Picture (Im)Perfect

This was the weekend that I said "No More" to our decoration procrastination...

 

  Last year, before MW was born, I bought two wooden shelves to put up into the girls room. These wooden shelves have been the BIGGEST source of conflict. If I had only known how much of a headache these shelves were going to be I would have NEVER NEVER NEVER brought them home. After three months of nagging asking Tad, they finally got painted five months later...When I 'politely' pointed out they were obviously the wrong color they were repainted two months after that. Four months later (Sunday) they were found in the garage collecting cobwebs. My anger reignited and I decided I today would be the day they would get put up.

  I started devising a plan that would ensure this would happen...while my thoughts were stirring, I decided I also wanted this closet full of frames I had hung as well. As I sat with three shelves (an additional one I bought at IKEA) and 8 picture frames in front of me I conspired a scheme came up with a plan. I went into the garage and got a hammer, a tape measure, some nails and grabbed a shelf. I walked into the living room and announced that I was going to do some decorating today. Tad took one look at the hammer and quickly said "Oh, here let me help you". Don't be deceived by his helpful comments. He only offered to help because whenever I get out a hammer, Tad has to get out the putty to fill in the numerous holes I put in the wall. I handed him over all the equipment and he got to work while I supervised and interjected all my thoughts on placements, furniture rearrangements, and perhaps redecorating the whole house. Tad rolled his eyes and hammered away.

  Three shelves, and eleven pictures later(yes, 8 turned to 11 when I decided to rearrange where I had previously hung other pictures) we were in our bedroom with the last three pictures (now we are at 14). I wanted them hung above the bed, I quickly showed him which order to hang them and I left the room. When I came back the look on my face showed pure disappointment. Tad gave me one look and said "What now?" With one rather large sigh, I explained that the pictures were not spaced out correctly...his response - "It will grow on you". As I went to move the picture I found a large smudge on the wall where Tad had scratched the frame. There was no fixing this error until we repainted the whole room...I sat and sulked...as usual. 

  It is crazy to me how crazy I can get when one thing doesn't go my way; I chalk it up to being a woman. My mom would chalk it up to being a Milam, being anal retentive seems to be genetic trait.  I like things done a certain way and when the slightest thing is off, the whole day is a dissapointment. But it doesn't end at just ruining my day, it calls out to me - mocking me every time I cross it's path...putting me in a horrible mood all over again.

  

How does this not look ridiculous?