When we bought it, an old stone house built in 1904, it wasn't in such great shape. We inherited renovations of knotty pine paneling, shag carpet and some sort of plastic, fake tile wall paper in the bathroom. I wasn't really afraid to do anything because I felt it couldn't really get any worse. But then we spent a lot of time living through this:
And it was a long and interesting process. We didn't have bedrooms or a kitchen for months. I spent hours in Lowe's and Home Depot toiling over tiles and light fixtures with the kids. Mostly because we needed those things, but also because there wasn't a house to live in. I walked through the shell of our home with magazine clippings and paint strips and a pained expression on my face. Processes and choices that I thought would be fun and easy became taxing. I over-thought everything. I became terrified of making mistakes.
Eventually the drywall went up. And up. And up.
And there was painting. And painting. And painting. I thought I might never be able to put a nail in this stuff, it took so darn long to get WALLS!
Then there were floors. Lights. And running water.
And then there was fear. What if I mess it up? We are finally at the fun part--decorating and making this house our home. Now I've turned into a wuss. But, there has been a blog series I have followed this month that has really inspired me. I'm trying to jump into the creative juices, but I'm still just wading, really. Sometimes I guess you gotta take baby steps.