Out with the old.
It’s the American way right?
We are constantly looking for bigger, newer, better stuff. It’s like the Olympics of our lives as
we constantly strive for higher, faster, stronger cars, electronics, homes,
appliances, furnishings, vacations, clothes. You name it, for nearly everything we already have;
something else will inevitably come along begging to be its replacement.
For me, recycling helps fight the urge to over-spend. It is saving us thousands of dollars we
frankly don’t have anyway so you can’t really count it as saved, but it’s the
principal of the thing. My
weakness is decorating. So many
new and updated things I see in magazines tempt me and all those decorating
shows I’m addicted to don’t help either.
So, lately, we’ve been “re-decorating” by “re-purposing”
many things in our home that we already have. The idea is that when you put them in a new place or use
them in a new way it tricks my brain into thinking we have a hip new look and
then I’m happy.
Over the years we’ve re-arranged the furniture in many of the
rooms of our home many times over.
But the itch had never spread to our son’s bedrooms, until
recently. This proves how
desperate I am, since they really don’t understand what all the fuss is
about. I’m pretty sure they would
have been happy to graduate from high school with the same bedspread, covering
the same bed, sitting in the same spot in the same room they have been tucked
into since they were using pacifiers.
But, no! That
simply won’t do and all the talk of re-arranging rooms eventually led my
youngest to suggest that he switch rooms and move into the spare bedroom. “Great!” I thought. “Even better! Now you’re
talking!”
Finally someone else was getting into the spirit of this
mission I’d been solo flying for so long.
Finally a makeover project I could really sink my teeth into and it
wouldn’t cost anything but a little good old-fashioned elbow grease!
Unfortunately, the process to switch rooms included
de-cluttering a room that included year’s worth of collecting rocks, buttons,
football and baseball cards, Legos, coins, school art work and all assortments
of other vitally important treasures.
And there was the small matter of the bed. It was purchased years ago when it was first
discovered the youngster was a collector of stuff for the very purpose of
holding more stuff. So it includes
built in cubbies and drawers and shelves and of course they all had to be emptied
and then taken apart board by board in order to make the journey 15 feet to the
north.
And, upon further review, the guest futon in the other room
wouldn’t make the corner into the new room without another de-construction
project of it’s own.
By noon, all the collections were in bins and boxes and both
beds lay in piles in their appointed new living spaces. My re-decorating partner was losing
enthusiasm, as he was medicating for the anticipated backache that was already
ramping up to extra strength level, and wondering if the fingernail that was
crushed in setting down a heavy load would indeed fall off or just turn black.
I on the other
hand, was virtually high with decorating deliria, I could see light at the end
of the tunnel and the drive to see the finished product; the “after” picture
took over. I pushed through the
final miles like an Olympic-marathoner, re-building, re-arranging, and
re-working the disaster that made up my son’s smaller original room into the
bigger more spacious room that would be his new organized space.
When school was out, my son came home to a room that seemed
fabulous and new, but not a thing in there was actually new. He was thrilled and jumped into his bed
declaring, “This is awesome!”
Cha-ching! All
the payment I needed was collected at that moment. Plus, I thought it was
awesome too. It looked and felt
different and special.
Weeks later there are varying levels of support for my desire
to continue with my ever-emerging plans to update and spruce up what we already
love here in our home by diving into my older son’s living space. I see so much potential, so much
promise, for a great teenage hang out.
Others in my household see the promise of other less appealing
things. And I will admit, there’s
a little work involved since this time I am involving a change in paint color,
and maybe a closet re-vamp. But
hey, the way I see it, we’re saving a bundle.
