Monday, March 19, 2012

There's one movie I will always try to catch if it's on TV.  Now, don't laugh... it's "Under the Tuscan Sun."  Perhaps it's the idea of leaving everything behind to live a life in Tuscany, or maybe I just love how it all comes to a sweet ending where everything has turned out beautifully.  I have seen it probably a dozen times and no one else in the family can stand it anymore.  The room clears quickly when it comes on.

So when we were in the waiting stages of getting into our new house, I had "Under the Tuscan Sun" delusions of how I would approach our home.  In the movie, there is a part where she talks about slowly introducing yourself to the house and taking one room at a time and not hurrying.  I thought "this house is old and needs a slow introduction to us."  I fantasized about deliberate cleaning-off of age-old grime while a bright (yet sentimental) melody played in the background (while perhaps I discovered a painting of the Madonna somewhere hidden in the dirt).  And yes, I'll even go so far as to admit that I was kind of hoping The Butcher would speak in an Italian accent as he fixed the toilet innards that wouldn't stop running...

That sounds SO appealing... but in reality, when you have a husband and three daughters, there is no "taking your time" and no "slowly" anything.  We came crashing into this house like a tornado... hurricane force winds sweeping through every stinking room leaving a path of pink litter dotted with Polly Pockets, Littlest Pet Shops and holiday-themed pencils (why do I have SO many stinking Halloween pencils?!).

The cleaning was not slow and deliberate - it was more like Dessert Storm's "Shock & Awe" movement (I know I am probably mixing my military metaphors, but just go with it)... with my mother's voice in my head about filth and grime as I scrubbed the bathroom floor for hours.  And looked forward to scrubbing other floors, and windows, and walls, and...

And now I sit, a week and two days after "moving in," with cardboard boxes in corners, the Swiffer Sweeper propped up against the wall, and St. Patrick's Day pencils on the living room floor. 

I guess there's one thing I know for certain... my life is not a movie, but I'm pretty sure a soundtrack would make this mess look better.

No comments:

Post a Comment