20 September 2016


Abigail, who is still on antibiotics for her latest cold-turned-sinus-infection has brought home another round of colds for all three kids to share. Combined with the cough, runny nose, and all-around grouchies, we have diarrhea. For all three. And Abigail got stung by a bee at school today. Her first bee sting. She actually told me about it, pointing behind her ear, "Bee." Said plainly, without pain. Lastly, Matt is working late tonight. Fun times. I'm actually doing really well despite the heaps of crapola. Morning Bible study is to thank, I think.

While most of the new house smell has worn off, sometimes I still can't believe all this space is mine, especially, for some reason, when I'm in the laundry room. I have so much space that I have a whole room dedicated to my laundry. It's been spruced up all nice by the previous homeowners, with a new laminate floor, fresh paint on the wall, lots of storage, a place to hang dry clothes, a laundry shoot, and even the unfinished ceiling has been painted black so as to make the space feel stylish.

It even has a cat door entrance because the previous homeowners had a cat too. I can put her liter pan and food and everything in the laundry room and keep the kids and dog out by closing the door. It's perfect.

Sometimes when I'm in my laundry room I think about what it will be like when we move out. I like to think it happens long after our kids are grown and we need to downsize. There will be so much stuff to go through! Years and years of wrapping paper and extra trash bags and lost socks. The closets will be packed with sheets and towels that we've had since we got married. Kitchen cabinets crammed with stacks of holiday bundt pans and glass Pyrex casserole dishes. I am watching my in-laws go through this process now, box after box emerging from the depths of the basement, bring long forgotten objects to daylight for the first time in years. Sometimes literally. I watch my friends who are done having kids sort through all the baby stuff: tossing, donating, selling, keeping for the memories.

While I, for the first time in my life, am letting things build up. Stockpile. Become a stash. A stash of extra pillow cases in a bin in the hall closet. A cupcake maker with a broken handle (that works just great!) from Matt's white elephant party at work finds a home in the pantry. The entire unfinished half of the basement. Oh goodness, I don't go in there when I'm feeling the OCD coming on. It's so full of extras, hand-me-downs, maybe-we'll-need-this-one-days because for once in my life, I actually have the space to hold on to it. We finally have space to wax. To build. To increase. To grow in space because our family is growing in size. It seems far-fetched now, but I can see it happening: we are filling up cupboards and cabinets and pantries and closets.

But when I stand in my laundry room, I can see the day when I will one day have to wane. When I will have to go through an entire house full of things I used to take care of my family. I am thankful that I can wax in my beautiful house. With my sick little Fox snuggled in his carrier.

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