The Orange One

There are moments when I channel my inner Hulk and get mad power.

I become like one of those news stories where a woman randomly lifts a car to save her child’s life… (or something like that with less heroism).

Let’s be very “real” here and say that when I get my mind on something, I make it happen.

For instance one time, in passing, I had been told that there was a possibility that I could move from the main floor of my parent’s house, into the basement of that house. Now, as a young adult, this was like someone saying, “you can move from the Bronx to the Upper East Side”… I was all over it. Like, big time on it.I waited until I was the only one at home and suddenly became One Girl and No Truck. I moved an entire office upstairs and my bedroom downstairs. It was amazing. I have no idea how this happened. I mean… a bed, a desk, a dresser, the whole thing! Up and down a flight of basement stairs. NARROW basement stairs. I was a woman… on… a… mission. Boom. That happened.

NOTE: These things typically happen as a result of watching a show on HGTV or TLC. Within a span of 30 minutes, I can have a living room transformed from Sanford and Son straight to Cosby. No lie. Ask my husband of “limited change” if this is indeed a reality and he will confirm this.

You see, one thing I’ve learned, however, is that my enjoyment of instant gratification, through interior changes, can be the epitome of someone else’s demise.

Another example…

When I was 20 something, I felt that the stone fireplace in the basement of which I was dwelling, needed a change. Now, I need to probably mention that:

A. The home we (my parents, brothers and I) were living in was- a RENTAL

B. I was NOT the one writing checks for the rental and

C. Not everyone likes the look of a painted fireplace…

In fact, it is VERY probably (because of proof and raised voices) that someone(s) would NOT want you to paint a fireplace orange in a home that is being rented. Do we see where this is headed?

Now, I REALLY brought this to a new level of “exciting” by playing a little game called,  “While You Were Out” (TLC show from 2002). I painted the entire stone fireplace (with primer, main coat and gloss) orange while my family was in (DRUMROLL) Chicago for the weekend (insert sound byte of crashing instruments). NOT a stellar move.

The fireplace looked great, yes, but… how was I going to casually mention that I had skipped over the part of getting permission and somehow whirled my way into the body of Laurie Hickson-Smith!?

*here is me with something orange… if I find a pic of the actual fireplace, I’ll add it to the post.

Here is what WAS a good idea… I let them know with a good 261 miles between us. They were in Chicago and I would be sticking in St. Louis. This was a good move. I’m fairly certain that I could still here the tone of my father’s voice bouncing off the Arch… but… who’s to say?

Now… we can just skip ahead past the years of multiple references of my making a bad choice and head straight to the point where the choice was made to move OUT of the rental. You know, the process of moving out of a rental house is very interesting. The owner typically requests things like, “we want the walls back to neutral colors, the home cleaned, hardware replaced and…. you know, like a stone fireplace that has suddenly been thrown up on in Rust colored paint, back to “normal”.”

Do you know how ABNORMAL the process of getting a fireplace back to it’s natural born condition after it’s been primed, painted and glossed IS? Here’s the cliff-note on that abnormal endeavor… paint remover, drill brush, 103 degree St. Louis summer, minimal lighting and a girl that quickly realized that Benjamin Moore’s Tangerine Dream was the center of a doggone nightmare.

The 3 step moral of the story is this…

1. You should NOT paint until you have both a mortgage and a moderate amount of wisdom.

2. You should NOT paint anything that requires a metal brush and 20 hours of removal.

3. You should ALWAYS have over 200 miles between your “I did something awesome” and the recipient’s choice words and brow sweat.

Period.

Love Will Keep Us Together

Yes, this is the calendar day of recognizing love and affection. I’ll be honest, I’m not truly one for “Hallmark” holidays but I get it. AND… 5 years ago, I would tell you that the surprise bundle of flowers or the night out to dinner (sans child) is what I would appreciate most. Not this year, my friend, not… this… year.

You see, last night I looked at a “to-do” list of 13 line items (work, college, room mothering, etc…) while having no idea how to pull it all off. SUDDENLY a man (chime in super hero theme song), greeted me to save the day. This man had worked all day, then did the dishes, then helped our child with a project for school, then baked the rest of the chocolate chip cookies (the ones that I left “mid-bake” because I got side-tracked), then went to the grocery to pick up goods for the classroom valentine’s day party, then did the laundry, then gave our kiddo a bath and grand finaled it by gathering all of the garbage to go out. THEN, he even managed to get a workout in before calling it a night. Wow. Passion. Love. Yes…

SIDE NOTE: I’m most impressed by the workout because I usually give that up after the dishes and trip to the grocery store. That’s just me.

Ladies and gentleman… there is not greater love than a man that will come along side you to wipe the tears from your overwhelmed face and then shampoo a kid’s head and scrape crust off of multiple pots and pans. No… greater…  love.

You can take your dark chocolates housed in a heart-shaped box, take your bottle of champagne or long stem red roses and hang on to them, I’ve traded mine in for a hot date with a real man. A man that is my Rockstar… seriously, he’s the Lenny Kravitz of married life.

It’s the unconditional, messy, “I got your back” love that keeps us together.

Okay, THAT and a bottle of wine (I AM a lady… let’s not be irrational).