I have started this post a dozen times, erased what I've written, and then started again. Maybe if I knew three of three, instead of one out of three, boys were asleep in the room down the hall, my commitment level would be dialed up enough to share a reason I've pulled up Blogger and am now finishing what appears to be an awful start to a predictably messy blog post.
|Mom, don't run off this time.|
Last week I thought I would throw some paint on a few walls and share with you my progress. Then I would throw some paint on the same walls again, and, seeing a glorious completion, pat myself on the back which, in Ashleyspeak, looks a lot like making cookies, turning up dance music real loud, and smile shouting to babies and a 3 year old, "Can you believe how awesome your mommy is for painting the bathroom and laundry room?" to which they would have stared through me because not a care, Mom.
This is not how it has gone.
I screwed in new bronze brushed cabinet door handles last week and just moments after doing so and backing up to admire, insert jaw dropping, realized the laundry room cabinets weren't actually white. The other cabinets and drawers are white. These aren't even in the white category or family or spread or whatever people who actually know how to paint would say. This is more of a beige. A yellow-y beige. We'll call it yeige. A really loud, terrible, yeige.
This glaring oversight is just the wee tip top of the project iceberg.
All in all, I've got peeling paint on paint on paint on a floor vent, grout near the toilet that needed attention twenty some-odd years ago, miles of tile-meets-paint and cabinet-meets-wall and crazy-meets-crazy that needs new caulk (....and I've already painted there because I'm really
awesome impulsive), a light fixture older than the house which should be chucked into the garbage can quick like, a shower door a frightening gold I have not the slightest clue how to fix but impossible I must, and cabinet doors that are yeige.
It has quickly come to my attention that house projects are not my strong suit. Okay, that's wrong. I've got some "underdeveloped talents" making themselves known.
I should be thinking the following things:
Look at how awesome this brown looks when the sun's shining through the new curtain!
Man, I'm so happy to be making all these mini-upgrades to our home!
How cool that I'm learning how to paint and plan projects and caulk!
I'm my own teacher!
Here are the actual things I'm thinking:
Crap. The ceiling is a mess.
I wonder if there's a different white paint for the ceiling vs. the drawers?
Why are the babies crying again?
Like there's any way to confess to anyone I've never actually used a roller.
I'm going to be working on this bathroom for all of this year.
I'm not going to get anything other than this bathroom done this year.
Did I make two pots of coffee already this morning?
I need to get a job to pay for all this stuff.
How is it I don't know how to paint? Or caulk? Or spackle? Or plan a project?
Is spackling a word?
Does Paul have a way to see how much Netflix streams in a day?
I'm so embarrassed.
I'm so horrified.
Crap. I missed a spot there. Oh, and there.
I can't be doing this. I need to work on Thomas's birthday party.
I need to get this done. People are gonna be here for Thomas's birthday party.
Gah. There's so much to do.
And I have laundry. So much laundry. Always laundry. Laundry to the death.
How can 20 cubic feet of space have one hundred neglected things?
This really is the tiniest bathroom.
This really is the tiniest bathroom.
I did read to Thomas today, so it's not like I'm the worst mom ever. Just kind of the worst.
Crap. "New bathroom ventilation" needs to go on the list too.
This room is gorgeous when the sunlight shines through the new white curtain!