I’m always a little overzealous with the Spackle.

The less is more philosophy sort of goes out the window and I find myself not only covering up unsightly cracks or holes, but trying to get the wall back to it’s original state. My enthusiastic efforts usually create patches.  I overdo it and then I have to back up, sand, clean up, and sand some more.

Patches are tough, evidence of a mistake.

At the beginning of a project, I am certain I can restore the wall to it’s original glory.  I start slow, secure the mesh, and proceed with patience, easy does it.  But then things get out of hand.  It doesn’t work, look like the picture, or my original pretty smooth wall.  In my frustration, I keep adding layers, repeating steps and hoping.

We recently purchased a new television.  Our old one had surround sound and these stupid speakers mounted around the room.  It never worked properly, it was a mistake, and I was glad to be rid of it.  Michael suggested that we wait to remove the old speakers.  We weren’t in a hurry since the new one was working, maybe wait until we were ready to paint.

I didn’t want to wait.  I wanted the walls fixed now.  I wouldn’t be able to truly enjoy our new fangled sound bar with messy walls.  I went to Home Depot, the holes and random plastic boxes had to go.  Clean, clutter free, as if the surround sound mistake had never happened.

But, I went nutty again this weekend.  There are now four fluffy Spackle clouds floating through my family room. They are very swirly and textured, but no matter how much I sand them down, they won’t blend, they refuse.  At some point I’ll have to give up and just paint over the slightly different patches.

I don’t know why this reminds me of my children, but it does.

Perhaps I overspackled them too.  They’re not new, they’ve lived some life, and now no matter how much I discuss or lecture, or yell, or love, or shine them up, no matter how many layers I add, they are still patched.  I can see a difference from the new original, smooth wall.

There are times this makes me sad.  I want to undo things for them, remove the original hole all together, but today this occurred to me…

Those patches, the areas that look a little different.  The parts that are scared, maybe overspackled, are also stronger, reinforced in their repair.

Original walls are pretty, but patched walls have spots, where if you run your hand over them, or try to sand them down, you can feel the strength, see the extra layers put on for just in case.

Patches hold.  They don’t budge, reopen, risk jeopardizing the whole wall.

They will need that.

My thoughts from the laundry room.  Turning In.

acceptance children courage family hope life meaning Motherhood Parenting children coping life love Parenting thoughts