• Things I Should Warn You About

shenrydafrankmann

~ Hopeful honesty from simple sentences

shenrydafrankmann

Monthly Archives: January 2017

Paint My Wagon, Buddy

24 Tuesday Jan 2017

Posted by shenrydafrankmann in Uncategorized

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

house cleaning, humor, life

It’s all over but the shouting, people.

My dad used to say that a lot.  He would come through the front door of our house, dirty and scummy, a broad grin pasted on, those satisfied words exclaimed as if he believed the day would never come.  Dad built a lot of houses, all in his free time mind you, because construction was not his real job.  After the past few months, I understand a little more why he said that.  I witnessed my weary father push through his building projects, courageously laboring until almost near the end, when he always seemed to catch a second wind in order to finish those last few projects.  That is where I am at right now.  With nearly every wall but one inside the house painted, I can taste victory.  I am almost there.

It’s a good thing.  Paint fumes have nearly destroyed my brain.  Two months or more of painting will do that to you.

I can’t say that I totally hate to paint.  If interior house painting was simply opening a can of paint, dipping the brush or roller in the can and wildly slapping it on, I might say it was fun.  Heck, maybe some nude painting might be a trip.

Wait, cleaning the paint off afterwards might be a little tricky.  There also is that thing about taking down all window coverings to paint.

That’s really what causes interior house painting to be tedious — the prep work.  Walls have to be washed, curtains and hardware removed, pictures and fasteners removed, holes spackled, major damage patched and sanded, dark walls and water spots primered, trim and ceilings taped.  By the time prep work is finished, I am too tired to enjoy the painting.

The reward is usually the finished job.  A few of the rooms painted the past few weeks look outstanding.  I am good or so I think until I look at the shoddy work done in other parts of the house.  The shoddy ones are usually the rooms that I was either wobbly tired or high on paint fumes (or both).

fb_img_1485136833405Evidence of fatigue shows up when it comes time to put some of the hardware back on the wall.  For instance, this towel rack I put back up late last Sunday night.  I took a step back to admire my handiwork, musing for a few moments before I realized something.  And I also realized that it was time to quit for the evening.

If I really put my beautiful nose to the grindstone (I am idiom saturating today), the house could be ready to list by next week.  At most, it’s going to be two weeks.

And then the real work starts.

Of course, the new place will likely need to be painted and fixed up….

 

Humor Me

14 Saturday Jan 2017

Posted by shenrydafrankmann in Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

divorce, family, personal

Keeping my sense of humor during this time of transition in my life is a challenge.  I used to think that nothing would dull my ability to laugh at life, whether it be sickness or trial, and for the most part that has been the truth.  This has not been a time of wailing, depression, or extreme loneliness — those times came before.  The challenge comes in maintaining the proper motivation for life, pushing through, staying strong, doing what needs to be done.  Even more of a stretch is recognizing what this whole divorce situation is doing to my family, how they are handling it, and deciding how I should react.

That might be the most difficult challenge.  Already aggressive and angry before my wife and I headed towards divorce, his anger was magnified by the announcement.  It’s tough for him watching the house literally and figuratively being dismantled, prepared for sale and the finality of what certainly means an end to life as he knows it.  I get it.  I feel for him.

That said, I have to carry on, keep working on getting the house ready to sell, despite his protests and his lashing out.  A week ago, last Saturday, I began preparing our living and dining rooms for painting, took down pictures and patched and taped the trim.  The living room is where my son retreats when he gets tired of playing video games in his bedroom, even has taking to sleeping on the living room couch most nights (which I do not like).  After working all day and evening last Saturday, I plopped on the couch and settled in to watch a movie, the second installment of the Rambo series.  Just as Rambo started getting into it with the bad guys, a perturbed male voice announced behind me — CHANGE THE CHANNEL, I WANT TO WATCH THE FOOTBALL GAME.  I was tired, drained, and not ready for the conflict that had just been thrust at me.  On top of that, I can’t think of a time in recent history where my son has not done exactly the same thing to me.  I rarely get to watch more than ten minutes of a movie before my son enters, demands the channel be changed, or snatches the TV remote to change the channel.

This time I refused.  I told him no.  When he started to fight me about it, I stood up.  Immediately, I had a large 17 year old boy swinging at me and connecting.  I yelled at him, told him to stop and think about what he was doing.  When he started swinging at me again, I knocked him to the floor, slapped him on the arm, backed up and told him to leave me alone.  He didn’t.  He jumped up and tried to tackle me, then when he failed to do that ran out in bare feet and shorts to the garage, where he grabbed a hammer from my workbench.  Stomping back across the garage, he announced to me that he was going to use the hammer to put holes in the walls inside the house.  I stopped him.  He swung the hammer at me halfheartedly, then threw it against the inside of the garage door.  Retreating to my workbench, where my mountain bike was also parked, he stood on the carpet there, threatening to find a tool to use to wreck my bike.

He stood there for two hours, barefooted and in shorts.  It was 7 degrees outside.  I stood inside the house, asked him to come inside and talk about what was going on, told him I was sorry for what is going on, explained that nothing he could do would change the situation.  Any damage he would do would only make the situation worse.  My son pleaded with me, don’t sell the house.  It has to be sold, I told him.

He’s angry.  I get it.  So am I, for that matter.  He’s also trying to control, using the divorce as another excuse to be aggressive.  I get that too.

At one point, I called 911 but hung up before they answered (it rang 3 times without an answer).  I didn’t want to deal with a son who was frostbitten.  I didn’t want to have to fight him, which he was challenging me to do.  I didn’t want my mountain bike to be damaged, a prize to me in more ways than one.  And I was too tired to deal with the situation for much longer.  I feigned a call to his mother, who was out with friends.  I called a friend, who at 11:30 PM had already gone to bed.  My only real choice, besides asking the law to intercede, was to wait it out.

Eventually she came home, nearly two hours into the standoff, just as I had reached my breaking point and had started yelling at him to get inside the house.  Hearing me yell, she immediately blamed me for the entire situation.  He’s obviously distraught, she exclaimed, so leave him alone.  I wasn’t going to leave until he did, even as they both berated me for loving my precious bicycle more than them.  After another half hour of standoff, he agreed to leave my bicycle alone if we would leave him alone.  We did.  He came inside, instantly charged me as he came through the door, swinging at me again.  I left, went upstairs, shut the bedroom door behind me and locked it.  It was 12:30.  The conflict had started nearly at 9 PM.

The next morning, when I came home from church, my wife insisted that I finish painting the downstairs rooms and hallway by the end of the day.  She didn’t offer to help.  It was all my fault.  I was wrong for what had happened the night before, needed to be more sensitive to our son.  While I agree with her that he is more sensitive right now, she did not agree with me when I said that he was also trying to take advantage of the situation.  There needed to be a balance.  Instead of backing him up, for a change she needs to support me and not instantly defend him.. for once.  Just because we are getting a divorce does not mean that she does not need to support me.

And so it goes.

I can’t get out of the house fast enough.  This needs to be over.  That was my prayer at 12:30 last Saturday night (or early Sunday morning).

It does suck to be me, enough that it’s almost comical.  The money that I was hoping to use to start the divorce moving was sucked into a car repair, to the tune of $1600 a week ago, with $160 added for a rental car.  Yep.  December 31, my VW decided to rebel.  Maybe it’s angry with me, too?  I only have to laugh.

I have finished painting downstairs, start painting the stairwell and upstairs hall today.  New windows will be installed in the upstairs master bedroom this Wednesday.  New carpet has already been installed, powder room tile regrouted, kitchen cabinets restored, trim replaced, doors rehung, outside of the house cleaned and repaired.  I’m close, probably 2-3 weeks away from the house being ready to list.

I’m trying to be patient.

Until then….

Dumpling

06 Friday Jan 2017

Posted by shenrydafrankmann in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Why don’t you make chicken and dumplings tonight for dinner?  Nate really likes your chicken and dumplings.

My wife texted me late this afternoon, informing me that she is working late, a not so rare occurrence these days.  What is even more rare is for our family to eat dinner together.  What is even more rare is for our son to actually eat what is cooked for dinner. I am a very good cook, but it really doesn’t matter.  Unless my daughter is home, I am going to eat alone.  Meal planning was never my wife’s forte even when she was a SAHM, a precedent that has carried over into the present.

I made the dumplings any way.  I like them.  They are a light version of a standard recipe.  If you don’t mind messing with making the dumplings from scratch, then it’s an easy dish to prepare.

Nate came home from playing tennis with his friends at the club.  Did he eat the dumplings?  No.

I can’t wait until this divorce is final.  I can’t wait until I can plan meals and not worry about anyone else.  The spoiled child is living with his mother.

Yes, I really do say these things

  • My Father is Yacky
  • Image Bearer
  • Evening Ramble
  • Exposure of the Indecent Kind
  • Just Say Gnome

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Categories

My brain hurts with you

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Blogs I Follow (and maybe even read)

  • glennkaiser.com
  • There and Bach Again
  • Dean
  • Southern Georgia Bunny
  • The Rambling Biker
  • Storyshucker
  • Ah dad...
  • Squeeze the Space Man's Taco
  • I didn't have my glasses on....
  • kidscrumbsandcrackers
  • longawkwardpause.wordpress.com/
  • Cycling Dutch Girl
  • The Shameful Sheep
  • Blog Woman!!! - Life Uncategorized
  • Life in Lucie's Shoes
  • Fit Recovery
  • lifebeyondexaggeration
  • Globe Drifting
  • I AM TOM NARDONE
  • Cathy's Voice Now

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glennkaiser.com

There and Bach Again

a teacher's journey

Dean

Marketing major. Outdoor sports lover. San Diego living.

Southern Georgia Bunny

Adventures of an Southern Bunny everything from dating, sex, life and shake your head moments.

The Rambling Biker

Roaming & Rambling in search of MTB Stoke

Storyshucker

A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.

Ah dad...

I need the funny because they're teenagers now

Squeeze the Space Man's Taco

A journey into Cade's world

I didn't have my glasses on....

A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.

kidscrumbsandcrackers

Kids - I`m like the old woman who lived in a shoe - Crumbs, my house is full of them - Crackers, Im slowly going

longawkwardpause.wordpress.com/

Cycling Dutch Girl

the only certainty is change

The Shameful Sheep

Blog Woman!!! - Life Uncategorized

Mother, Nehiyaw, Metis, & Itisahwâkan - career communicator. This is my collection of opinions, stories, and the occasional rise to, or fall from, challenge. In other words, it's my party, I can fun if I want to. Artwork by aaronpaquette.net

Life in Lucie's Shoes

Life in a bubble: a dose of New York humor with an Italian twist!

Fit Recovery

Stay Clean Get Fit

lifebeyondexaggeration

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stranger

Globe Drifting

Global issues, travel, photography & fashion. Drifting across the globe; the world is my oyster, my oyster through a lens.

I AM TOM NARDONE

Cathy's Voice Now

Sharing my "voice"

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