The Work of Morning
I got up at 5 this morning to feed Midge and couldn't get back to sleep. Ashley is sacked out on the couch (I think I was taking up the whole bed when he tried to go to sleep last night, and he's too nice to just ask me to move) but the typing doesn't seem to bother him.
I'm drinking coffee and doing something I know I shouldn't do. I'm reading the countless blogs of women who have children, their own houses, good taste, endless crafting (and cooking) abilities, clean kitchens, and money to spend at the fabric store. I am addicted to these blogs (you know the ones...) but they leave me feeling terrible! Just now I walked into my kitchen for another cup of coffee and was stopped in my tracks by the sheer number of dirty dishes, the splotches on the counter, the dog hair collecting in the corner. I can't get it together enough these days to clean my kitchen, let alone make a tastefully simple quilt that matches the paint that I agonized over for days and then perfectly applied to my child's darling nursery walls.
Crazy....there's so much to these little windows into other women's lives that play on my insecurities. They can obsess over paint, because they are actually ALLOWED to paint their walls. I, on the other hand, am 31 years old and rent. I am told what I can do to "my" walls. They can match their baby quilts to nursery walls because their kids have their own rooms! We have a one bedroom apartment...and it's a small bedroom at that. We are all piled on top of each other at night. I actually kind of like that, but hey! I'd like the option to spread out a little....to get out of each other's faces.
I think, somewhere deep down, I suspect they are living the life I thought I'd have. When I moved here three and a half years ago and opened Mabel's, I think I saw some of what they have in my future. I thought we'd have a house, I thought I'd have time to sew, knit, cook. I didn't think I'd be awake all night in my rented apartment wondering how rent would be payed in two weeks. I didn't look ahead and see my business suffering under the weight of a few unfortunate twists of fate. I didn't see the dirty kitchen, the desperate attempts to stay hopeful.
I did see my little family though. Ashley, Midge, Lottie. God...it seems like an embarrassment of riches in a lot of ways. Why is it so hard to reconcile what I thought would be, with what is? And besides, I know things change and this isn't where we'll always be...I think worry can zap so much of the real experience out of life. It's a lesson I still haven't learned.
Anyway, it's 6:30 now and the apartment is still quiet. I'm keeping at bay all of the stresses of the day for a little bit longer. I'm going to try to post everyday for 30 days starting today - I think accomplishing something...ANYTHING...will be good for me. Pictures tomorrow, I promise.