Sometime between birth and the nursing home, we humans do this cool thing called“growing up”. Some of us get jobs, some grow mustaches, and some run away to the circus. Growing up is tricky business. I count myself among the lucky ones who had siblings to make the process more complicated. My siblings may not know what a big deal they are to me. How could I sleep if there wasn’t someone poking my face?
I have found that leaving home has been one of the best things that ever happened to my sibling relationships. Nowadays, Brostuff is the coolest kid I know. I save his texts, I tolerate the NBA to spend time with him, and a hug in public makes me feel like a rockstar. I’m so proud of who he is and I don’t even know when it happened.
Getting to know Seesther again after graduating from our grouchy teenage years has been like gaining a new best friend. This year I became the Seesther-in-law of her terrific husband. Even though he’s a New Mexican, he gets a pass for being the perfect new addition to our family and Seesther’s life. Wedding planning gave Seesther and me the most time we’ve had together in years. We shop together. We laugh together because we are turning into Mom. We cry together when our medication is off. I’ve always felt that she is someone to look up to and someone I never felt pressure to live up to.
Seesther just moved into a hideous house. I mean hideous. The stenciled shutters make you want to cry before you even enter. Last week, we packed up the car with all the paint that would fit in the trunk and made our way to the Land of Enchantment to see what we could do. The situation was difficult to describe. The best I can say is that this home was painted by a..gardener?...garden fairy?....a garden fairy on acid. Baby blue kitchen cabinets led into a laundry room with a border of clothes pins around the whole room. Underneath the pins was a hand-painted pattern of little people hanging up clothes on a line. Great. If you’re 87 and not looking. The master bath was the color of butter from a mad cow with a hand painted picket fence all around the bottom. The real treat was the hall bathroom. You’ve probably seen the wooden trellises used outdoors to grow vines and such. The acid fairy decided to paint one teal and screw it to the ceiling. The absurdities of this house could go on and on.
Lucky for Seesther, her folks know a thing or two about making a house a home. After buckets and buckets of paint, a few nights on the floor, and plenty of goo gone, we left that place in pretty terrific shape. It would be neat if I could give you some home improvement tips, like a step-by-step on how to fill a hole in the wall. However, I mostly stuck to the monkey jobs like priming and, well priming. I’m also pretty good at priming.
I do think I'm fairly good at bringing a little comic effect to the renovation process. I was, however, topped by the New Mexican on one particular night. Seesther, suffering from the after-effects of Christmas music, explained to all of us that she was "wassling". I believe that in this millenium, the phrase is "Here we come a caroling", but to each her own. My music savvy readers should appreciate the following conversation. It went a bit like this:
M: I'm wassling.
K: You're what?
M: Wassling.
K:Every day you're what?
M: Wassling.
Whether your house is featured on HGTV or you had a visit from the acid fairy, I hope that in this new year you are able to appreciate each person who makes your house into a home. Humor the ones you need to tell things to seven times before they remember. Do a couple loads of laundry. Maybe you’re getting ready to move back in with a less than delightful roommate. Maybe there are things you can do to be easier to live with. Whatever your situation, remember the ones who got you here. As you make and break your personal resolutions, take time to be a member of your home team. Remember that home is always inside a hug.
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