Cody and I live in our first home, and it’s perfect for us. Perfect size, perfect location (I work a house away…literally), and perfect for learning what to do differently next time around.
When we first started to look for a house, it was just a conversation that quickly turned into a purchase. One of our family friends heard we were looking and she led us to her home where she was raising her two girls in at the time. As soon as we walked in the back door my heart soared! I was in love! One thing lead to another and we were signing the dotted line. It was meant to be!
Since then the love has gone with the leaky roof we have discovered this cruel winter…and come back again with the moments my very large, very loud family share; however one thing remains the same – our spare room, future baby’s room, current room of stuff, is THAT room.
Do you have a room that holds another side of you? The side that doesn’t want to throw out that once perfect-fitting dress, just in case, but you can’t keep it in your closet? The side that simply wants to keep the decorations from a friend’s sister’s wedding (which you did not got to) because you may need them some day?
Here lies clothes I have yet to donate, broken furniture, Christmas decorations, a bed frame. Hidden are bags from shopping trips, paid bills and the piles of paperwork my hoarding fiancé requires to keep. The bed holds Cody’s crossbow, duck calls, and duck decoys.
The door stays closed and no one goes in, because it’s uncertain if they will be ever come out. The colour has not changed since the last owner, and it has been on my to-do list since there was a house to-do list! Just to put this into perspective for you – we have lived here for 4 years.
How did it get this bad you ask? Why don’t you clean it? Well!
I blame my mother…
And before you roll your eyes, let me explain!
There have been three houses in my life I can remember during my childhood and they have all had a spare bedroom that grew stuff! A haven for the forgotten and broken. A resting place for the boxes that moved from one house to the other and never unpacked. If you didn’t know where to put something, you discarded it among the piles of boxes and bags. She called them her “sewing rooms.” I called them the land of the forgotten!
Hours could be spent looking at old pictures, going through boxes of saved baby clothes and general tchotchkes. You could reminisce, or find something you never knew existed. Beads, books, Barbies, computer parts, furniture, projects started and left – they held everything! Therefore, since my childhood it has been instilled in me that every house NEEDS one of these rooms. The thought of these rooms causes my brain to revolt every time I go to clean and organize it. So Mooommm – it’s your fault!
For now, it will be that room, the room we don’t show, the room that holds memories had and to be made.
For now …. 🙂