Our Days Archives - Page 2 of 2

I feel like I should tell you about my table.

It came to me like this:

I made a space for it.

It was last Monday actually, and I was feeling very “life-is-so-out-of-our-control.”

{I’ve been working on that lately — rolling with it.}

I will let things be out of control, I say to myself, while purging my closet, because I am not good at this yet.

I am trying.

But at the same time that I’ve been trying, I came across this book, which really is life-changing, as long as you count how my dresser drawers look with all my clothes folded into cubes as life-changing.

(I haven’t read the whole thing yet.)

In it, she talks about stuff, and we all know this already, right? That stuff controls us and such?

I think it probably does. Less stuff definitely helps me feel calmer.

I am a big fan of clear, empty spaces.

I love for things to “have a home.”

I believe that a cluttered desk does indeed lead to a cluttered mind; that a cluttered garage leads to a cluttered liver.

Or something.

And so, I’ve been purging. Not just because it’s spring, but probably in part because it’s spring.

I started with my bedroom, and cleared out an alarming amount of stuff: 4 Goodwill boxes; 3 bags of recycling and 2 bags of trash.

I’m sorry. I love our planet, but nobody wants my holey socks. And I will not force my children to make puppets out of them.

I just won’t.

So I boxed the books, and tried to find breathing room in a place that is supposed to bring calm and respite, or at least Netflix and sleep.

And as I decluttered, my wont for an actual beside table came back.

And so I acknowledged that feeling, and continued dragging junk down the stairs and out to the car.

And when, just a few days later, my aunt told me that my grandma had a small table she was getting rid of and would I want it? I knew. I knew it was going to be perfect.

And it is. It fits in the smallish spot between my bed and my husband’s dresser. It is just right for a few books (not all the books, Kara) and a cup of tea.

And it makes me feel good, and it reminds me how much we all need a thing.

(Not all the things, but a thing.)

We need things that help us feel good, and we need to do the things that help us feel good.

Those should be priorities, just as much as taking care of our families and paying bills.

Really. We have only one time to do this, and you know — we should get to enjoy it.

And so I sat down this weekend and made a little list of the things that are making me genuinely happy right now:

tea
this lavender spray
this chocolate
books

Little things.

And a table.

And decluttering, I guess, although no matter what the book says, I will not start talking to my shoes or caressing my books.

I just won’t.

~::~

My friend told me once that we all need a thing. We need a go-to thing that we know will bring us joy.

Because life has bumpy spots.

It doesn’t have to be something expensive or fancy.

It can be a cozy blanket; or a favorite mug — a pastry from the coffee shop, or a song.

It can be a table, I think.

The perfect kind of chocolate …

A television show that makes you laugh …

But I hope you know your thing.

I didn’t for a while.

But I’m glad I’m clearing the way to discover it.

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There’s going to come a time when it gets old — this having one car thing.

But for now, on this snowy afternoon, it’s pretty OK.

I think it helps that it’s not forever.

I was thinking about not-forever recently — my kids were taking Christmas break seriously, playing lots of video games and enjoying more candy and treats than normal.

There was a day I found myself ready to get pretty irritated about that, until I reminded myself that a break isn’t really a break if we keep doing all the old regular things.

And so, I took a deep breath, and ate some chocolate with crushed up candy canes in it and I felt better.

There have been so many things over the years that have driven me crazy simply because I’ve lost perspective. A child who no longer wanted to nap, for instance, was once enough to bring me to my knees.

It’s not as bad as it sounds. I was hiding. I was hiding in a nook between my bed and the wall because I just needed 5 minutes.

I think it might have actually been a game now, come to think of it …

But sometimes, as a homeschooling mom, I forget that stages come and go, and “educational standards” are completely arbitrary and made up anyway.

I forget that I am a bit of a rebel.

I forget to ask, “Who says!” and instead find myself worrying that my children will suffer if I don’t force them to learn all their multiplication tables right this minute.

I mean, we prefer slow math with window crayons any day.

Which brings me back to this having one car business.

Having one car is very manageable for the time being. I am baking more, because I have time to let things rise. (These English muffins are amazing.)

I am looking at my kids more, because they are beside me instead of the in the back seat.

We are even reading together more — I am making tea every afternoon, and we are finally finishing this book, which is wonderful.

I am communicating with my husband more, because we have to know what the other has going on; lest someone get left somewhere.

And it is very cold. That would be very bad.

Most things are tolerable (even enjoyable) when you know they are not going to stretch into forever.

And then … there are things that you want to last forever, and they go by way too fast.

But that’s another post, I think.

So enjoy your kids’ imperfect ages and stages today, friends.

Remember:

Nothing lasts forever, and we all know hearts can change.

And it hard to hold a candle, in the cold November rain.

Wait. That’s Guns and Roses.

Much love,

Kara

Why we all need a thing (but not all the things.)

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It’s not forever: A gentle homeschool reminder. (Starring Guns and Roses.)

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