Have I ever told you about my brief stint as an interior design major in college? It was all well and good for about a semester, and then I had a startling realization that poo-pooed my plans. Imagine me trying to get my Southern-belled design professor to sign my transfer of major form while she was going on and on about what a talented and potential-laden student I was... I wasn't trying to hurt her feelings, but eventually I had to be honest with her.
"I just realized - I hate details. I mean, I really hate them. If I have to sit still and color, or draw, or refine any more details, I might come undone. It's that serious."
The look of horror on her face said it all. She signed my paper without another word, and I was well on my way to the journalism degree I should have gone with in the first place.
Fast forward to the present. I am married to the most wonderful, artistic, detail-loving man in Texas. Possibly in the United States, to be honest. Details are his signature. His "I love you." And let me just tell you, he is crafting something special for a baby-to-be. Do you have any idea what that means? It means that I, too, am crafting something special for a baby-to-be. And what that really means is that I am sitting at our dining room table, holding my breath for long periods of time, using a brush tinier than what I use for my eyeshadow (ok, let's be honest - I just go ahead and smudge my eyeshadow on with my finger because it takes less time - do you get my drift???) to paint the details on a damask pattern without saying d*** or a** (just trying to keep things classy) because I have a small child running circles around the table while I work. Translation: I have been singing TobyMac songs out loud to keep myself from cussing. It's the sad truth, people.
But because my wonderful husband is an exquisite craftsman, and this project is important to him, I am painting and painting and painting. He wants it to be just right, and that's what matters. So here is what I have realized. In a marriage, there have to be two personalities. One of them has to love details. The other one has to love that the aforementioned person loves details (therefore freeing her up to not fuss with them at all, unless he's working on a large project and needs lots of help...). If both of us loved details, we'd spend a million years on every project and almost never get anything done. So sometimes, I just have to suck it up and love some damask. But more because I love Nate (and a sweet little unborn babe) than for any other reason.