My Restless Mind

As you can see, my blog is now different. It's very bright. I am not exactly thrilled with what I have done, but I do like it better than what I started with. I've got a few things left to do to feel satisfied, but I've decided this is my new "summer look." I was trying to explain to Travis why this was so pressing to me and why I was so intent on changing things up. When we first got married, he would have never understood what I meant. Now, almost 5 years later, he totally gets me. Well, maybe not "gets me" but he graciously "puts up" with me and doesn't make me feel weird. Although I know I am. And he knows it too. But he wisely leaves it unspoken. You see, this need for constant change is nothing new...

Before I ever decided to major in Interior Design, I had the mind and the creative need for it. Just ask my parents. I spent countless days and lots of summers, totally re-arranging everything in their house. Lucky for me, they were both great at letting me try new things and letting me experiment with their furniture and their rooms. I can't tell you how many times they left for work in the morning and when they got home at night, the house looked completely different. I think about that a lot and how I would react if my kids did that to me...I think I would have a fit! But they never did. They just always got this look on their face like, "Here we go, she's at it again." I remember them always asking for an update about where things are kept now and I would very proudly explain the new system and why it was superior to the last one. I still do this to them. If I am home, and we are not planning someone's wedding, I am most likely helping them re-decorate, re-arrange, or clean something. I'd like to think it's my spiritual gift. My poor Mom knows that no visit home is complete, without me walking around and changing something. She just expects is now and even prefaces statements by saying, "I know you're probably going to change it, but I thought this looked good in..." And it usually does. But I still usually tweak it a little. I just have to.

When Travis and I got married, I think he must have died the first time I told him, "I cannot sleep tonight with the living room looking like this, so we've got to change it." I distinctly remember the look on his face in those early days. A look that said, "Are you kidding me right now? You think I'm going to do that?" Me, being a new bride of course, would get completely upset at his lack of motivation and his obvious disrespect for my feelings and I'd launch into a 20 minute discourse about why I was right and how he could not possibly care about me if he was unwilling to agree that the current angle our couch was facing was not creating an inviting atmosphere in our home. I mean the nerve of him to suggest it was!!

I'm pretty sure we almost came to blows a few times until both of us realized that we were going to have to figure this out. He recognized that I really was crazy and determined to do it, with or without his help, and I realized that while perhaps I was right, it was probably best not to insist on an immediate change or to demand his help. I learned to do as much as I could, without asking if he cared (he never did), and then to ask him nicely for his help with just one or two things. It seemed to go much better this way. I lovingly explained my reasons for turning the house upside down and he patiently listened and even agreed with me, most of the time. But I also got smarter and began to recognize the feeling behind "that look" he would give me when I mentioned my big plans...I knew when he was going to be a willing participant and I also knew when I should suggest that he call a friend and spend the day at the golf course. Some jobs were just going to be frustrating and there was no sense in getting two of us involved if I could do it alone.

I'm happy to say that with every year and every move, Travis is starting to see me more like my parents do. He now knows that I need to get my creative outlet somehow and often that means re-arranging something. Sometimes it's furniture or bedding or a new paint job, but this weekend it was my blog. He doesn't fight with me or argue with me anymore (I think he's given up). He just listens to me rant, and rave, and reason, and then he smiles, gives me a kiss on the cheek and says, "Good luck with that...Let me know when you're done or if you need help...I'm going to call (insert name here) and see if they want to go golfing."

And I love him for that.