RouletteWeekend

We made it the whole day without even one argument and we even took a trip to Lowe’s and Costco. Miracles never cease.

I swear I feel like all we do is argue lately and yesterday was quite pleasant. We had to go to Lowe’s to get a few more things for my painting project. It’s so funny, I painted the living room, sitting room, and foyer in about 3 days. Two coats of paint, clean baseboards, plate covers taken off and put back on, and now, I’m painting the tiniest bathroom in this neighborhood and today is day three and the only thing I’ve actually gotten painted is the crown molding, trim, and the interior side of the bathroom door.

In my defense, I picked the deepest shade of red I could find: Royal Garnet and I’m painting everything in the room that color baseboard to ceiling. It will be like stepping into a tiny little jewel box, with mother in law’s dead relatives looking at you.

I know it’s probably not the ideal way to design a room, but I did decide the color based on the super cool photos of dead people. You know the ones, old, round wooden frames of women looking at you with just the slighted nod of disappointment. Well, there was not just one in this house. There were three portraits and it only seemed fitting that they have their own shrine. Although, it did give me some clue as to where mother in law gets her disapproving look from. I guess it’s genetic.

Although, she’s been in pretty high spirits since we changed the furniture out in the living room, painted, and added a few gallery walls of photos she’d forgotten that she had.

I wouldn’t quite jump to the conclusion that I’m “settling” in just yet and every time I sit down and say that things are on the upswing or I feel positive, by the end of the day the shit has hit the fan and I’m feeling quite opposite.

But I’m optimistic today that I can get the ceiling painted and the walls (twice) and get the door hung back up and by tomorrow, I think I’ll be able to hang my distant in laws on the wall so they can look down on me while I poop.

Other than that, I think I have some rest in my future. We have undone everything we did upstairs to make things feel like “ours” since we got here and next week, I will probably spend my waking hours moving beds, cleaning carpets (again), and turning all the rooms up there into guest bedrooms that I truly hope get used by anybody who is passing through and needs a place to sleep.

As for this weekend, the scratch in the back of my throat and the slight cough I’ve developed seem to be telling me that a weekend on the couch watching cheesy holiday movies might be just what the doctor ordered. We’ll see if I can actually sit still or if I’m just dreaming about a time when I can rest peacefully or maybe that’s not til I’m dead.

But today, I’m alive and while I may not be so “well” with this cold settling in, I’m optimistic that Will and I can go through a second day without arguing. Maybe it’s because I just don’t have the energy for the “fight” or maybe it’s because I’m finally accepting my fate. I live in a beautiful house, and sure, it’s not mine. I didn’t find it. I didn’t pick it out. But I also didn’t have to pay for it. I get to decorate it pretty much however I want. And my logical brain knows that it could be worse. It could be way worse. It’s just that my emotional brain wanted something so totally different.

I don’t know when I stopped believing that things work out the way they are supposed to. Or maybe I didn’t stop believing it, I just, for some reason, have been refusing to believe that it applied in this situation. And I guess that’s been my problem.

I remember times in my life when I would have dreamed of living in a house like this. I would have given anything to raise my children in a house like this. And maybe that’s part of it. Look, I’m not a psychologist, but maybe that guilt I always feel for every single thing is part of why I am unwilling to accept this situation. Maybe I feel guilty for not being able to give my kids this life when it would have mattered, but then I look at the other side of the coin and wonder, if I could have given my kids this life and the end result was having one of my own kids overdose and die on my couch and I had to be the one to find them, would I still feel bad that I didn’t give them this?

And the answer is a resounding, no. I’ve always been people’s biggest champion. I’m usually the first to defend questionable behavior with my overused line of “people are generally doing the best they can with the tools they have.” And most days, I afford myself the same courtesy. And more importantly, my kids are all amazing and generous and funny and healthy and for the most part, I would say they are all fairly happy adults.

If I were talking to someone in my position, I guess I would tell them to make the best of it. This is the life you have even if it’s not the life you planned so be grateful for the good, work through the bad, and maybe, every now and then, flip off one of those disappointed bathroom ancestors just for shits and giggles.