Living the Dream

How many times per day, on average, do I have some version of this conversation in my head?:

"Who are these kids and what will I do with them for the next 9 1/2 hours??? If only they would be . . . somewhere else for a little while. Then I would be able to __________ so easily."

I estimate 2-3 times per day, on a good day. And here I am, this week, "living the dream," as Sarah might say. They really are somewhere else. In spite of that, life is not tripping along quite as merrily as I had fantasized. Turns out, accomplishing projects is still frustrating even when you aren't dragging 2 small people around town with you.

Yesterday, for example, I stopped at Rivertown Crossings on my way home from class to FINALLY purchase a curtain rod for my kitchen window. (The curtain itself has been made since, oh, April, but does Target or BB & Beyond carry any sort of remotely correct-length/appropriate-color rod for a normal price? No.) So, I'm at Restoration Hardware - a store I have all but banned myself from because the prices there make my eyes hurt - and do they have the rod? No. I go to Pottery Barn, where the girl takes 20 minutes of digging through the back room to find the one I ask for. It's $79.00. But, hurray! I'll finally hang that damn curtain!

As I'm checking out, I say to another salesperson, "Now, you're SURE that this is the 48-88 inch rod, right?" Yes, yes, she checks; it is.

I take it home. Jason brings out the drill. We open the curtain rod, prepare to drill holes into our wall, and . . . the curtain rod is too short. It is 28-48 inches. We decide to just drill into the molding around the window so that the 48" will be sufficient. Holes are made, brackets are hung, and we tack the curtain up on its rings. It looks horrible. Whole sections of top-of-the-window are visible above the fabric. It really needs to go into the wall. We take the brackets down, Jason spackles the holes in our woodwork, and I pack the short rod back into its box to be returned. Curtain status: still not hung.

Other projects went better: Annie's room has been transformed. I took her bedrail down because it's been ages since she's even seemed like she might fall out, turned her bed to another wall, vacuumed every inch of her carpet and moldings, bought a beautiful light pink drum table for a nightstand, assembled a new Target lamp, reorganized her books, and installed pink glass pulls on her dresser drawers. I am going to frame a painting she did and hang it on one sad wall that has been all empty for almost 2 years. I hope she will like it.

There have been moments of satisfaction. We've hung new pictures, a montage of art objects by the back door, wall vases in the dining room, and a mirror above our dresser. Today, I bought some gorgeous red hypericum berries and huge white hydrangeas at the Holland farmer's market. I got to listen to part of a hysterical interview with Riann Wilson on Fresh Air on my way home today. Jason and I went to Leo's for dinner (buy one, get one coupon) last night. And I drank my coffee out on the front steps this morning, all by myself.

But having the girls gone isn't really the be-all, end-all I thought it would be. Since Annie's been born, I've blamed having children in the house for my horrible insomnia. Then, last night, I was inexplicably unable to fall asleep until after 2:00 a.m.!!!! I had been writing just before bed, and my brain could not shut itself off. So I guess the sleep issues are my OWN issues, after all. Not to mention, I miss the girls. A lot. I talked to Annie this morning in a wide-ranging conversation about oatmeal, newborn puppies, the library, her cousins, and raspberries in the garden. She sounded normal; she sounded happy. She sounded amazingly grown-up and I can't wait to see her on Sunday. Between now and then, I am going to give myself some more space to relax (enough with the projects!) so that I can be rested and ready for their return.