Wallpapering the Oasis
Personality tests and “strength” assessments have revealed that in addition to being highly judgmental, I’m an Achiever which means, basically, that I must complete a certain number of tasks each day or I’ll become unpleasant. Motherhood has complicated this tendency. I start each day with a mental list of objectives and by 11:00pm or so, when I’m exhausted and useless and Kea is catching her second wind (yes, being outlasted nightly by an infant does put a bit of a strain on my self-esteem) I’ll find that I’ve accomplished perhaps 40% to 70% of the items on my list.
I try to be graceful in my failures. I rationalize; time spent with Kea is hardly time wasted – I’m expanding her mind and teaching her how to be a human being. More honestly, I spend much of the day determining what, exactly, she’s chewing on and which contaminants might be leaching into her system at any given moment.
I’ve learned to cope by tackling projects that can be segmented into nap-length intervals. I’ll compromise and take short cuts – if my shoes are peep-toe, only the visible toenails get painted. Projects that rightfully should consume a day or at most a weekend now stretch on for weeks. The wallpapering of the closet doors in the guest bedroom is a perfect example. I’ll admit I have experimented with wallpaper before (Once! In college! There was so much pressure to try new things!) but this is the first time I’ve attempting wallpapering in a house I own and care about. Wallpaper is the really perfect hobby for me – it combines the borderline neurotic attention to detail I apply to present wrapping with the hobby knife/metal ruler skills I developed while learning how to architecture at Clemson. These skills turned out to be mostly useless in my post-graduate life so I’m happy to have an outlet.
As part of the old house, the guest bedroom is poorly insulated so we keep the door shut. Occasionally, I’ll step in, reveling in the quiet and the chill and the scarcity of toys strewn about. Everything matches but not overly so. It started with an antique iron bed frame and expanded to brocade linens and botanical prints. The perfect black, distressed dresser gleaned from Craigslist. The mercury glass candlesticks and baroque mirror. It smells like beeswax candles and lemongrass and clementine. When actual guests stay with us, I feel a tiny bit violated – it is my room.
Slowly I’m perfecting my oasis. One of the last remaining eyesores were the closet doors. Sad, common things with all the personality of a suburban strip mall. It took me four weeks, working here and there and now my doors are complete!
