I love my family. I am appreciative that we have a roof over our heads and sturdy walls to keep out the cold. I have so many blessings! That said, our living arrangements have been challenging. Living with my dad has been two or three castes below renting, and I'm so fiercely independent that it is pathetically hard for me to have such boundaries. I get it - this is my dad's house, and I can't make changes and improvements to it. And he still lives here, so there is a lot of even the decor that I don't feel like I can change. It made him crazy that I moved the silverware to a different drawer.
So I can keep sniveling about the things I can't change, or I can look somewhere else. I get a kick out of the design blogs that show us a gorgeous homescape, and then turn around and photograph the other side of the room - where they have kicked the old papers and the dirty socks and last night's dessert dishes and the two blankets that don't match. Thanks for keeping it real.
We can do that in real life, too. I get to choose where I want to look. I can look at the shelves overflowing with my mother's movie collection, or I can look at the somewhat-calmer fireplace. "Organize yourselves" was our theme for January, so I thought I ought to tidy up the space around it. Looking here makes me happy. I just have to be careful to look down every now and then because this room also houses our spreading Lego collection. Don't step on Legos.
I got myself a bag of cinnamon pine cones this year, after admiring them at the stores - but not buying them - every dang year. I love cinnamon, and they still smell lovely. This is what I want to be smelling, not burnt toast or eau de teenaged garcon. Look for the good.
The best part of having a family is that I get to be Mama. Love these kids! Even when they rip my heart out and have growing pains and act unlovable. Maybe I love them even more then, because I have to search and find the wonderful parts of them. It takes practice. But the more I work on loving someone who is difficult to love, the better I get at it. My angel mother and my sweet husband have taught me this.
My mom loved me when I was prickly and not very loving. I still want to curl up in her arms and have her just hold me. And my man loves me now when I am having a less than lovely day. Thanks for holding me together, Trent.
Thanks, Mom, for loving me, and for showing me how to be a mom. Hope you don't mind that I moved the silverware. If you do mind, just look somewhere else, ok?