Let’s be honest: I’m not good at decorating. There, I said it. My home is cozy enough—neither too big nor too small—but it looks nothing like those glamorous spaces you see on HGTV. Unless, of course, it’s on one of those “before and after” shows like Fixer Upper.
Picture this: the family room wall is a constant mess of crooked frames. There’s a magazine cutout of some baseball player taped over a family photo, and our dining table still has seashells from a half-hearted attempt at seasonal decor, despite it being the middle of October—hello, decorative gourd season!
When guests walk in, the first thing they often ask is, “Why is there a donkey on your wall?” Yes, you read that right—a donkey (the animal kind, not the other). It’s just part of my decorating charm—or lack thereof.
Honestly, I don’t really care. Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration; I do care a little. I’d love to channel my inner design guru, but with kids and pets running around, I’ve adopted the motto, “This is why we can’t have nice things.” On top of that, I’m a bit lazy. I can’t muster the energy to browse for perfectly coordinated throw pillows or figure out if shiplap is a good idea for my house. Seriously, what even is shiplap?
Even if I magically found the time and motivation to decorate like it’s straight out of a Pottery Barn catalog, I don’t want to spend my days nagging my kids to keep their feet off a pristine white couch or reminding them to put away their Legos. It’s exhausting enough to remind them a million times to brush their teeth and to toss their dirty clothes into the laundry chute that’s literally right outside their bedroom!
Honestly, I don’t have the energy to fret over whether the hand towels in my nonexistent guest bathroom stay clean. I share a bathroom with three guys, and I’d be thrilled if the toilet seat stayed down and the toilet paper roll actually got changed!
And let’s not even get started on HGTV. I know, I know—how dare I not love it? But every time I tune in, I end up hating my home and questioning my life choices. Five minutes of watching and I’m ready to rush to Home Depot and start DIY-ing my own shabby-chic boutique.
I’m not criticizing those who enjoy home decor; if a Saturday night at Lowe’s makes you happy, more power to you! But as much as I might envy your stylish foyer or trendy accent wall, I just can’t bring myself to care. I’m a minimalist at heart and get overwhelmed by too many choices. Every time I try to spruce one thing up, the rest just looks even more worn out. Where does it end? With me drowning in caulk and lamenting over outdated shiplap, that’s where.
So there you have it: I’m terrible at decorating, and the older I get, the less I care. My home resembles a toy store—think less trendy Pottery Barn, more cheap plastic from Toys“R”Us. My bedroom set is older than my 12-year marriage, and distinguishing between paint colors like ecru and alabaster? Forget it. And yes, I still don’t know what shiplap is.
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In summary, I’m not a decorating whiz, and I’m coming to terms with that. My home isn’t a picture-perfect spread from a magazine, but it’s filled with love, laughter, and a whole lot of toys. And really, that’s what matters most.