it's really not about the curtains...

One of the attempts we have made in order to have a peaceful nights sleep since my son's attack is changing his entire room.

We had the boys spend the night with grandma, went to home depot and bought paint, and went to town.

We had not had an alone evening together in months.

How we longed to go to a movie, eat dinner out and just relax.

But that wasn't an option.

We had 2 days to completely transform his room.

Our therapist talked with us how children need concrete changes to feel safe after trauma's.

Sometimes, when they have frequent night terrors, the associate their bed or room with the nightmares, so they avoid the room all together.

Or in some instances, they wake from a bad dream and see the same wall hanging above their bed.

That wall hanging then becomes a trigger to connect to that nightmare.

Our son refused after about a week to even get in his bed.

Changing his room seemed like the least we could do.

God came through big on this.

Confirmation to us that it was the thing to do.

Friends gave gift cards.

Cash for paint, rugs, or comforters.

We so needed it.

There would have been no way on our skimpy budget to buy everything new.

Although I love decorating on a budget with a passion, this project was of necessity, versus hobby.

I actually loved the boys room.

I had a fun color scheme and enjoyed being in there.

I had to mourn the loss of a room a worked hard on too.

But it was ok.

So I quickly got over that and asked the boys what new room they would like.

My son quickly said "firetruck room!"

Normally I would jump on this and go for it, but we know red is a huge trigger color for him.

His perp wore a red shirt.

Red would be ok in accents- just not the primary color of the room.

I asked if there was anything else he would like.

Baseball! he said.

My husband had several baseball pics, so it was perfect.

My sweet interior decor friend suggested blue and brown families of colors.

I had my vision and went for it.

After a long night of painting, rearranging, and washing new sheets, the last task was the curtains.

Our home was built in the 50's so all the windows are un-conventional sizes.

I needed to hem curtains, as well as put some decorative touches on them- I just had to.

Because, after all, if I am going to change everything- I am going to do it right by golly!

I had the vision of stitching baseball stitching on white curtains with red yarn.

It was going to be awesome.

It was getting late.

The boys were asleep on the couch.

I just needed to hem the curtains and be done.

The sewing machine started jamming up.

A few stitches, then., "mrrrrwww." It was stop.

Out came the fabric, snip snip. Try again.

Mmmrrwww.

Jam.

"agh!"

"come on! you stupid machine! not now!!!"

My husband said, "try again later."

"no." I said firmly.

Again.

Jam.

Again.

Jam.

it is almost 1 am at this point.

MMRRW.

Jam.

"You stupid piece of Shit!!"

(my husband looks up sharply. I am not one to curse much.)

"Come on! Not now. I have to finish. I have to finish! I just want to make these last curtains!"

MRRWWW.

Jam.

"Ok God. This is not cool. All I want to do is make my son some new curtains for his room. I just want him to sleep. I just want him to feel safe again. I want a new start! Just please.

PLEASE! Let me finish these curtains!"

Jam.

I hit the table and screamed:

"WHY!?!"

My husband walks in.

"it's ok babe. Just finish tomorrow. It will be ok."

"No it won't! It won't be ok! I have to finish.

I have to be done!

Something has to be done!

I need resolution!

I need something to be done. Something to be finished! something that makes sense and looks complete!

I need to finish!
I need to finish!

WHY!!!!??!"

I cried.

Then sobbed.

Then hit the table again.

I couldn't bare to walk by the room and see the windows bare.

They needed curtains.

I needed curtains.

I failed.

Once again I felt I couldn't do it.

I couldn't see something through.

I fought the guilt of this situation rush back in.

It was too much to bare.

I went back to the table and took the thread out.

I took the bobbin out.

I looked.

I cleaned.

I refused to give up.

The normal setting would not work.

No matter what I did.

JAM.

So I found a setting that did.

And the white thread wouldn't work either.

I grabbed beige.

I didn't give up.

I cried.

I sewed.

I cried.

I sewed.

I wiped my tears.

I trimmed the thread.

At 3 am.

I finished.

I hung the curtains and carried my sleeping boys to bed.

It didn't work the way I thought it would.

It didn't work the way it should have.

But I didn't give up.

It was so painful.

It took lots of gumption to keep sewing so late.

But I did.

Because, it's really not about the curtains.