Mommy’s Navy Blues
We’re doing a little remodeling at my house. Actually, I’ve been planning and plotting my own personal haven, in the form of a master bedroom, in my head, for years. My goal with this little remodel/makeover endeavor is to create a bedroom for myself to relax in, a place where I can be comfortable. I keep reminding myself that what’s comfortable to me isn’t necessarily comfortable to others, but no one else is enjoying this space. It’s mine, and I’m doing it for me. I really need a place to work on my toy reviews and other endeavors where I’m comfortable. Somewhere I can just let go, and think about absolutely, positively nothing.
My house has three bedrooms. Basically, this place came with a Small, Medium, and Large, so to speak, with the Large being the Master bedroom with adjoining bathroom. I’m taking the Large back and putting my girls back in the Medium. Reason being, I just wanna. Besides all that, the Large bedroom is on the right side of the house and the Medium and Small (my boys’ room) is on the left side. If I’m in the Medium, that means I’m next to the boys. For certain sound issues, I want to move anyhow.
Ever since I was in high school, I wanted to paint my bedroom walls navy blue. I know, I know. That’s really dark. Thing is, I don’t care how dark it is. That color makes me feel really good. A lot of my clothes are that color. I’m attracted to darker, lazier colors. Navy blue gives me the feel of the night sky over the ocean, so I bought two gallons so that I have enough for the trim in the bathroom, too.
I also bought a new comforter and shams for my bed that would match this whole dark theme I have going on in my almost new bedroom. The comforter itself is microflannel, navy blue with white little swirly thingies all over it (yes, a grown woman just said “thingies”). I’ve never heard of microflannel, though, and am curious about the washing directions and also about the type of sheets to buy with it. I don’t buy sheets to match by color alone. Sheets have to match by feel as well. This is my sheet buying method, and I’m not sure if anyone else does this, but if the sheet doesn’t feel good against the comforter, I won’t buy them. I don’t care how high the thread count is, how Egyptian the cotton may be, or how fuzzy. To heck with sheets that don’t feel good against my comforter because if they don’t feel good together, they won’t feel good against my skin. If it doesn’t feel good against my skin, I won’t want to be bare skinned in my bed. That interferes with my sex life and is seriously frowned upon.
I could prattle on and on all day long about awesome little things that could make you feel good in your own space, but it all boils down to comfort for me. Whatever it is that relaxes you, I don’t care how ridiculous it is, I’ll bet it would make you feel sexy, too, even if in a different sort of way than what you’re used to.
I’m planning on incorporating a lot of my older things in my newly revamped bedroom. I’m bringing my cedar chest back in there. My dad made it, and it’s full of memories. I’m using speakers as bedside tables. Yes, speakers. Big ones. I’m doing this because they’re the right height and because I hate my old ones. Oh, and you can use these particularly huge speakers as easy thrusting hand rests. So, it works perfectly.
One of the oddest things I own in the entire world, I’m also including in the new master bedroom. It’s a picture that belonged to my great grandmother of the symbol for the zodiac sign, Pisces. It has the two fish, and it’s always been a weird reminder that I’m a lot like the woman that once owned that picture, my Granny. She was a wild card, for sure, but she always spoke her mind. I’m a lot like that, and to have that picture in my bedroom will remind me of where (and who) I come from.
I’m also adding a few of my paintings (ones I’ve painted over the years that have just sat in my cedar chest, collecting dust), and some other small touches, but my main goal is peace and quiet. Dark colors are a comfort to me. My paintings are a comfort to me, too. Granny’s things are a comfort. The only thing I’m missing is some ginormous pillows to throw everywhere.
I have a feeling that once I get those walls painted, I’ll be rushing to add the furniture and furnishings. I won’t want to wait because I’m antsy like that. I’ll want my sheets and comforter on the bed before I can even get the comforter out of the zippy bag it came in. I’ll want everything just perfect, and I’ll be so anal about it for days that I won’t let anyone else in there-I’m selfish like that when it comes to my special place. If I’m going to be in there trying to just think about nothing, I don’t want distractions. Thinking about nothing is very important sometimes.
This room, whenever I finish it-which should be THIS WEEK-is going to be the place where I can hang thongs from the ceiling fan and pretend to be at Hugh Hefner’s place if I want to. I can watch porn all day in there, naked, from the comfort of my own bed, if I want to. I can read erotica novels in my bed and eat apple slices at the same time if I want to. I could probably even sleep in there, and for goodness sake, sleep is the main point to having a bedroom, other than sex, that is.
I’d hate to have to be the one to inform the kids that they’re no longer allowed to just burst into Mommy’s room, and they have to knock first. I’m leaving that one to their father (paybacks for making me explain to my daughter why we couldn’t return her little brother to the hospital nursery and exchange him for a girl the day he was born).
My advice to you all out there is that if it takes painting your walls navy blue (or even Barbie doll pink) to make you comfortable enough to relax, then you should do it. Do what it takes to keep your calm and make you feel good about yourself. If you can’t feel good about yourself and feel comfortable in your own bedroom, you’re no good to anyone else, least of all your kids and your husband/wife/lover. That being said, if Hugh Hefner ever reads this, just know that I don’t have a chandelier. I have a ceiling fan, and have to substitute when I decide to toss thongs around the bedroom.
Cheers, folks. Happy Remodeled Bedroom Fucking!