Family Room vs Living Room
I just figured out that I’ve been dissatisfied with our living room for a really long time because in my mind I’m comparing it to pretty, serene living rooms that belong to people who are not me and do not have my family or have other rooms that serve as the comfy, hang-out, sometimes chaotic, family space. I may also be comparing our living room to rooms that don’t belong to anyone at all, pictures in magazines, staged homes in real estate listings that I read like some people read sports news or watch cooking shows. The point is, this mental comparing is not helpful. The voice (Evie?) telling me our main living space is unacceptable and shamefully cluttered is not helpful to enjoying it. And it’s set up to be enjoyed, not gazed upon.
There’s a desk for me in the corner — I swore I’d never put a desk in the living room again, but here it is, again, because I guess that’s where I like to be. There’s a new-ish stationary bike (yes facing the TV), several foam rollers, a cat scratching post, about 20 stuffed animals, a “building zone” in the bay window full of toy tools, precious sticks, rocks, and “specimens”. There’s a speed bag punching bag. A mini basketball hoop hanging over an adjoining door. And a couple of puffy chairs and a sofa that are all much too big for the space.
And also a little table and two chairs for Ax, that he’s really outgrown but I can bear to get rid of, not yet. And the beanbag chairs, of course. And the mini “Hanukkah bush” that Ax protested was too beautiful to put away which he centered carefully in the front window.
I’m so grateful for our nest and I love being in it with my family. I’m going to keep repeating that. I’m gonna keep going.
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