Where Are The TV's?

It was about 6 months ago that I finally got Drew to sit down with me, keep his phone in the locked position, and actually watch an episode of my favorite television show, "Fixer Upper". From the corner of my eye, I watched his jaw clenching, as he tried to hide his complete skepticism and boredom from showing on his face. I asked him the typical questions we females ask our beaus in instances like this...

N: "Do you like that shiplap?"

D: "Sure."

N: "That farmhouse sink is gorgeous, I love mine but I wish I would have spent a little more and bought a sink more like that one."

D: "Yeah."

N: "Chip is a nut job. You can tell he's a great guy, though. I bet you five bucks that he's going to show up to the fixer upper with another puppy when he drops off the kids."

D: "Probably."

N: "Do you know what shiplap is?"

D: "Nope."

... *sigh*...

And so, we watched another.

And another. And we continued this process for a few evenings. Every night, we would eat dinner and then return to the couch. Drew would ask me what I wanted to watch, hoping and praying I would cave and allow him to throw on something more his speed... a hockey game... a soccer game... a chess game... anything but Fixer Upper.

The thing is, Drew and I met while working at a bar. When we started out bartending together, I noticed something about him. Drew was meticulous with details. He never missed an empty glass or a spill. Every person who walked into the bar, walked in loving Drew or they walked out loving him if they had not met him before that night. He now claims he was only trying to impress me; to show me his bartending mastery and prove himself worthy of my affections. But, I know it was more than that. Drew took pride in his work. He never showed up to just slack off. He busted his butt from the moment he walked into a shift, until he locked up the bar doors behind him. Whether he was just doing it to impress me or he was doing it because that's how he's wired, I'll probably never know. What I do know is that it worked; I was impressed.

And so, I knew if I could get him to look past the frills and flowery designs, he was a Chip Gaines at heart. The more episodes we watched, the more interest he took in the subject matter, without me having to pull it out of him. He told me that his grandpa was always doing woodworking when he was a kid, and started showing me different designs for outdoor pergolas on Pinterest. I started sharing how I made decisions about my house when I first got it, and showed him Instagram pictures of homes that had style similar to my own.

We. Were. Hooked.

The more we watched, the more ideas we got, and the more Drew wanted to help me create a home that would make me happy. He built me a beautiful pergola in our backyard this past summer as my birthday present, and I think that was when I realized the full capacity of his talents.

This story is nice and all, but it's not my reasoning behind writing this post.

Drew was equally impressed by my design sense, my taste in decor, my knowledge of renovations, etc. This actually ended up making me feel a bit pressured to keep up with everything. New people were coming over to my house; his friends, his family, people from his world, all of whom haven't known me for almost 30 years. People who have known me forever might grant me grace when my home is a pigsty. I think sometimes as homemakers, we can get caught in a web of trying to achieve perfection in the eyes of others, especially when it comes to home presentation. Drew quickly saw how stressed I would get before guests would arrive for parties, for dinner, even just to pick up something small that they may have forgotten during a previous visit. He acted like it was no big deal, that I needed to relax, but I just couldn't. We have 2 large dogs, who shed A LOT. Sidenote: Until you have a dog who sheds, you have no idea how important a good vacuum cleaner is to a home.

And the dishes. THE DISHES. Don't even get me started on the dishes! I have a farmhouse sink... a sink that 30 years ago, people were probably ripping out of their kitchens and throwing in the garbage, only to replace with it something else; something more expensive, that folks at the time just had to have. And yet, I wanted this sink specifically, to help round out my picture-perfect kitchen. So, when dirty dishes accumulate in my farmhouse sink, every inch of my body shudders with disgust.

Let's get real right now. I mean, let's get FO' REAL, FO' REAL.

The morning after I published my first post on here, this is what my beautiful, pretty, magazine-esque, farmhouse sink looked like...

This is how my sink looks 70% of the time. The point of me sharing this (and make sure you're sitting down because this may come as a shock to some of you), is this... no one is perfect.

Try not to let yourself become envious of your friend who's home is always pristine. You have no idea how long she's been nagging her husband to just take the freaking trash out and how much he resents her for it. How many of us get our best cleaning done 20 minutes before guests arrive? I'm raising my hand.

I've been mean to Drew more times than I'd like to admit because of superficial standards that I let seep so quickly into my mind. Does this mean it's ok to live like total slobs? No. I take pride in my home and the work I've put into maintaining it and I will always hold steadfast to that mindset. However, the memories made are more important and make up the true atmosphere of a home, not the curtains.

I'll never forget one night when we were watching Fixer Upper, both with Bud Light cans in our hands, and the episode ended. Drew looked at me and said, "Ok, I liked that one and all, but I just have one question... Where are the TV's? They never have TV's in these homes when they are presenting them. Don't these people watch TV?" I just looked at him, rolling my eyes. But in the back of my mind, I went back to a moment when I was watching the same show with my parents at their house, AND MY DAD MADE THE SAME EXACT STATEMENT.

We all have TV's. They aren't pretty; they are an eyesore. But we all have them.

Don't you ever forget that.