I have not posted about any home improvement projects in while. Not much going on around here on that front. I've had to tread delicately with my husband because when I mention such projects, this is what he hears: "I would like to empty our bank account, invite chaos into our home, and hopefully emasculate you in the process."
I take a pro-active approach to home care, while my husband operates more in the "let sleeping dogs lie," denial, and crisis modes, with perhaps a little passive aggressiveness thrown in.
Blogging is helpful because I can connect with other women who, say, want to move the couch...RIGHT NOW...or rhapsodize on the virtues of Home Goods.
But I'm not really talking about buying a new lamp here.
And I'm not talking about tearing down the wall between my kitchen and living room (although I want to, oh how I want to!)
No, this is about basic personality differences regarding the general upkeep of our home. Take, for example, the landscaping of our property. Just because we had a certain number of bushes when we moved in SEVEN years ago, to my husband it is as if they were ordained by God to be here forever, and any attempt to drastically prune or dare I say remove them would desecrate the sanctity of our 1969 split level.
Inside the house I see crumbling grout and lackluster caulking in our showers. This makes me worry about dreaded water damage. I'd rather fix this now than deal with it later when the drywall is ruined and tiles need to be removed. We have no spare tiles! What would we do?! Crap. Crappity Crap. Unfortunately, a responsible, pro-active homeowner is NOT what my husband sees.
What he sees is a relentless harpie who is inviting trouble. Sure, I may be the same person who tested for and discovered: lead paint, Radon Gas, and asbestos, all of which resulted in a drastic depletion of our bank account, but I'm of the "I'd rather know" school of thought.
Take the rain in our kitchen, which started 3 days after we closed on the house. I kind of wanted to do a little investigating, open up some walls, and see what was causing the leak. He's of the "put a bucket under it be happy when it stops raining" school. This goes along with his generally cheerful attitude about life.
So you can imagine the response he gave me when we were watching a family movie in the basement last week. I started sniffing. "Do you smell mold and mildew?" I asked. Nothing. The kids Shhusshed me. "Tom, this couch smells like mildew. What if we have water problems down here?" Nothing. Then a scathing, "Are you really going to ruin movie night?" kind of a look.
Now Jake has started wheezing and sneezing and I'm pretty much convinced either our house is toxic or he's allergic to our dog. Neither is a welcome thought.
Tom is a little less dramatic about it and just gives him a benadryl.
This got me thinking. Tom doesn't really like to talk about our relationship either, as if discussing problems will make them worse, and not discussing them will somehow keep them from being "real." His way is a lot more pleasant, less painful, and less expensive in the short run. But the long run? Hmmm.
I guess I'm seeing a lot of similarities between our relationship styles and our homeowner styles.
Feel free to discuss.
And BTW, does it surprise you that I was a scab-picker growing up?