I've been painting.
I've wanted to repaint my kitchen since the day I moved in to the house. It has had this horribly busy wallpaper, and I avoided doing anything about it like the plague because I had to strip wallpaper before and I would quite honestly rather have my fingernails removed with hot pokers while simultaneously having a root canal. As if it weren't bad enough, my walls are mostly plaster walls. Wallpaper on plaster. Absolutely heinous that someone would do that to me. Well, I've done the next owner one worse, because I painted over wallpaper on Saturday.
To be fair, I sanded things really well first.
I also painted my dining room a few weeks ago, and next up is the living room and the hallway and probably the master bedroom and the little man's room as well. My daughter's room was the only room we painted when we bought the house, its pink and purple (her choice, not mine) and can stay that way.
Painting adds something extra to help keep the days passing quickly by until SG can come home again, which right now looks to be two days before Christmas for a very quick visit.
In one of our many phone conversations he was talking about the holidays and he made some comment about the company giving the contractors enough time for the holidays to go home even if it wasn't close. "Not all of us live a couple of hours drive away, for crying out loud," he said. "I want to have time to fly home and spend a few days with my wife."
Wife.
HE SAID WIFE.
When my ex and I got married, we had about six months of being engaged. We had been together two years at that point, and I had plenty of time to process the concept of being married and what it really entailed. Being a wife. Having a husband. Being a "we." Having in-laws. And a stepson! And cousins for my kids! And exes and all those family relationships that spring into existence when you bind your lives together.
We've been married a whole 19 days so far, and I'm still not quite used to wrapping my mouth around the word Hu-huh-Husband.
I have to say, its pretty damn awesome.
Not the being apart, part, of course. As you can imagine, being a newlywed with your spouse about as geographically far from you as he can get on the continental U.S. is full of the suck. But awesome in the way of commited, together, not alone on the island anymore, loving someone that much and being loved that much. All the really great kinds of awesome.
Getting used to this is really really cool.
