Dreamers are DIYers

The other day, we painted the doors.

It was a project that needed to be done and has been a long time coming.  We installed several new doors about a year and a half ago.  They were on sale and we found enough to make a dent in our door upgrade project.  It's incredibly costly to replace all the doors in a house.  You never realize how many doors you have until you start figuring out the costs to replace them.

So, these doors come primed, but they simply seem to attract dirt.  Strange, because none of us ever actually look dirty.  And that's why they need to be painted.  We go with high gloss white.  It's so easy to clean up and it matches the molding we aspire to next.  Oh, we're big dreamers.

All I know is that we managed to get the exterior garage door, closet door, hall door, bathroom door and back door painted.  Whew.  The fact the air conditioner was once again on the fritz didn't help anything.  I was seriously contemplating climbing in the fridge for a few minutes.  The only reason I didn't, besides fear of death, was that it was going to take too much effort to clear enough space for me.

And because we hate painting, it started off as a team project.  Then Sam told me that I could finish since he had hung them.  It was a valid argument.  Even when I reminded him what a lousy painter I was, he still didn't back down.

Sam: Know how much I hate painting?  I don't even care if you drip on the doors.  I can't paint another door.

Oh, but he caved for me.  I collapsed on the floor at his feet in front of the fan at one point.

me: My hand hurts.  And my wrist hurts.  And I'm hot. And I'm hungry.

Without saying a word, he got up and painted the frame of the bathroom.  I peeked and saw him starting.  Then I laid back down to recuperate.  That was only the halfway point.

Sam: Okay, I painted the frame and the front.  You do the back and the back door.  Then we're done.

These are the ways I know I'm loved.  He helps me out.  All the time.  He cleans more around the house.  He even says the words.

I think that may be our biggest accomplishment of all.  He would never say 'I love you.'  He feared being so vulnerable and exposed.  He had been disappointed before by so many other females.

Then there's me.

I made it safe.  I gave him security.  I love him unconditionally.  It makes all the difference in the world.

So when he leaves for work and I walk over and throw myself in his arms, he is no longer afraid to respond.

me: I love you.  Have a great day, baby.

Sam: I love you back.  You, too.

I'm just going to sit back and revel in all the positive changes for a moment.  Tell me all the good things in your life.  Happiness is meant to be shared.