Bathroom Disaster

I decided to tackle the downstairs bathroom a couple of weeks ago repainting the "rubber ducky" yellow that had a sponging technique. A few years ago we were into those home improvement shows and the host would say you want your room to "Pop"! Well, that room not only popped but I'm pretty sure glowed in the dark! The first coat of Klitz went on wonderfully but my husband didn't quite explain that Klitz is a little bit different from regular paint. You see, once it's on it stays on! The ceiling, door frame, wood floors and everything else it touches. You can't just run the brush under hot water....oh no.... it couldn't be that easy. Every tiny spot that brushed against the frame or missed the drop-cloth bonded instantly. Needless to say my little project is now a HUGE project. The floor is ruined and to quote my husband, "That is the worst paint job I've ever seen". Yep, the bathroom is still in disarray and I'm not allowed to paint without supervision! That'll teach him....LOL!!!!

Stop and smell the roses

Removing myself from the office was great but I'm finding that I keep creating more work for me to do at home. It's like washing a spot on the wall then noticing because of the clean area that I need to wash the entire wall. I would post before and after pics but honestly it's too embarrassing to share. The good news, no dead-lines here, grab a coke and watch the grass grow sounds good today.

What's the Difference

The other day my husband thanked me for being so good to him. I said you're welcome and silently recapped the days events to pick out the special deed that evoked such a response. Of course he's thanked me in the past but this time it was the way he said it that made me stop and think. Nothing stood out that I could recall so I asked; "What did I do to deserve a thank you?" "For taking such good care of me. If I knew it was going to be like this I would have made you stay home a long time ago". Hum, I'm not doing anything different than what I've been doing, I replied. "That's true", he said "but now you have 70 hours a week to do it in." Before, I would come home exhausted, change out of my work clothes and prepare dinner. Even though some nights consisted of box-dinners or sandwiches and soup, never-the-less, dinner was served, dishes picked up, placed in the dishwasher and maybe time found to enjoy a little t.v. together. Then off to my room to pick out the next day's attire, wash-up, brush teeth and pass out. You see, I'm a "check-list person". Someone who isn't satisfied with ones self unless everything needing to be done is done before calling it a day and on top of that I over analyze pretty much everything done or said. It's not that I pick apart or split hairs but to truly make efforts to understand where someone is coming from, and if I'm the cause of a negative feeling or reaction I will try to fix it. So, I find myself thinking about what he said for understanding. How is there a difference between now and a month ago if I'm doing the same things? Now, when he comes home from work I greet him with a smile and hug almost racing to his arms. Not like before when he would find me in the kitchen, head down grumbling about my days ordeal and barely acknowledging his arrival. I guess before I treated him like a chore, just one more thing on a list of many even though I've always placed him first. The difference is Quality not Quantity and I now realize what his undertone meant even if he doesn't. Funny, I would spend quality time with the kids when they were growing up and still home. For years I would preach to my staff the importance of a quality call, service and performance. And yet with my own husband I lost sight of the most important element, Quality.

And so it begins

After years of 10-12 hour days working in a fast-pace call center environment as a manager, my husband finally convinced me to give it all up in exchange to stay at home and be the perfect housewife. No more long days, weekend, nights, reports, reviews, budgeting, conference calls, unappreciative bosses, etc, etc, etc. Just walk away, decompress from the stress, get back to you, get back to life. Sounds wonderful right? Well, for those of you that suffer from workaholism as I do, understand how difficult that can be. The addiction began when I got my first "real job" at 15 years of age. Oh, like most young girls, I baby-sat here and there but getting out from under an overbearing, near misogynist father was completely different. Working full time at the hot dog stand in the middle of the most popular shopping mall seemed too good to be true. A weekly paycheck, no bills to speak of, new faces and no school! What a more than perfect way for any teenager to spend their time. More hours worked meant more money and more fun but most importantly the taste of freedom! And that's how it began for me, work equalled freedom and freedom kept me away from dad. Within, six months I realized that I was intelligent, not stupid like I was called. I could make good decisions, as I got promoted to Assistant Manager when I turned sixteen. Hum, not at all the dumb fat-ass I believed I was. My self-confidence grew and so did my proclamation to independence.. to Freedom! So now here I am, near 30 years later learning how to be a stay at home housewife. Only thing is....I had no idea that staying home would amount to so many, "Honey, today can you....", "Sweetie, don't forget to get my....", "Baby, can you finish the...." "Honey can you do me a favor?"