Saturday, January 29, 2005

The Blues

I'm feeling decidedly better. For now at least as I seem to change course pretty regularly. My worst times are in the morning and afternoon when I feel sick and stuck. In the evenings I start to feel better, and by night I can be downright chipper.

Okay, I'm going to talk about the baby room so bail out now if you're not interested.

Today was supposed to be a day of great progress on the nursery. Yesterday, we had gone to the Home Despot where I pointed out to him the bi-fold doors I wanted for the closet. He didn't agree so we went and looked at mirrored doors which reminded me too much of the 80s. Next we investigated the traditional doors which upon seeing them he determined looked too ugly and depressing. Invariably we ended up back at the bi-fold doors which we purchased.

This pretty much sums up my husband. I have told him that he needs to be more like George on Seinfeld and always do the opposite of whatever he's thinking which would save me a lot of time and aggravation. Trip to Disneyland? He complains for weeks about the crowds and money and weather and travelling. Once we get there, he has a blast and brags to everyone afterwards about the trip including sharing pictures and stories with all his relatives. Minivan? He tells me how unsexy it is and all the various cliches that I will suddenly grow into. Now he loves it because it has the loading capacity of a truck but without having to rope the load up. (Yes, there are other good things about it, but this is what interests him.) Father night at Janie's school? He doesn't want to be hanging out with a bunch of strangers and would much rather have a nice quiet evening at home. When he gets back, he's talking about the good guys he met and how much he learned about what she's working on at school.

I could go on and on but I think you get the picture. My nickname for him has always been "my little raincloud" because he never seems excited or happy, especially not about anything new. Yet, over the years as I have dragged him on my many ideas he has come away having a great time and extremely glad that he went. But it is not always cute and sometimes it gets hard to always be the positive one.

So today was supposed to be a day of great progress on the nursery. He was going to paint and then hang the closet doors as well as the door to the room. He borrowed a paint sprayer from a friend which he said would make the job go quicker. I had my doubts since these doors aren't that big anyways, but I didn't voice them as I knew it was just another opportunity to use a new tool. Fine. Anyways, he spent the morning playing with the paint sprayer which he couldn't get to spray the right consistency of mist for the doors. He ended up painting them with the brush anyways. Trouble is, he didn't prime the wood as I had told him. I had bought him everything for priming as these were bare wood doors. He decided that they didn't need priming, just paint because he spent all the time on the paint sprayer and he wanted to make up for it.

I can't tell you why, but for some reason this just got to me. It did. Isn't that stupid? I'm not a controlling person, but for the nursery I felt deflated that he didn't also feel the unsaid importance of everything being done with quality. And it threw me into a black hole of sadness thinking that he didn't care. These are closet doors. Yet, I felt like it represented so much. And I couldn't get back from it. I didn't yell or scream (not my style) but stood there just watching him paint for the longest time. In my mind I was saying the most horrible stuff, and thankfully only about 5% of it came out my lips.

I came inside and lost my will to work on the nursery. I instead worked on organizing my new office area in the living room. Not nearly as much fun, but I was no longer in the mood for fun. He came in, saw I wasn't working on the nursery, so decided to work on his electrical project in the garage instead.

So no progress. None. Maybe a few steps backwards instead.

Tonight I cooked up steaks and fatty mashed potatoes (with sour cream, cream cheese, butter, shredded cheese and garlic powder), his favorites.

Tomorrow I have great plans for the room. Hanging the wallpaper border. This will be the only wallpaper in our whole house. I've wallpapered once before at a different house, but this is decidedly different because it's for my baby. See how much pressure I've created for myself on this one room?

I think it all stems from the fact that I've wanted to do this room.... forever. I've always wanted to create a beautiful nursery. I couldn't with Janie because we moved when she was 2 months old and then moved into a temporary rental. This feels like my first and last nursery and I want it to be so very perfect. And nothing is perfect, especially not my budget or craftsmanship. I'm not much of a decorator so this is kind of me taking a chance. It could end up being the first fully decorated room in our whole house (with the exception of Janie's room which is half decorated by me and half by her overflowing supply of stuff - another thing I've got to work on). I want something to show that says how much we're wanting this child, even though anyone who knows us knows that already. It's not showing off since we don't have many visitors, but some sort of validation. I don't know how to explain it. Nursery fever? More like nursery pressure. Wish me luck.


4 Comments:

Blogger KV said...

I understand perfectly. With my first son, it took six years for him and I wanted everything perfect. I searched for months for the right shade of blue for the walls, and when my husband put off setting up the nursery, and tried to half ass on the painting and borders, I screamed at him to get out of my baby's room if he didn't care enough to put the heart into it that I did. I ended up doing it myself, but I got my point across to him, adn he ended up making the most beautiful toybox in the perfect shade of blue. I'm not saying scream at your husband. Clearly, I was deranged, but I do get how you feel. You don't have to apologize or explain away your desire to have the nursery the way you want it. When you try so hard and so long for something and so many things go wrong, you just want one thing to go as planned.(Thats how I felt anyway) Good Luck.

5:30 AM  
Blogger KV said...

I understand perfectly. With my first son, it took six years for him and I wanted everything perfect. I searched for months for the right shade of blue for the walls, and when my husband put off setting up the nursery, and tried to half ass on the painting and borders, I screamed at him to get out of my baby's room if he didn't care enough to put the heart into it that I did. I ended up doing it myself, but I got my point across to him, adn he ended up making the most beautiful toybox in the perfect shade of blue. I'm not saying scream at your husband. Clearly, I was deranged, but I do get how you feel. You don't have to apologize or explain away your desire to have the nursery the way you want it. When you try so hard and so long for something and so many things go wrong, you just want one thing to go as planned.(Thats how I felt anyway) Good Luck.

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