Ups and those other things

I'm having a bit of a turbulent week. We're in the process of having our asbestos-laden retro popcorn ceilings scraped, textured, and repainted. If you haven't tried this before, go for it! It's fun! Just move all of your earthly possessions, wall-hangings, curtains, and whatnot into the very small spaces that weren't sprayed to looking like a woolly coat. Then continue to live in those small spaces while all work is completed. Oh, and if you're looking for the bathroom, it's the big red bucket in the garage.

You mean that doesn't sound like fun? Well, you're right, sort of. It's not fun. It's not easy. It's certainly not convenient. But we are lucky to have big enough small spaces to make it work, and wonderful grandparents who will host the kids for a week while it's done. And we're blessed to have enough money to put a little into our beloved home. I kept my eye on the prize: pristine hand-textured, non-cancer-causing ceilings. I can already tell, post-scraping, that it's going to look marvelous.

I can also tell that the ceiling scrapers didn't tape their plastic well enough. I know this because their water got underneath and now my pristine, beautiful, ever-so-well-loved-as-our-best-home-improvement-ever laminate floor (the one the inspired this favorite post) is bubbling everywhere. There is no fixing this, short of replacing the swollen boards, and there's a lot of them.

My heart hurts, as we say in our house. But even with this--the impending arguments with the flooring company, the turmoil as we will once again be uprooted from our house, the frustration at trading one problem for another--I try to appreciate the bright side. What? There's no bright side? Nonsense. God came that we have life abundantly, and that means relishing in the up times and also relishing in whatever comes between. Already I have called the project manager and very patiently explained what happened and asked what we do next. This is a huge thing for me: shy, shirking me. And I am proud that I stood up and did it. And if I can do that, then I can pick myself and my hurting heart up and march forward, onward and, hopefully, eventually upward. In the end, this too shall pass, as everything, good or bad, does. And when it does, I will hopefully be able to see the character-building that took place. It's so easy to see after the fact, as with the cake, that I'm proud of myself too for seeing it now. It's actually when I need it most.

And it's not all bad. I have a weekend with B, the kids are having fun with their grandparents, and we got to hear my favorite band play for 2.5 fantastic hours. Plus I learned something: you should always keep your razor in a case. Or, if not, at least remember that when your toothbrush won't come out of the overnight bag and you think maybe you should pull really hard, DON'T. It could be stuck on said un-cased razor, which is apt to take off a hefty strip from the top of your index finger when you pull. Yes, let's say it altogether: ouch.