I’ve figured it out. I’ve decided that Darren doesn’t actually go out of town. I would bet the farm that he is just sitting at the fancy hotel down the street, living like a king, ordering room service and lounging by the pool. I swear he does this just to prove a point. Well, a couple points…Point number one, I appreciate everything my husband does for me. Point number two, I can do things…turns out I CAN take out the trash. Worst realization ever.
Chaos always ensues while Darren is out of town. Some days I might as well just fall flat on my face straight out of bed, cut out the middleman, save myself some time.
It’s time for me to accept this => This is going to be hard. Suck it up buttercup.
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Well, it took me a year, but I finally finished it. Yes, you heard that right – a whole year. Whoever decided that inventing Deco Mesh was a good idea is a mean, mean person and is laughing all the way to the bank.
It was about this time last year when I was looking for a project to keep my mind and my heart busy. I was having such a hard time with my father’s passing and it was quite easy to buy things to start projects yet the actual doing of anything, let alone finishing anything wasn’t happening.
I can only give myself a free pass for so long.
So there it was, bags and piles of pink Deco Mesh, mocking me. Stupid Deco Mesh. Bring it on.
I put my big girl panties on, rolled up my sleeves, called in some reinforcements and got it done. I’m not gonna lie, I really do love it. It reminds me of a 90’s spiral perm on crack. I watched a bazillion videos and it took forever and it was a pain in the keister. I’ll tell you this though…If you want to strain your marriage a bit…leave piles Deco Mesh around for 2 weeks. That will do the trick. It is guaranteed to piss off just about the kindest of husbands.
There are a couple of things I learned from this project:
1. I can ask for help:
Man. I think this will always be hard for me. I’m horrible at asking for help, I feel people judge me as being weak. But strangely I am honored when people ask me to help them. It is so odd. But working on this project with a friend was tons of fun. She kept me focused and we bounced ideas off of each other. AND THEN when Darren started getting frustrated that his dining room table was MIA, he started helping too. Don’t tell him, but it was fun throwing Deco Mesh at each other.
Thanks for helping Babe
2. Just because I can – doesn’t mean I should:
Every.Stinkin’.Time. You’d think I’d learn. Just because I CAN do something myself, doesn’t mean I should. Yes, I CAN change my own tire, in sub-freezing temperatures, in the middle of the night, with 3 screaming kiddos in the car, on the side of the highway. Should I? No. No I shouldn’t. I should just call the triple-a. That’s what it’s for. Same goes for Deco Mesh. That’s why God invented Etsy.
3. It isn’t always pretty when you get close, I mean really close:
Seriously. Don’t look too closely at this wreath. It looks fabulous from far away (just like me). But then the closer you get, the more you see of all the frays and imperfections. And boy-oh-boy does this thing have imperfections (just like me).
4. But….I have developed a love/hate relationship with Deco Mesh:
Dude. Not 2 minutes after I finished saying ‘I never want to see Deco Mesh ever again’ was I scrolling the Craft Store sale ad and saw that Deco Mesh was on sale *Yahtzee* I started envisioning a beautiful St. Patrick’s Day wreath. I need to go to the Craft Store, don’t I? Ugh. There is something seriously wrong with me. Don’t tell Darren.
Couldn’t be happier
I think Darren inherited his amazing cleaning abilities from his grandmother. Man, that woman knew clean. I have never seen a more beautiful sliding glass door track in my life. She even had this beautiful doily in her fridge for her orange juice. A doily. Genius. Yup, you heard me. I’m pro-doily. Say it with me, doily. Doileeeeee.
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I worry. It’s what I do. I’m like – really REALLY good at it. I worry that the mole on Emily’s arm looks different. I worry that Darren is too busy. I worry that Maddie’s eye prescription has changed since we checked a couple weeks ago. I worry that Jack-Jack is going to grow up.
I worry that there are mercury vapors in the air. I worry about world hunger & people dying.
I know, I know. My dad was always the first to smack me upside the head.
I’ve found that one of the ways I can keep the worries out of my head AND an added bonus of keeping them from turning into anxieties, is to have projects. Lots and lots of projects.
Darren can usually tell worries are on high alert when he comes home to a newly decorated bathroom. Poor guy.
I’m pretty lucky that over here in New House Land, I have projects coming out of my whozits. One of the projects I am working on now is the entry from the garage. I don’t like how neglected this area is and I would like to turn this into a welcoming, warm and functioning space.
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I was first introduced to the world of Goose Eggs when Maddie was 2. She was running on the couch and tripped. Her forehead met the corner of the windowsill, like hard. Dude. Her forehead just popped right out. I proceeded to freak out. I was yelling at Darren to call 911, my poor baby had cracked her scull open and this is obviously what a brain bleed looks like. More screaming at Darren ‘This is not a drill, call 911’.
I’m sure in Darren’s version of this story I was calling him all the sweet terms of endearment in my vocabulary, but I will deny it.
Darren casually walked over and snorted.
Fuming people, I.AM.FUMING. Why the frickin’ frick isn’t Flight for Life already here?!?!
‘Sarah, it’s just a Goose Egg’
A what? I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing. Shut it Schroeder, I’ll call 911 myself.
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