I may have lost my mind.
Over the summer, I was in a bit of a funk for many reasons and one of them was that I kind of hate my house. The layout is awkward, it's drafty, some of the rooms are oddly sized, the colors are hideous, and we've only got one full bath and it has a claw foot tub with a suspended shower curtain.
That's what you get when you buy a house built in 1920. I knew getting into it that there would be problems and we've handled them as they've come. I knew the colors were hideous when we moved in, I just kept in mind that I could change them. I knew I wouldn't change them immediately because when we moved in, I was about four months pregnant and it was all I could do to unpack. I did manage to paint the nursery because it was God-awful: a pale green trim with blue and white toile wall paper on one wall and white on the rest of the walls. The house has lots of cracks from the house settling but I choose to see that as character.
A friend of ours put their house on the market and I looked at the pictures and it depressed me. It was gorgeous! I even daydreamed about buying it, but quickly came to my senses. It had features we loved but other features that wouldn't quite work for us and our family. I started to feel worse and worse about my house because I feel like it's ugly and I hate what it says about me. I don't mind the mess, because that's my kids and my family enjoying each other. I don't mind the piles of books in various places because who would? I don't mind most of the furniture because I actually like most of it. I mind the colors. The brown trim is actually kind of maroon. The living room is five shades of ugly. There's a hideous flur-de-lis border in the small hallway and an ugly wallpaper border in the front entryway. The bathroom is an indescribable shade of green. I've grown to accept the blue in the kitchen, mostly by finding curtains that I don't despise. (They're toile for those of you who know me.) I do LOVE the fireplace. It's fabulous. The pink bedroom is...iffy. Our room? God. GOD. The only thing in there worth keeping is (are?) the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
Here we are, three years later, and I've painted two rooms in the house: the nursery and the room that was the living room and is now the dining room (it was Longhorn Orange which, as a Red Raider, I couldn't stomach. It lasted over a year). I had the initial goal of one room a year until I got the house how I wanted it, but the more kids you have, the harder it is to paint yourself. I enjoy painting, but it's exhausting and Austin doesn't like doing it so I typically end up doing most of it myself, with my soulmate because she's awesome like that.
So, we decided that we have enough expendable income at the moment to just hire someone to paint for us. Of the six remaining areas of the house to be painted, five are being painted this week. The week before Christmas. Because I've lost my mind.
The painter says he thinks he'll be done by the end of the week. I could have my house completely repainted by Friday! Which would be fabulous. But I'm a hair skeptical. I would actually be ok with it taking a bit longer because I have to vacate rooms two at a time and do it over night. The hallways are first and are empty. The front hall seems massive with nothing in it. Next up will be the living room and bathroom and I have little concern about emptying those rooms. The really scary one? The master bedroom. I have cleared off 5 boxes and several massive piles of books off the bookshelves and there's still at least 2 boxes worth left. Then there's the bed, the chairs, the dressers, the cedar chest, the mobile bookshelves, the nightstands, the closets to empty...so much. I've moved some out already, but it's going to be a crazy evening getting everything out of the master bedroom. Plus my kids will have to be locked in their room while we do all this and you know kids LOVE being locked away.
This week is going to be nuts. I get to move in and out of half of my house, corral my children, wrap presents, put up a Christmas tree, and prepare for Christmas. So if I seem a bit manic this week, that's why. Oh, and the boys aren't in FKO this week, so even more awesome!
No really, it's going to be great. Hopefully, by the end of the year, I will be in love with this house again, instead of just dealing with it. And I'll regain my sanity. Or what I had of it.