domestically challenged.

Until this weekend, one might walk into our apartment and have the following thoughts:

“Sweet baby Moses. How do they live in this?”
“I know Laura said she’s not a decorator, but not even Martha Stewart could help this woman.”
“So, you’re saying you’ve never been on Hoarders?”

It was not a pretty sight for months. And I mean MONTHS. Yes, we cleaned occasionally. Yes, we did our dishes. Sometimes we put up a wall hanging. Aaaaaand 99% of our apartment looked like we just moved in. Embarrassing.

I blame it on being domestically challenged.

I could have learned it. It’s in my genes. My mother has a gift for spatial authority. Every home I lived in felt like putting on your favorite sweater. Comfortable, cute, and worn down in just the right places. Unfortunately, I did not inherit the ability to walk into a home and Pinterest it to death. If I put a picture in a frame and set it on a dresser, I expected a neighborhood parade.

But all that changed this weekend.

Señor and I were struck with a bout of inspiration. It was like all the years of living together in our un-homey apartments and living spaces was pent up and released in an explosion of trips to Michaels, Hobby Lobby, World Market (THE BEST), and Target. We were machines this weekend. We trekked to consignment shops, furniture stores, and anywhere in the Denver metro area that might have a small piece to enhance our home.

We still have more to add (like wall decor…which is terrifying), but I’d say we were pretty successful.


No, your eyes did not deceive you. I actually decorated. And I actually allowed Señor to buy a decorative goose (wife points).

Name suggestions welcome.


3 thoughts on “domestically challenged.

  1. Pingback: burst. | TheStrongOnes

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