Friday, May 24, 2013

Five Minute Friday Prompt: View

I see it so differently now, this little house.

We've worked so hard on it and lived so much in it.

"You don't know how much you love something until you loose it". Or maybe you don't know how much you love it until you're about to have to leave it.

I was the one who convinced Peyton to buy it. But for a long time there was so much about it that made me crazy. I noticed every flaw and was constantly playing the comparison game. I was also so self-conscious and worried that other people thought it was dumpy.

But now? It's ours and I'm so proud of it. I notice new things I love every day and I brace myself to say goodbye to them in a few months.


But I've also gotten really excited about my new view. There are two little iron beds and two little quilts I found and I'm already brainstorming which toys to take.

I've made mental notes about a few platters and picture frames and there several coffee table books that I know need to go.

I'm thinking of ripping down our funky floral curtains and packing them up and I know our vintage looking twenty year old itty bitty crock pot will serve us well.

The clearance room Anthropologie lampshade and the placemat pillows Minnie made might or might not go. The chenille chair I bought before Annie turned one and the gingerbread house that can be folded up small or popped out in a matter of minutes...again we'll have to see.

Peyton's hat collection and my scarves will of course be parred down, but they'll go, too. We'll take only our favorite books and our best loved dishes. Two pots and one pan. A box of stuffed animals and four of five puzzles.


Peyton can't seem to see how any of this matters. After all, it's only stuff. But it does matter. A whole lot, actually. To me, anyway. Because it's about more than materialism, folks. It's about who we'll live in the city. If we pack four suitcases and live on mattresses and stare at naked walls, it'll be a trip. And for awhile, that's how we had planned to do it.

Because that was the only way I felt like I could bare it. If I was living out of a suitcase, I could convince myself it wasn't reality, it was just an extended trip. But I've come to a place where I can view it as more than that and embrace it as our real lives. And if tiny iron beds and floral curtains and the dishes we registered for and gingerbread playhouses help make this a reality I can enjoy, then I'm going to give myself those things.


But none of that will compare to seeing the city through the eyes of a man who loves it so. Or the the eyes of my tiny daughter with an imagination as big as all outdoors. Or my wild boy child who seeks adventure the same way his lover of life Papa does. Seeing it through those eyes will be the best view ever.

Better even than Pottery Barn quilts on tiny iron toddler beds with a smallish nightstand squeezed in between and pushed up against a window overlooking a city that never sleeps. Better even than that.

 Five Minute Friday


icansaymama said...

Such a wonderful post. I can really feel how much your old place means to you. I am sure taking the things with you that you love so much will help you settle into your new home. All the best to you and yours!

Richelle @ Our Wright-ing Pad said...

i dream of a house of our own, someday... my grandparents are facing the reality of having to leave their home - and they've been their since my mama was a little girl. if only the walls could speak, eh?

i'll never be able to give that to my children and some days, that makes me sad, but... i'd still make the same choices again.

Denise said...

Nice post.

Jennifer said...

Why am I crying over this post? You should write a book SD! I'd buy it because you are a natural storyteller.

Courtney said...

Beautiful post. I am so interested in this journey you are taking. It is something that would totally be out of my comfort zone, so I can understand how you are feeling. What are you going to do with your house while you are gone? How long are you planning on staying in NYC?