Won't You Come In?

ere I sit, back still aching, bored {OK, and stressed} to tears, practicing my favorite real-life-issues avoidance technique of giving my home a makeover for pretendsies. Did you really think I would stop with the outside?! I am, after all, an interior designer. Or I was in another time and place far removed from this one.Whenever people tell me they think my house is cute, I squirm a little bit, partly because I'm bad at accepting compliments, but also because in my mind I can see how great things could look given an unlimited budget.  And, let me tell ya, it's current state just doesn't measure up.  I really try to be grateful for every single thing I have.  I really do because I know it's a lot.  I have everything I need.  My life is not without luxuries, it is true.  But sometimes as I look at the threadbare upholstery on my couches and the filthy carpet up the stairs I can't help but be overcome by the demons of my wants.  The really good thing is that I'm totally OK with the idea of "someday".  Someday my dog won't chew up the living room rug.  Someday my kids will not use the arm of the couch as a napkin.  Someday my house will look something like this:

Or maybe it never will.  Just seeing it on the screen of my computer is almost as satisfying as having the real thing.  Because, let's be honest, that mirrored dresser in the first grouping would be a nightmare to keep clean.  Isn't it pretty though?  *sigh*