If you want to move a chair...

I've been working on my living room lately. You know - reorganizing, rearranging, decorating, thinking about paint and furniture and what I want on the walls and on the mantle. It's been a lot more consuming than I would have thought, but I'm loving the changes.

One change I've decided I want to try is to move a certain brown chair from the living room where it works just fine upstairs to the loft where we need more seating and it would be more useful. But in order to move the chair upstairs, there were a few things that had to happen first.

Before I moved the chair, I had to clean the loft and the living room.

Before I could clean the loft or the living room, I had to move some extra stuff out of the living room.

Before I moved that extra stuff, I had to finish some projects.

Before I finished the projects, I had to work on school planning.

Before I worked on school planning, I had to organize a bunch of school stuff.

(It was like "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" backwards.)

So I got all the school papers organized into their proper binders and put away.

Then I knew what needed to come next in the girls' lessons, so I got some lesson planning done and their work ready for the coming week.

Then I had some free time to work on my projects and got my crocheting and my sewing done.

Once those projects were done, I could move the craft table and stool out of the living room and back into the craft room and I put the crochet projects in a box to mail to my nephews.

Now that the extra stuff was out of the way, I can finish the laundry today and finally clean my living room and my loft. Ok, that will probably have to be finished tomorrow.

And only then can I move my chair upstairs and see if it works in our loft.

All that reminds me of a funny thing that happened this week. When I was finishing up my sewing, L brought her worksheet to the craft table telling me that she was supposed to draw a picture of her mom or dad working, like as a waitress or a doctor or fireman or something. I explained that she needed to draw us doing our real jobs, like Daddy working on his computer or me doing one of the many jobs I do - driving, cleaning, teaching, sewing, etc. She looked at me in extreme disappointment and announced, "I wish you were a waitress." Sheesh! Even my own daughter doesn't think I have a real job.

She ended up drawing me sewing and here's what I was working on.


The other project I finished was making was these little rectangle monsters for my nephews. The youngest's birthday is tomorrow and I thought all the boys might like getting a box in the mail and pulling out these little guys.