Home Improvement Hasn't Improved My Disposition

I looked at my calendar and there are 18 days until Christmas. Eighteen. That's two weeks and four days. That's two weekends. Well, for us, it's one weekend, because we will be at a family Christmas for one of those weekends and then family and friends will be here, in our home, on Christmas Eve. And my man and I both have to work. And children have various appointments and programs. So it's really like four days. There are four days left until Christmas. Well, in Sara Time anyway. All I'm saying is, time is short.

And do you know what we're doing here in this old new house of ours? If you guessed home improvement work, you'd be a million dollar winner. If I had a million dollars to give to a winner. Which I don't. And if I did, I'd have totally spent some of it on hiring out this work.

Now I don't want to dis the dear husband, because he is doing most excellent work and saving us cartloads---cartloads, I say!--of cash, but I do want to know what the chromosomal anomaly is that causes menfolk to begin a major project before a major holiday. What is that all about anyway? Is it some learning disability concerning time? Because you know that when they say, "Oh I'll have it done in a few hours/days," you should get your magnifying glass out and read the very fine print between those lines, my friends. You know what that fine print says? It says: "Beware of the aforementioned statement. Your beloved is wildly misled and sweetly optimistic. Project X will take approximately 7 times longer and require 4 more trips to the home improvement store than stated."

I am thrilled that the project has begun. Really. I am. Because if it is never started, it cannot be finished. (I might have read that on a fortune cookie.) But what was wrong with doing it in oh, say October? Oh yes. I remember. There was football every breathing minute. It's just, well, my mudroom has vomited stuff all over my dining room. You know the dining room? One of the rooms that people will occupy on Christmas Eve? It's the room that is currently housing approximately 7.2 metric tons of crap from the mudroom because the mudroom is getting painted. And new flooring. All courtesy of my very own handyman.

He has worked hard for two weekends painting the ceiling and walls and laying cement board on the floor. Next weekend, God willin' and the creek don't rise, he will install the tile. And then, everything will fall to me. I will have to toss stuff and organize stuff and move stuff back into the mudroom. All while baking and shopping and wrapping and cleaning to get ready for Christmas. This is all in addition to working, shuttling children, and doing my regular cooking, cleaning and laundry. (Who am I kidding? If you've read this blog for any length of time, you know that laundry will come last. After I've cleaned toilets with toothbrushes and picked lint from the carpets. Laundry??? HAHAHAHA!!! I crack myself up.) Oh! And reflection. Gotta fit that in somewhere, right?

Oh. Poor little Sara.Woe is her! Yes, I know. I'm having myself a bit of an anxiety-induced pity party. I know that things will get done. I know that I will have to prioritize and delegate and do what I can. I know that I will have to let some things go. (That should be some show--come and watch the Control Freak let some things go!) I know that the people who come here on Christmas Eve will not give a flying fig if there are dust bunnies or smudged mirrors or if I don't get the Oreo balls made. (Actually, if I don't get the Oreo balls made, there truly might be a problem. People wait for those suckers all year. Note to self: let the mirrors go, make the Oreo balls!) My point is, the people coming to our home are coming because they love us and they want to spend time with us--and we them. They are not going to care if my home doesn't look like a movie set. And if they do, they love us enough that they would never say so.

I need to count myself lucky to have such a wonderful home, even if it does need quite a bit of work. I need to count myself lucky that my husband is so very capable when it comes to DIY jobs. I need to count myself lucky that my friends and family are so understanding. (Except when it comes to Oreo balls. They are merciless when it comes to those.) I guess what I'm saying is that I need to build a bridge and get over myself already.

I've heard that ice cream is invaluable when it comes to getting over oneself. So if you need me, I'll just be over here cooking and cleaning and baking and reflecting and getting over myself whilst consuming mass quantities of mint chocolate chip ice cream.