburg you will not be able to find what you are looking for, then you will get lost, then you will finally find what you are looking for and finally make it back onto the highway an hour and a half later to find that you have managed to backtrack 15 miles and have to make it past the Williamsburg vortex yet again before achieving the safety of the other side. You have been warned.

Bonus Mommyblogger Moment: I just signed Mia up for the neighborhood swim team, which means two months of five-times-a-week practice and twice-a-week meets. Here begineth my servitude to the suburban youth sports cabal.

Double Bonus Question of the Day:
Do you have a sure-let's-move-heavy-furniture-together relationship, or a I'll-just-move-the-damn-piano-myself-because-at-least-then-I-don't-have-to-argue-about-it relationship?

Comments (25)

I'm some what of a fire cracker and have a 'Let's get things done NOW!" peronsality. Actually, I must revise. I'm lazy and I procrastinate, but when I thnk the couch needs to move, it needs to move. Help me, or get out of the way.

I have an I'll-move-the-heavy-furniture-all-by-myself attitude because if I had to wait on someone to help me, it'd never get done. Naturally, when I decide that I want it done, I also realize that I want it done yesterday (and nobody is EVER available for yesterday).

Last week, I moved all of the bedroom furniture (and let me tell you, friend - that bed has never been moved and now I know why. It's heavy as a motherfucker) only to discover that it looked awful and promptly moved it back. I was most proud of getting a treadmill out of a room when it required 2 grown men to get it in there. My secret weapon is those orange moving men sliders. (Shhh. Don't tell.)

I've been known to call my husband and tell him to come home from work in order to help me move heavy furniture, which actually translated into, "Come home from work, move this furniture that five minutes ago even I didn't know I wanted moved, and Oh-by-the-way bring along a minion to help because I'd rather stand to the side and tell you that you're doing it all wrong."

*ahem*

But yes, sometimes I'll do it myself.

I have the sure-let's-move-heavy-furniture-together relationship but I am sure it has everything to do with the "if momma ain't happy..." attitude that goes quite well with that relationship. ;-)

And can I just say I am glad you aren't quite ready to call it quits.

We have not yet hit that stage in our relationship where we've had to move heavy furniture, but I'm more of a, "I'm going to move it while I'm thinking about it and am feeling motivated to do it instead of waiting for you to get home/get motivated/remember to do it yourself" sort of person.

I'm part of the do it yourself or it won't get AND the I can't wait 20 minutes for someone to come home to help me crowd. That's also why I'm the fix-it person, the make it yourself person, and the person who gets power tools for her birthday (and likes it!) person.

I am definitely the "move the piano myself" person, because my husband procrastinates, and I like to get things DONE. I rearranged our living room furniture when I was 8 months pregnant because I was sick of waiting for him to help me with my crazy nesting urges. (To be a little fair to him, I think I waited, like, an hour. We're not talking days or weeks.) So, yeah. I get it.

I was about to email you to ask you if you were still among the living.

I am a move-it-myself person but several hundred dollars in therapy has taught me to ask first and wait 72 hours before I do it myself -- only this time more frustrated.

Swim team? I can't get Michael to put his face in the water.

I'm going to go be a sucky parent over here now.

I miss you when you don't post. I check often hoping for a new one. However, as you are a busy stay at home mom of two very busy kids - I assume you'll get back to it when you can. Just for the record . . .

I don't move things. Ever. I'm a "it's fine right there. Forever. If you move it and I stub my toe, I might have to kill you" type.

The phrase "suburban youth sports cabal" definitely cracked me up ;) And I'm single, so I do all my crazy moving urges by myself ;)

I missed you! And we just moved our piano last week so I can tell you that I'm neither a move-it-myself or move-it-together kind of girl. I'm a watch-from-the-sidelines-while-my-fiance-and-his-generous-friends-do-the-work kind.

And by the way, according to my piano repair guy, you shouldn't actually roll a piano on its little wheels for any distance. They're not made to withstand that kind of pressure and the threads holding them in the piano will eventually strip and then you will pay a piano repair guy to restore the wheel. You can rent piano moving dollies really cheaply - they slide under each end of the piano, you strap them together so the piano is secure, they ratchet the piano up off the floor and so then the piano is easily rolled around.

I'm one part I'll-just-move-the-damn-piano-myself-because-at-least-then-I-don't-have-to-argue-about-it, and two parts, Hum-I'm-bored-what-should-I-do-oh-maybe-the-bed-would-be-better-over-here-or-no-wait-maybe-here, with a dash of SURPRISE-I-painted-the-kitchen-during-naptime-Like-it?

And please don't stop blogging. That would be a major bummer and I would not like.

I can go one better...
I'm the sort of person who randomly buys furniture, shoves it in my little car, takes it home, sets it all up and then act like NOTHINGS HAPPENED when the other half gets come and is all... 'what the hell is that thing that wasn't here this morning?'
I get it from my mother. Totally awesome trait.
And if I want to move furniture, I'll figure out the most uncomfortable and impractical way to do it, until again, the other half sees me and takes over to shut me up.

I'm of the pounce on the spouse the minute he walks in the door and say Move it. Now. I have found if I leave things teetering or in the middle of the way it gets done in a more timely manner. So I partially move and then wait for my minions to carry out the rest.


Firstly - I noticed you hadn't been blogging and assumed you were away/busy - so don't stop.

Definitely a move it myself person - if I waited for DH to actually get home from work in daylight and be inclined to move stuff around I'd be a lot older. And also a take-the-tiles-off-the-wall-next-to-the-door-so-I-can-paint-the-doorframe-before-the-tiler-comes-even-though-he-really-didn't-want-me-to-kind-of-person. And a buy it, build it, fill it, pretend it isn't new person like Chatty Cricket!

And, d'you know what, looking at the people who comment on your blog - I think I am among friends!!!

definatly...the "I'll do it my damn self" relationship

I have short arms. My husband call them T-Rex arms. And they are my excuse for not moving heavy or large things, ever.

The actual reason I don't move heavy/large things - by myself or with assistance - is because I am a lazy, lazy sloth.

I noticed you had not been writing, since I check every. single. weekday.

I am the move it myself, because my lame ass spouse is so friggin ignorant, can't follow directions, and whines type of guy.

My proudest moment when my mom and I moved an entertainment center into a room my dh and dad swore could not be done. To this day (10year) we have not told them all we did was remove the hall closest to turn and then rehang.

I am so glad you are not stopping. You are my personall inspiration in mommyhood. (ahem, except my kids are older) So, I guess you are my conciensce tell me where all I f****ed up years ago and now this is the price I am paying.

Count me in as another one who checks often to see if you have an update, and would be disappointed if you actually stopped. (Really, no pressure!)

Mr. Pine and I argue about everything we try to do together, so I've learned over time, to ask him to do it and try to keep my mouth shut so as not to upset the man who is dragging large things through the house. But hey...try is the key word in that sentence. It doesn't always work.

Definitely the 'do it myself' option. Hubs thinks he's handy but gets impatient quickly, or doesn't read the directions and has to undo/redo stuff or has 'extra' bits at the end of a project. Sigh.

I noticed you were not here. I was displeased. Please do not give up. Please, please, please. I also move large items of furniture. I once moved a bookcase with all the books still in it because I was too lazy to take them out.

I missed you and noticed you were gone.

While I love the "charm" of Williamsburg and lived there for several years the traffic patterns do not make any sense. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I got lost.....and I LIVED there. I think it happens to everyone, if it doesn't they are lying.

I noticed you were gone & I missed you! I am generally a lurker but had to de-lurk to let you know that you were missed! Please don't throw in the towel!

Well, for us we are kind of in the let's-move-the-heavy-furniture-together relationship. As in I am more than willing to pitch in and help if we need to move something, but I am generally such a clutz that more often than not I get told to' please go stand over there before you do yourself a damage'. *ahem* but I am still willing to pitch in! :-D

Unless it is something really heavy though, I am not opposed to moving it (carefully) myself the second I realize that I want it moved. I am the 'do it now' sort. Hubby is the procrastinator.

We all noticed you were missing, we were just being respectful of your hot cabana boy time. In, uh, Williamsburg. Sorry, this comment fell apart before it ever got started.

Five days a week with swim practice? Are you kidding me with this crap? You are a stronger woman than I.

And we have a "leave everything where it is because we don't want to see the dust bunnies underneath it" relationship. If pressed, we move it together and then argue about it because it keeps the spark alive.

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So the Fish Said...

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