Painting

We were sitting on the back deck finishing up dinner just last night and my daughter noticed the paint still on my hands from the previous night and offered her advice, You can use a nail brush and scrub that off. I told her I already had, You should’ve seen them before.

That about sums up our life in a fixer upper.  I’m sure people who come to our house cringe. And wonder what we were thinking to move from a new-construction house to one from 1984 needing an overhaul.  What a mess.  Why don’t they get rid of some of this junk? Why don’t they fix their floor, their door, their porch, their screens, their driveway, their road, their stairs, their bathrooms? Why does it stink? When are they going to do something about the big metal shop?

But I’d love to point out how far we’ve come in the year and a half we’ve lived here.  I wish I could hang before and after pictures near every improvement we’ve made: Look at these closet doors. I know you can’t tell, but Todd replaced them with new white ones.  We painted: this room used to be bright blue, the living room used to be peachy brown.  And so were the bedrooms. I want to remind everyone who wonders that we have taken lots of trailer loads of junk to the dump, we are working on the floors, and we are trying to get new windows and doors.  I want to explain that we’re in the middle of landscaping, which is why there are piles of dirt and wood chips on our driveway.  We’re also trying to paint our house, which is why the radio and ladders and roller are all still out; we’ll just be using them again tonight. Todd needs to insulate the shop before he can set up his work bench and hang cabinets, which is why we have random cabinets sitting in the middle of the shop floor and general untidiness.  We’re waiting to get wood this summer, which is why our floors look a little odd right now.  We love our dogs and have had a few that have come to visit, which is why our year-old carpet already has stains and the rugs are chewed up.  We do have plans for the bathrooms, but we make do for now.  We realize the toilet’s crooked when you sit and that you have to reach behind you for  toilet paper; we’ll get there.  And yes, we know how outdated our laundry room is, don’t mind the mismatched cabinets; believe us, it looks better already.  We have so many good ideas, but we can’t implement them all at once.  We have limited resources and simply can’t hire it all out.  We have to pace ourselves because Todd still has a full-time job and I’m helping the kids get around.  Plus, things tend to unravel and set us back. There always seems to be a lawn mower that needs some kind of attention.  The sprinklers have caused unnecessary headaches.  Our garden is pathetic despite our best efforts with extra watering and fertilizer.  The weeds need spraying, the pastures need irrigating, and the cows had to be moved across town.  It’s not like we’re just taking time off from life to work on a house full-time.

But look! Todd’s put up fencing, made garden boxes, got the wood for the foundation of the greenhouse, laid down flooring in the sun room and made new stairs. His dad helped make a wood shed, and look at how full it is! We’ve painted three sides of the house, our raspberries (at least) are flourishing, and we finally found some furniture to fill up our living room.  Can’t you see how far we’ve come?

It’s sweet to hear compliments on our kitchen.  I forget sometimes that some of our friends haven’t seen it yet, and I’m always surprised at their comments.  But I love to show them our house book with pictures of what it started out like. It’s nothing spectacular, just a regular kitchen that fits our style.  But without that comparison, without remembering what it used to look like, it’s easy to just take it for granted, to forget to note how much improved it is.

I think we tend to forget this principle in our own lives and in others.  We so often call ourselves out for not being where we think we should be at this stage of our lives, for not being more at this age.  But it’s imperative we look back and recall all that’s transpired.  There was a time when I had no idea how to work a grill or a lawn mower or a trimmer or a gas oven.  I was an adult before I learned any of that—and it was only last month I learned about a trimmer!  I was married before I’d made anything with yeast or created any sort of pie.  I never painted a room in my life until we moved here 18 years ago and bought our first house.  I still feel ignorant about most of history, but as I look back on the lists of books I’ve read, I realize I’ve gleaned a fair amount from my varied selections over the years.  I didn’t have much Bible background as a kid, and even though I still get lost in all the begat verses, I’m more familiar with scripture characters than I used to be.

I think we’re all that way.  I love seeing how comfortable Todd is as a vet now compared to when I dropped him off for his first day of work over 18 years ago.  I can’t get over how much more intuitive parenting is now than when I was 24.  I can see already how much better Callum’s driving has become even in the two weeks that we’ve been practicing.  Think of all the skills and habits that have become almost effortless over the years, writing in cursive, making cookies, saying thank you, speaking in public. 

But why do we fail to acknowledge how far we’ve come over the years? And why are we still occasionally forgetful and hard on ourselves?  And even others?

Instead of celebrating our milestones, we’re more likely to nag, Why I can’t lose that last little bit of tummy weight, why do I still mess up dinner, why is sewing still so laborious, why didn’t I know about that part of history?  But I need to remember I’ve had five babies and at least I eat more salads than I used to.  When I first got married I had no idea how to cook.  I’m still not that great at sewing, but I’ve made a few pretty quilts that we all use for naps. And I read.  I’m trying to learn about all the things I’ve missed along the way.  I’m working on it. And so many things. As I know we all are.

As I was sitting in the temple the other day, I was so vexed with my hands. I tried to hide my fingers, folding them under each other and away from view.  I wanted to explain to the ladies around me how hard I’d tried to get them clean. I know you can’t tell, and it looks like I didn’t even try.  But you should’ve seen them before; they look so much better now.

Maybe we need t-shirts, maybe bumper stickers? Something to remind us to note how far we’ve all come. Not so we can judge more accurately, but so we can love more unconditionally.

Because while our house is still pretty much a mess and I still feel a little awkward in some social settings; while I still struggle with being a mom (especially as we continually forge new territory) and I still get lost when we’re talking about geography, I try to remind myself that I’m making headway.  I’m not as shy as I used to be.  I’m not as stressed with my kids as I used to be.  And there’s not as much paint on my hands as there used to be.  I’m getting there.