Aren't we flattered when our kids take on our interests? There's a part of us all as parents that want a "mini me" from our kids. It validates us a bit, doesn't it?
Until we unleash the beast.
Sunday night I didn't sleep at all. Okay maybe 30 minutes at a time but not much else. Why? Because I was re-arranging furniture and decorating in my head all night. Ridiculous. I had been with my cousin antiquing and junking all day on Saturday kicking up inspiration and then my favorite decorating magazine came on Sunday and that super charged my ideas and by Sunday night I was a crazed maniac ready to stalk Nate Berkus for some help. I finally pulled out my journal and tried to scribble my ideas quickly to a tangible state to let my tiny little mind get some rest.
I limped through my job all day on Monday with the look of a dazed no sleep stupor. I picked up my girl Monday evening to buy school supplies and on the way home decided to throw out an idea to her. Hey, I said, trying not to sound too excited about my idea as to not trigger her growing apathy for anything I get excited about. "Would you like to re-do your room for your birthday present?"
Slowly I looked in the rear view mirror for the response. Would it be the almost 10 year old practicing of the pre-teen angst with that wrinkling of the nose, squinting of the eyes, followed by the articulate, "nah". Or would I get my sweet baby girl who still loves her mama and thinks I'm pretty cool?
I saw a twinkle in her eye and a simple, "really?" with quiet anticipation about what re-do really meant.
When I explained that we could actually paint and buy new bedding and truly change her room, I saw a fire ignite that I knew I would not be able to put out for weeks. I had unleashed the beast.
She began to talk fast with ideas racing and thoughts about how she would move out of the house for a few days while we finished and then she'd come back in with a blindfold and see "the big reveal". She was now almost salivating, "you know mom, like Nate Berkus and Oprah do". I replied, "Of course we can blindfold you."
The questions and ideas raced for 20 more minutes as we drove home. Some were scaring the bajezus out of me and some were unbelievably good. Once home she started talking at this same pace at her father about this plan. He was dazed and confused and saw nothing at all wrong with the brown wall and polka dots I had paid to have done three years ago when we moved in. He's not quite up on the "we get bored quickly" status of a decorators heart. I tried to interject between color schemes and furniture lay out that I had unleashed this beast as part of the birthday plan. He just looked at me with the eyes of a dad that is once again clueless to the workings of a female brain. He's grown accustomed to this finally, so after a couple, "why do you need to change your room" questions, he caved into his silence of smiling and not really listening.
Exasperated that we weren't really understanding her full vision for the project, she went to the next best thing that talking fast couldn't conquer, drawing. She sketched and papers were flying and she was still talking fast. Once I could see the ideas in full color of highlighter pink and yellow I decided she might need some inspiration that wasn't so "custom" (read expensive) so I logged on to the Pottery Barn teen sale and good 'ole Target'. But her idea had already started to crystallize and she was not looking at inspiration, she was looking for the actualization for what she had already created in her mind. I can't tell you how many times I've gone looking for my idea that was brilliant in my brain and didn't exist even on ebay. Poor girl, she has it bad. Just like her mother.
I was starting to fade fast from my no sleep frenzy the night prior and now I was caught up in the same frenzy handed down to my little girl. Once while online she caught me on Facebook and "screamed" -----GET OFF FACEBOOK AND LOOK FOR MY BEDDING! I glanced over at her with the mom look that said, "get a grip little girl or this design party is over". She backed down a bit with a shy embarrassed smile and simply showed me a little number she had found on the iPad trying to get herself off my hook. Apparently decorator addiction carries some of the same unsavory outbursts as crack. At one point she requested hardwood floors. We had to talk about budget and expectations.
Finally in a sigh of exhaustion I went to bed and left her with her dad to dwindle down the frenzy. I awoke this morning to an exhausted girl sleeping on the couch surrounded by design ideas. Just where I had woken the morning before.
Yes, my friends, I have unleashed the beast. My own little mini-me beast. It might be a good time to buy stock in Lowes or Pottery Barn.