Living It

In every home improvement project, the following questions will inevitably come up: “what fresh hell have I gotten myself into?” and “how much will it cost to pay someone to finish this?” After a week of painting our basement, including the styrofoam beams that line the ceiling, I have injured myself at least a dozen times and have spent more time in the shower scrubbing paint off of me than I care to admit. The kids have helped which has been great, sort of. My ability to micromanage a 9-year-old with a giant paint roller painting a railing needs a little work but, for the most part, I think my controlling little self has been very gracious in accepting amateur assistance.

My evergreen fog walls look “great” if you don’t zoom in too closely and the now destroyed carpet has absolutely no choice but to get ripped up and replaced. The 1970s paneling I stupidly pulled out will get replaced with a cork wall and the giant pool light I was afraid to take down has been dismantled with the help of my brother. “Envision the finished product.” my therapist told me yesterday. “Think about how you’ll feel when you sit down on that couch with the new carpet under your feet.” She’s good, almost magical—she has helped me manifest all the good in my life these past couple of years and taught me how to look at the “bad” through a different lens. It’s not forced positivity, it’s just more along the lines of “embrace the sucky, be the good, envision the better.” It’s not always easy and I am not at all an expert in doing any of those things. Sometimes, I want to slap sucky in the face and being “good” seems so, as Inventing Anna would say, “basic”. Maire and I now like to talk to each other in Anna’s accent. It is very entertaining.

This past week, despite all of the progress I made, I started to feel very guilty about my kids not being as engaged in camps or other activities as they could be. This downward spiral of thinking is very familiar to many of the Moms and general nurturers I know. What is it that pushes so many of us into self-flagellation over self-congratulation? I am providing my family with a space to coexist and enjoy the company of others as they stare down their teen years. The money I am spending on paint, etc will have a definite return on investment here for years to come. I should be so proud but I get stuck in that stupid spiral. Writing here today is an attempt to pull myself out of that. I’m not seeking your reassurance, I just need to expel my guilt through words in order to fully identify with all that I have done well. Go me.

I’m writing this piece from the floor of my back deck, sitting cross legged while trying to ignore the ants as they crawl under my thighs and over my painted on feet. I look into the woods and see the ground covered in rusty pine needles and think “that would be a great accent color for the basement.” Then I see my hands typing away, covered in ink from all the tie-dying Maire and I did yesterday and I remember that I have done fun things with these kids. Nowadays, we look on social media and constantly compare ourselves without really being aware. Because of this, I have tried to limit Facebook etc. for myself outside of poems that I see, like, and share and funny videos and memes. I’m not “killing it” right now but I am “living it” and “living it as well as I can with what I got.” I have to stay focused on this lane right here, right now. Are any of us really killing it? I would guess no. So let’s just keep on living it as best we can. Now it’s time for me to take a shower and set up the most thrown together yard sale in history. Hopefully Meg will stop by and hum the tune from Sanford & Sons.

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