Room of Shame, Wall of Fame

Lately, my posts have alternated between the philosophical and the frivolous. Well, we're back to frivolous. Because if you're like me, you love to see pretty pictures of other people's houses.

But first, the unpretty...

I'm currently working on another decorating project. My bedroom. It's abysmal. It's so bad I don't even like to be in the room unless I'm sleeping. Because sleep is bliss. And when I'm sleeping I can forget about how messy, colorless, uninspiring, and unrelaxing my bedroom is. 

But this post is not about my bedroom...because that project is not going well. I'm attempting to use only what fabric, furniture, art, and accessories I already have and be hyper-frugal. Usually that approach works out well for me. This time...not so much. I'm simply stuck.

Nonetheless I will show you a few pictures of it so that you will feel sorry for me. And hopefully the shame of knowing my pictures are out there in blogland for all of you to see and judge will motivate me to finish it. Because if you read my last post, you'll know that I am prone to abandon un-fun projects.

So today, I'm posting about something I finished a long time ago. A lovely wall-scape. 

I am not a "decorator," not even an amateur one. But I have been told I have a knack for arranging things on a wall.

You may think this wall is too "theme-y." It probably is but I still love it. This wall was inspired by my trips abroad. Two trips to Paris and one to Munich. I love to travel. And I love to get all nostalgic about my trips because they were incredibly meaningful, once-in-a-lifetime experiences...well, thrice-in-a-lifetime if I'm being literal.

You can see I have some sketches from Paris...purchased from a street vendor by the Eiffel Tower. 

They are not standard-size prints and I was not about to pay the big bucks to have them custom-framed. So I just did it myself. I spent about $13 per print for all the framing. 

First, buy some frame pieces you can get at Hobby Lobby or Michael's in whatever lengths you need. They come in sets of 2. Then buy some foam board (that you'll just cut to size and mount behind the print.) Then have the frame department cut glass to whatever size you need. Anyone in the framing department can help you find these items. I promise it's really easy.

There are a few artifacts thrown in. A little Eiffel tower from one of my trips. A tea pot that had been my husband's grandmother's. Some framed antique postcards from Paris that I have a huge pile of.

I also framed two tiny watercolors my sister sent me from a visit to Austria, back when she lived in Germany. 

I love blending art, sentimentality, artifacts, and photos in a way that's cohesive. I think having everything in black frames and using black shelves helps bring everything together without it looking too cluttery. 

(Sorry for the bad photography. I do not have a fancy camera yet.)

Oh, I also framed a photo of Blondie when she was about 3. (See above.) My parents went to Germany and brought her back a beautiful wool cape with sterling silver buttons in the shape of edelweiss. I am not kidding. It also has a matching beret, scarf, and mittens. I know, total heirloom. I took a photo of her wearing that precious set and it's framed with the rest of my world travel items. 

Here's another wall that's similar. All black and whites this time. Plus a punch of color with this great vase (that I got at a thrift store even though it currently sells in a catalog for $40.)

The first wall is still my fave. It's probably nothing that special but it's always what I get compliments on. I even had a friend who moved to Florida and took a picture of my wall before she left so she could sort of replicate it in her new home. 

No need to reinvent the wheel, people. Remember, imitation is the finest form of flattery. (And if that is true then Pottery Barn should give me a big ol' shopping spree because I copied all these wall-scape ideas from their catalog.)

I know it's just a wall. But, when it's 5:00 p.m. and my t-shirt is smeared with peanut butter and snot and my face has yet to see a washcloth, I gaze at this pretty wall and recall a glorious moment of sipping a cafe creme and eating pain au chocolat in Paris with my best friend, Lily. Sigh.

Because sometimes a wall is more than just a wall. Sometimes a wall is therapy. And when you're surrounded by walls all day...and surrounded by children all day...it's important that you like your walls. (And your children.) The pictures and artifacts on this wall make me feel nostalgic and inspired and cheery.

Got a wall you love? I'd love to see it.

Got a wall you don't love? Spray paint some old frames you've got sitting around the house. (Or go get some at the thrift store or dollar store.) Spray them all black. Or white. Or even a beautiful red. Pick out a few pictures (you know you have 4,000 just sitting there on your computer.) Then make them black and whites (through the wonder of digital photography). 

Frame, hang, and enjoy.

To Thine Own Self Be True

A year ago I had a painful revelation. I'm not who I thought I was.

My entire life, I had been under the false but comforting impression that I was "Little Miss Type A". Organized. Together. Detail-oriented. Ambitious. A list-making, time-managing, efficiency-driven, dynamo of a gal. A natural-born leader with productivity and perfectionism oozing from my pores.

But as time went by, I was daily bombarded by a perplexing disconnect between my identity and my reality. For a while, I simply lived in denial...until my reality became increasingly difficult to ignore. 

My home was not organized. I often felt that I was anything but "together." And while I own a label maker and I can spend hours roaming the aisles of Staples and I heart containers, my life did not reflect Type-A-ness. At all. I was juggling a million different things...and dropping balls right and left. I sought refuge in my Myers-Briggs-ness, telling myself "I am an ENFJ." But the chaos and disorder went on, unabated.

This disconnect between my identity and my reality was ostensibly easy to explain. I was simply a Type-A who had fallen off the wagon. And there were lots of good reasons for this. Balancing career and family and home. Living with disorganized people (known as children.) Not having a Type-A husband to partner with me in all things orderly and organized. I was a victim of people and circumstances who did not align well with my needs and goals.

And then the truth just hit me one day. Sobering and undeniable truth that was painful to swallow and even more painful to admit to others.

I am not Type-A. I never was. I was just a wannabe Type-A. 

I didn't fall off the wagon. I was never on it to begin with. 

I was just some deluded girl running behind the wagon...sprinting, sweating, breathless, and very determined. But not destined.

Don't get me wrong. I love order. I am always looking for the book or method or system that will work for me. (Fly lady flew into my life...and then flew back out as quickly as she came.) I crave visual peace, especially in my home. I even use my label maker. But for every Type-A-ish attribute, there are at least 10 shameful characteristics that prove otherwise.

I am usually late. I am very absent-minded. I often can't find stuff. I am very easily distracted. I procrastinate unpleasant tasks. I love to start projects and not finish them if they become un-fun. And I feel guilty of course but not guilty enough to employ the self-discipline I need to complete the not-fun project.

Worst of all, I am a horrible manager of my time. Horrible. 

Like when I'm on my way to the bathroom and I pass the computer and decide to just quickly check my e-mail and then it's 45 minutes later and I have forwarded a "What Kind of Dessert Are You?" questionnaire that somebody sent me that I didn't have the heart not to do and then I decided to make my bed because it would look prettier and then I am wondering why I've nearly peed my pants and why my children are running wild and my baby is screaming in the high-chair and out of Cheerios.

That is not Type-A. That is Type-ADD.

And while I do not want to be that person, I now know, for better or for worse, that I am that person.

And when I finally accepted it, I felt free. And freedom is a beautiful thing.

You shall know the truth and the truth will set you free. And it did.

Sure, it's disappointing to realize you're not who you want to be. But all that blame-shifting and deluded thinking was exhausting and disappointing. Exhausting because I was always running after that dang wagon and never reaching it. Disappointing because I had an impossible image to live up to. Not to mention that being a blame-shifter makes you unlikeable and cranky because you blame everyone and everything except yourself.

Two funny things happened when I told my husband of this grand revelation...

First, I got all self-righteous about my self-actualization, thinking I was brilliant for realizing it and so humble and mature for accepting it. (I'm always amazed at my twisted ability to puff up with pride as I glory in my humility.)

Second, my grand revelation came as no surprise to him.

He just looked at me and smiled.

And then I knew...

He had known all along.

He is a saint, this man. First of all, he lives with me and has put up with all my junk for over 13 years of marriage. Second, he has never felt the need to point out my flaws. He loves me in spite of them and knows that I'll learn what I need to when I need to.

I wish I could say I've always been the same way with him. (I perfected the art of nag years ago. But thankfully God is overhauling that part of me too.)

As it turned out, everyone knew I wasn't just a Type-A who had fallen off the wagon. Everyone but me.

Even my best friend told me, "You're not that person. You're never going to be that person. When are you going to accept it? Why don't you think of each day as a grand adventure instead of a controlled routine that you need to maintain and perfect?"

The joy of freedom, of seeing yourself for who you really are, is that you are then finally free to work on the real issues. To admit that you have a problem. (Many, many problems.) No more blaming. No more exhaustion. No more disappointment...well, not as much disappointment.

So I'm working on being a better manager of my time. On being organized (only in the areas where it really matters.) On a few other personal disciplines I've chosen for this year. And I'm actually making a bit of progress. We're making progress. (Because if you read a couple of posts ago, you'll recall that I Got Nothin'.)

So for all you Type-A's out there, I love you. I still sometimes want to be you. You all look so neat and pretty and organized and enviable up on that wagon. I will likely continue to read your books and attempt to apply your methods...probably in vain.

But for all you wannabe's still racing after that wagon, consider this...

Maybe you're not meant to be on the wagon. Maybe there's joy and adventure and freedom in simply accepting who you really are.

To thine own self be true.

-William Shakespeare

(Perhaps he and I have a few things in common. Weird, philosophical, wordy, romantic, misunderstood writer-types, who place undue emphasis on the dramatic and tragic.)  

To thine own self be true.

 Yeah, I like it. 

And I'm finally free to live it.

Naked Windows No More

{This is an old post with a good picture of my mantle for The Nester's linky party. Scroll down and you'll see the mantle pic. I still like my mantle so it's looked this way for over a year.}

...................................

I've lived in this house 3 years. We bought it brand new because we can't fix stuff and low-maintenance sounded nice.

I love this sweet house. It is nothing fancy. Just a 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom white vinyl-sided home in a small neighborhood of similarly-sized vinyl-sided homes. But it's our home (well, in 27 years it will be ours.)

One thing I love about this home is the giant great room. It's a monstrous room that takes up most of the home's square footage. You know the type: kitchen, dining room, and living room all in one. And our family manages to squeeze even more uses out of this gracious space: media room, schoolhouse, skating rink, library, laundromat and indoor playground.

And because this house was brand new, I envisioned jumping right in and prettying it all up. Fabulous paint, lovely window treatments with bamboo shades, lots and lots of flowers in the Spring...

But life did not allow for much pretty stuff at that point. Life in general was not pretty for quite some time. Between my career and two young children and a family crisis, all the prettying-up never happened.

A year later I quit my job to be home. Two months later I was pregnant with our 3rd child who is now 13 months old.

I have been craving some long-overdue beauty.

This past summer, my best girlfriend referred me to Nesting Place, which totally inspired me. I loved this blog because it's for real people. People who cannot sew. People who have children. People who are not rich. And people who do not want to spend all the livelong day fretting over just the right window treatment.

My fellow Americans, I have thrown off the shackles of perfectionism, excuses, and cluelessness. For the last couple of months, I have been a decorating freak.

My great room has lived with naked windows for 3 years! I had the perfect design in mind. Beautiful bamboo shades with raw silk panels hung high on a big chunky rod with big chunky rings...with a big chunky price-tag. It would have cost hundreds. And I could afford about 1/5 of a hundred...$20 to be exact. For the whole room. Five whole windows.

AND I DID IT!!! IN ONE DAY!!! WITHOUT A SEWING MACHINE!!!

I forgot to take "Before" pictures. But just imagine plain, sad, naked, clear boxes on the wall...

Naked No More. Look at these beauties:

Here's a little peek at the fabric. It's very fancy, isn't it? A lovely taupe botanical print on a cream background. You can get it for $3.77 a yard at Wal-Mart. I used just 3 yards and still had some left over.

(I'm also easing into Spring with my mantle. I live down South so it will be here before too long. I had the vases left over from my sister's wedding several years ago. I filled it with potpourri from a $1 bag of potpourri I bought after Christmas at Target. Then I just put sprigs of green berries down in there (purchased from the Dollar Tree and with the fakey green leaves removed.)

Here's the rest of the window. The fabric wasn't quite wide enough to go the length of these two windows so I matched up the pattern in order to stay cheap and work with the width I had. And you totally can't tell!

By now, you know this method. It's a rod-less wonder, I tell you. Tap in your upholstery tacks (94 cents for about 30 at Wal-Mart.) Clip your fabric with drapery clips and hang them on the tacks. The trim is just some plain canvas trim also from WM for $1.13 a yard. I already had the drapery clips. Purchased those several months ago at a thrift store. A whole coffee can of them for $4!!!

Here's my big bay window. I did not straighten things up for you or even tell my kiddo to get out of the way.

The beauty of these mistreatments? I can still add to it. If I can ever afford beautiful bamboo shades, I'll just mount them underneath these valances.

My kitchen window turned out so pretty I couldn't stop staring at it. Once again, I'm keepin' it real. See those dishes in the dish drainer and that messy counter? Actually that counter is pretty clean compared to right now. Blogging is such blissful avoidance.

This is another mistreatment idea ripped straight from the Nester's site. You just pinch up the fabric from the back on either side and put a safety pin through it. I hung it on a tension rod because I had one. You could also just tack it up.

And here's a close-up. (Do you like my thrift store plates for 25 cents each? I've always loved the cheapness and laziness and elegance of plates on a wall.)

Oh, and I just hot-glued some $1.37 a yard canvas rope trim...also from WM.

The moral of the story?

If you have naked windows, cover them up. Valances. Panels. Fake Roman shades. It doesn't matter. Just do something.

You know that recurring dream you have where you show up at school or work in the morning and you're naked? Don't you hate that dream? Well, that's how your naked windows feel every day of their lives! It's a nightmare. And it's wrong.

Don't let them live in shame and humiliation another day.

I Got Nothin'

Yesterday my husband read a couple of my blog posts. Instead of telling me how clever and witty I am, he said: 

Lackluster life? Do you really feel that your life is lackluster? 

I responded with my usual rationalizations like, 

"Of course not, I'm just being funny. 'Lackluster' only in the sense that it's not Broadway." 

I got all defensive and told him that he doesn't get my humor and that he was making much ado about nothing.

But he wasn't. The truth is, the last few months have been hard. Motherhood and domesticity have become challenging in a new way. I mean, intensely hard...overwhelming this here wimpy soul. And while blogging has been such a great outlet for me and I get to talk about decorating and the Golden Globes and all, the truth will eventually seep out...even when one is trying to cover it up with fluff and funnies.

Today, after crying on the phone to my husband, I realized that it's okay to admit that life is hard. Sometimes I don't want to admit that because it makes me feel guilty and spoiled. I don't live in a war-torn, AIDS-ridden African country. I am not a single mother. I know where my next meal will come from. So I don't feel I have the right to say (out loud) that life is hard. But it is. 

In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. 

Those were the words that came to me in rare moment of quiet reflection. 

Turns out my Bible isn't broken after all. (A joke from one of my last posts.) Those were not just words Jesus spoke for the martyrs and the persecuted. They're words for all of us, for the AIDS orphan in Africa and for the weary mom living in vinyl-sided suburbia...like me. 

The mom who is tired of living the life of a servant. The mom who doesn't want to yell at her kids anymore. The mom who wonders (multiple times a day) how badly she may be screwing them up and what kind of therapy they may need when they're grown. The mom who wants to change. Who wants to be kinder, gentler, more patient, less selfish, less on edge. The mom who wants more than anything to delight in being a servant rather than often despising the selfless existence she's called to live..and truly wants to live (in her better moments.) 

I need to change. I want to change. But change is more than a campaign slogan. And it's definitely not just something one wills herself to do. I can't just change...not without help. And this is usually how it goes with my Father and me. I try and try in my own strength. I fail and fail in my own strength. I finally give up, admitting that I've got nothin'.  And I hear him say... 

Now this, my child, I can work with. 

He works with nothin'. He's kind of crazy like that. You know, creating people out of the dust of the earth and all. Speaking stars into existence. Turns out He's really good at making somethin' out of nothin'. And I am really bad at getting that through my head.

So, right now I've got nothin'. And I've decided I'm okay with that. Because my Father is ridiculously creative and powerful. And He's constantly having to remake me. I'm ready and finally willing...and grimacing. Because being remade usually hurts a bit.

So, while there is definitely trouble in this world, my world, I am not alone. And neither are you. Take heart...and thanks for letting me share mine.

Almost Famous

(Warning: shameless self-promotion and tooting of my own horn follows...)

I recently started reading an outrageously hilarious blog. I found June on the Nester's blogroll and I was hooked from the first post I read. Anyhoo, I mustered up the courage to comment on her star-sightings post. And you'll never believe this...

My comment was her comment of the week! There is only one explanation for this: June and I have the same very odd sense of humor.  (Or I hacked into June's blog and deleted all the other comments.)

Anyway, don't worry about me because if you read my last post, you know that my acceptance speech is already written.

a la mode hits the road: part 2

Do you recall M's impromptu kitchen re-do from a couple of days ago? Well, I left M with some suggestions regarding how to mistreat her living room windows after I left, along with some repurposing of art work and such. Much to my alarm, M sent me an e-mail a day later entitled, "Decorating Disaster." Apparently, the living room mistreatments were easier said than done. 

So Friday, The Scooper scooped up all her sweeties and headed over to M's house. I felt like a decorating super hero. I wore giant dangly earrings just for the occasion. (They sound like wind chimes when I fly...I like that.) 

We already had the necessary supplies. Here's what we did. (BTW, I completely ripped off The Nester and her fabulous "mistreatment" ideas for all of this.) 

Voila! The finished product...

First, we made a valance using chocolate-colored burlap. We upholstery-tacked the burlap (way up high to make the room seem taller) the length of the window. Then we hot-glued cream ball-fringe to the valance. Mmmm....Chocolate. Cream. Cafe Mocha anyone?

M already had pre-made tab-top curtains that coordinated with the furniture. I suggested that we turn them upside down and drapery-clip them. And instead of clipping the panels to a rod, we put more tacks into the wall and just hung the panels on the tacks. No rods, ya'll! Do you know how much a rod would have cost for this big ol' non-standard-size window? Well, I don't know either but I bet it's a lot.

(Tacks and clips...that's it!)

(Way up high, to make the room seem taller...)

Lest you think I left M with upside-down, high-water panels, think again. More burlap. More ball fringe. More hot glue. Mission completion (shout out to Little Einsteins.) 

(See the upside-down tab-top panels? See how we ran out of trim and fringe? No worries. It will mostly be hidden behind the sofa.)

I cannot stress how cheap and easy this project was!

Also, M was sad about her craft area. It sits in her dining room and it was just a utility table with a table cloth on it. Once again, I recalled an idea I'd scene at Nesting Place. A mistreated craft table. We had a problem though. No more hot glue sticks! You must never run out of glue sticks people. It's like the milk or bread of hack-job decorating (which is the only kind I do.) But, where's there's a will there's a way. Did you know that with enough force, you can get an upholstery tack in a heavy-duty plastic utility table? (I would only try it if you're a super hero and wearing dangly earrings though.)

(Pardon the wrinkles...I was too lazy to drag out the iron.)

And there you have it. Mistreated windows. Mistreated tables. Mistreated children. (How else do two mommies with 4 young children get all this decorating done?) 

Just doing my job in this part of the planet to help out humanity...all in a day's work.

Stay tuned for what I did to my house on Saturday...

Why?

Proceed only if you want to hear the mundane musings of my ADD mind...

Why does my 13-month-old refuse to eat anything off his high-chair tray but gobble up all the junk he threw off the tray once it's on the floor and covered with lint?

Why do I go to Wal-Mart and spend $115 only to realize the next day that we are out of toilet paper and therefore forced to swipe ourselves with Papa Johns napkins?

Why is it so hard to get a freaking shower?

Why will Trader Joe not come to my town? Why does he force me to stock up on his amazing and reasonably-priced delicacies only when I am visiting locales so very far from me? Doesn't he know I am his #1 fan? Doesn't he know I could single-handedly keep a local store in business? Doesn't he know how much I need him in my life?

Why is my naked and unlit Christmas tree still in my living room on Jan. 8th?

Why is my daughter apparently the only 7-year-old in the universe not allowed to watch Hannah Montana? And why do I feel like the most tyrannical mother in the world as a result?

Why do I have aberrant yet frequent fantasies about being on Broadway...when my reality is the lackluster life of a 35-year-old homeschooling mother of 3 and all the mess and mayhem that entails? Maybe I should just entitle my life. Hmmm... Les Miserables? Wicked? 

Why did Jerry Seinfeld and not me turn mundane musings such as these into an award-winning, bazillion-dollar-revenue-earning sitcom? And my own musings just sit in a blog that I'm pretty sure only my mom reads? 

Off to get that elusive shower...hopefully.

a la mode hits the road: an unexpected kitchen re-do

Don't you love it when your day doesn't go as planned in a good way? This morning was our first day back at Classical Conversations, a weekly class my children attend. After the usual getting kids groomed, dressed, fed and loaded in the van, and driving 20 minutes to destination, I found it curious that no other vehicles were in the parking lot. After a quick phone call, it turns out that we start back next week instead. "Cool," I thought. "I just endured 2 hours of stress for nothing...and now have disappointed, teary-eyed children." So, we spent the morning at the library and then headed over to my sister-in-law's house (since we were half-way there already) to hang out with her and my nephew. 

And then the fun began. I ended up redecorating my sister-in-law's kitchen! Here's a little background...

My brother and sister-in-law (we'll call them M & M) moved into their home last Spring. It's sort of a temporary situation. They're renting it for a steal while they sort of plan what's next in their life. So while it's a great financial situation, M isn't getting to nest as much as a girl would like. She loves a pretty home just like we all do but because it's not their house, she is seriously limited. There are wallpaper issues, dated cabinetry issues, and turquoise countertops. Like me, she is not a millionaire so every penny counts. Several months ago we found some great fabric at a thrift store along with a curtain rod and a bunch of drapery clips. But our schedules never meshed in order for me to help her out...until today.

We decided to focus on the kitchen. We did 3 window mistreatments and repurposed her wall decor. We used what she had plus about $12 in some additional fabric, trim, and a plate hanger. 

This sad wall has peeling, oil-based paint. These lightweight wooden tiles I'd found at a garage sale for practically nothing made a fun backsplash to cover up the peeling paint above her Waffle House-inspired breakfast nook (if you can call a ginormous built-in booth a "nook.") A little hot glue along the top of each tile did the trick. I wish we'd had more tiles to continue the backsplash but that's okay. It's better than it was and therefore beautiful. 

BEFORE:

AFTER:

Got an extra "fringey" afghan that's screaming "Hang me up?" M did. We put her thrift store rod above the window sink, folded over an unused afghan (that we cut in half long-wise), clipped it with drapery clips and voila! It's a free and cozy curtain. 

We needed some fabric for the breakfast "nook" windows, so we headed to the fabric store and bought some 40%-off fabric and 30%-off trim. Total cost: $12. A bit pricey for us but worth it (since that's all we spent on the whole kitchen!) The red fabric has some turquoise and yellow flecks in it (that don't show up in the photo) and it's really beautiful fabric. We also bought some upholstery tacks to do the mistreatment. Alas, when we arrived home the tacks were absent. Evidently we left them in the cart and never purchased them. M was sad, but I was determined to finish the project, tacks or no tacks. Who needs tacks or hardware when you've got a hot glue gun and a whole bag of glue sticks? The solution: hot glue the valance to the top of the window trim. To recap, I cut one yard of 58"-width fabric horizontally, hot-glued the frayed ends under as my "hem," hot-glued the top of the valance to the top of the windowtrim, and hot-glued cream-colored pom-pom trim to the bottom of the valance. 

Finally, we rearranged some of her cute coffee wall decor and repurposed some other decor just sitting in her cabinet. The end result: Move over Waffle House, there's a Starbucks in town!

Don't you just want to cozy up in M's nook and have a steamy cup of Cafe Verona? I do. It just goes to show that even dated pine cabinets, peeling walls, and turquoise countertops were no match for our resolve to creatively and frugally make a pretty space.

A few more things. M already had the pretty yellow Tuscan canisters and serving pieces. She also had the lovely red and turquoise serving pieces. These inspired the colors we chose for fabric (as did the afghan.) She also had purchased a lot of coffee-inspired wall decor on e-bay a while back for $9, most of which we used. (M is the best e-bay hound I know.) The little French cafe plaques above the sink were just sitting in her cabinet. The shame! Now they're out and proud. Oh and don't worry that the lovely Tuscan platter perched in the window sill above her sink will fall. It's securely propped up with some tiny nails I hammered in front of it, directly into the sill. 

So, my day gone wrong ended up as a day gone right! It was fun to see M so happy with her cozy kitchen...and it made me feel great to know that I was able to help pretty up her space.

To Thine Own Self Be True

A year ago I had a painful revelation.

For many years, I had been under the false but comforting impression that I was Miss Type A. Organized. Together. Detail-oriented. Ambitious. A list-making, time-managing, efficient, dynamo of a gal.

But as time went by, I was daily bombarded by a perplexing disconnect between my identity and my reality. My home was not organized. I often felt that I was anything but "together." And while I own a label maker and I can spend hours roaming the aisles of Staples and I heart containers, my life does not reflect Type-A-ness.

This disconnect between my identity and my reality was ostensibly easy to explain. I was simply a Type-A who had fallen off the wagon. And there were lots of good reasons for this. Juggling career and family and home. Living with disorganized people (known as children.) Not having a Type-A husband to partner with me in all things orderly and organized.

I was a victim of people and circumstances who did not align well with my needs and goals.

And then the truth just hit me one day. Heavy. Undeniable. Painful to swallow. And even more painful to admit to others.

I am not Type-A. I never was. I was just a wannabe Type-A. I didn't fall off the wagon. I was never on it to begin with. I was just some deluded girl running behind the wagon...sprinting, sweating, breathless, and very determined. But not destined.

Don't get me wrong. I love order. I crave visual peace, especially in my home. I even use my label maker. But for every Type-A-ish attribute, there are 10 characteristics that prove otherwise.

I am usually late. I am very absent-minded. I often can't find stuff. I am very easily distracted. I procrastinate unpleasant tasks. I love to start projects and not finish them if they become un-fun. And I feel guilty of course but not guilty enough to employ the self-discipline I need to complete the not-fun project.

Worst of all, I am a horrible manager of my time. Like when I'm on my way to the bathroom and I pass the computer and decide to just quickly check my e-mail and then it's 45 minutes later and I have forwarded a "get to know your friends" questionnaire that somebody sent me that I didn't have the heart not to do and then I decided to make my bed because it would look prettier and then I am wondering why I've nearly peed my pants and why my children are running wild and my baby is screaming in the high-chair and out of Cheerios.
That is not Type-A. That is Type-ADD.

And while I do not want to be that person, I am who I am. And when I finally accepted it, I felt free. And freedom is a beautiful thing.

You shall know the truth and the truth will set you free. And it did.

Sure, it's disappointing to realize you're not who you want to be. But all that blame-shifting and deluded thinking was exhausting and disappointing. Exhausting because I was always running after that dang wagon and never reaching it. Disappointing because I had an impossible image to live up to. Not to mention that being a blame-shifter makes you unlikeable and cranky because you blame everyone and everything except yourself.

Two funny things happened when I told my husband of this grand revelation. First, I got all self-righteous about my self-actualization, thinking I was brilliant for realizing it and so humble and mature for accepting it. (I'm always amazed at my twisted ability to puff up with pride as I glory in my humility.) Second, my grand revelation came as no surprise to him. He just looked at me and smiled.

And then I knew.

He had known all along.

He is a saint, this man. First of all, he lives with me and has put up with all my junk for over 13 years of marriage. Second, he has never felt the need to point out my flaws. He loves me in spite of them and knows that I'll learn what I need to when I need to.

I wish I could say I've always been the same way with him. (I perfected the art of nag years ago. But thankfully God is overhauling that part of me too.)

As it turned out, everyone knew I wasn't just a Type-A who had fallen off the wagon. Everyone but me.

The joy of freedom, of seeing yourself for who you really are, is that you are then finally free to work on the real issues. No more blaming. No more exhaustion. No more disappointment. Well, not as much disappointment.

So I'm working on being a better manager of my time. On being organized (only in the areas where it really matters.) On a few other personal disciplines I've chosen for this year. And I'm actually making progress. We're making progress. (Because if you read a couple of posts ago, you'll recall that I Got Nothin'.)

So for all you Type-A's out there, I love you. I still sometimes want to be you.

But for all you wannabe's still racing after that wagon, consider this...

Maybe you're not meant to be on the wagon.

To thine own self be true.

I forget who said it, but I've decided I like it. And I'm finally free to live it.

little ol' me?

(Cupcake thanking me for his new room...now if he would just sleep through the night in it.)

Yesterday I got a mysterious call from my brother. He asked if I had visited Nesting Place in the last couple of days. I had not. He urged me to immediately check it out and call him back. (He and his lovely wife love the Nester's ideas almost as much as I do.) And what did my wondering eyes behold? A big ol' shout out from the Nester ya'll! My $10 vintage nursery was featured on her recent Bird Watching post. My stomach had butterflies. My face felt flushed. It was like I was in 7th grade sitting alone in the cafeteria and the popular girl with the cutest clothes came up and told me she loved my outfit. 

So now I feel motivated to keep up the cute outfits...I mean cheap and chic projects. Thanks to all of you wonderful new bloggy friends who left such sweet compliments!