Insanity by Design

Most people appreciate a pretty home; I'm no different. Well, maybe a little different. Probably more than the next guy, I love buying art and other random décor. I love planning rooms and envisioning new shades of cocoa or canyon sun on the walls. I love flipping through catalogs and playing rich decorator. That's not to say I'm good at any of it, but I like it all none the less.

The trouble with design desires when you're unemployed and a mother of tots is obvious, though: no time and no budget. But that's not the only challenge. When you're home most of the time, you notice your surroundings all the more, and little(ish) flaws like ancient track lighting and stained grout begin to fester. Soon you're feverish, desperate for any change, and making poor design choices as a result.

Recently, for instance, we replaced an ugly old ceiling fan with an ugly new ceiling fan. We'd been looking on and off for months (years?), so one day in a crazed desire to do something productive while racing against the nap clock, I found one online, liked the price, thought I liked the fan and then ordered it … straight out of 1977. It actually looked fine, until Hubbo spent a few hours installing it. As soon as it was done, well, it blew alright. And don't even ask me about our new deck color. Ok, I'll give you a hint: cat diarrhea.

But stop me now, or I could go on about the multi-problematic sun room, the rotted wood siding, the driveway, the trim I'd like to repaint (all over the house), the basement, the master bath, the new carpets that are bubbling up--no, it never ends. And I remind myself that it never will--it's called home-ownership. If I give two hoots about design/decor, then I will always be remodeling my abode--at least in my head if not in actuality.

So, what's next? Sure, getting some projects done as time and money allow. But more than that, it's the old-but-wise trick of finding what I do like and focusing on that. Why'd we buy this money pit, I mean, house in the first place--little touches that give it character. If I don't like the trim, look at the art, right? It's not rocket surgery, I remind myself, it's glass half full. Glass half full! Glass half full! Glass half full!

It's a bit like kids and cute vs. annoying. Yes, it's irritating when Stinker blasts pureed squash out of his mouth motorboat-style, but it's also kind of adorable (more so when I move to the side). It's frustrating when Boss puts chips under his place mat then pounds them into crumbs, but something about it makes me chuckle. It's draining when I'm trying to fasten a diaper around squirmy legs and little hands grabbing at the junk, but who can't grin at that?

Keeping my glass half full requires work--I have to pour the bottle after all. But I'm taking a sip and gazing at the good, starting with one of my favorite pieces in the house, a scene in fabric of a woman in black holding a white cat. A beautiful, wonderful mess.