A Touch of Color

My number one non-essential wish right now would be to discover a few thousand dollars in my pocket, then whiz through my home updating furniture and adding graphic color and pattern all over the place using paint, wallpaper and, most of all, fabric.

My number one mental/emotional health challenge right now is gray skies.  They’re really getting to me in spite of all my efforts to pretend that it’s sunny.    On a gray day last week I said to my husband, “I want to paint something a bright color.”  (I actually wanted to paint three or four things, but I didn’t say that.  It might have worried him.)  He argued that it wouldn’t change anything, that happiness is something we choose no matter what the weather is outside.

And while I agree with him wholeheartedly, I must also argue that color and paint can start us down the road of cheerfulness on ugly days.  So I fed the family dinner, watched my husband leave for some meetings, let the children play (what is spring break for, after all?) and got out my paint brush.


The formerly all-white cabinet in my dining room got a little makeover.




Not only does the blue look spectacular, the white now pops and the entire piece suddenly has nicer lines and more character.


I’ve always loved the look of shelves painted a contrasting color on the inside.  I’m not sure why I’ve never done it before, but now I’m eying all the shelves in our house.


The dining room is north facing and in the center of our house, so it really gets very little natural light.  I love the butter yellow on the walls for that reason.  It’s the perfect color for the room, and helps to lighten it up.  Now, however, I’ve got a gorgeous splash of paradise in the middle of the room.

I pared down the silver pieces on the shelves.  I’ve got an idea brewing for them, but for now this is great.


Even the view from the kitchen is improved by this reflection in the mirror.


And when I come downstairs this is the first thing I see:


My favorite little gravy boat now enjoys a place on the shelf.  I like how it looks against the blue.


Yes, happiness is a choice.   But paint sure helps.

Jennifer

A Year of Habits, no. 15

How can it be that we’re fifteen weeks into 2011?  For some reason that number seems large today.


It’s Sunday evening.  Most of my children sit nearby, absorbed in books of their choice.  My husband naps on the couch as I relish the sound of birds singing outside our open windows.  Could it be that spring, at last, is here?

My tulips are beginning to bloom.  At first I was disappointed that they didn’t all burst into color at once for a big display of color.  Instead they’re opening first in the back while the flower beds in front hold back.  Now I’m grateful for the staggered growth; the beauty will last longer.  It’s funny how we want so many things to be a certain way, only to discover that the way it all works out instead is best.

We’ve had a wonderful week.  No bells or whistles or fancy trips.  We’ve had a week of good, old fashioned childhood: a week of forts built in remote corners of our property, running through sprinklers, naps on the lawn, playing with brothers and sisters and neighbors.  It’s been a week of prayer, fresh worries and lots of love felt in behalf of my 90 year old Grandpa who had a severe stroke at the beginning of the week.  It’s been a week of peanut butter sandwiches and sliced apples, muddy shoes, lazy mornings, swing sets squeaking, laughter and imagination.  Even I sat outside yesterday in the warm sun while the children played and simply read a book.  (This is a partial answer to my question , that yes, some things get easier when your baby is old enough to play without putting everything in her mouth.)  I know my older ones may be disappointed when they go back to school tomorrow and hear reports of cruises and trips to Disneyland, but I’m confident we got what we needed.  Once again, our daily bread.

Perhaps the only real habit I’m developing so far this year is an improvement in recognizing the Lord’s hand in our lives, in seeing Him give us what we NEED regardless of anything we might not have.   I sincerely worked at changing gears this week, trying to shelve the things I’m worried about and live in the moment.  I had a few lapses but made inroads as well.

I admit this is a Sunday evening I didn’t want to come.  School resumes tomorrow and we’re back in the thick of things for seven more weeks.  It sounds so long but I know it will be a whirlwind of activity and suddenly we’ll drop into summer with a sigh of relief.

I remember nights like tonight.  As a child I remember the anxiety that gripped my heart the night before school started.  I felt it every Sunday night, the worry of performing well enough, wondering if I could do it.  It was magnified exponentially on the last night of any sort of break.  You’d think I would have grown out of it by now, but I haven’t.  I loved school as a girl, and would happily go back now for another degree if that was the plan for my life.  Yet here I sit, gripped by the same anxiety, and I’m not one of the people who will shoulder a backpack in the morning and march back to the classroom.  I’m the mom, and I find myself asking the same question I asked years ago:  Will I be good enough?

The thing I know now, much better than I knew as a child, is that I’m not good enough.   It gives me a stomach ache just to look at all the soccer schedules, list the piano and violin pieces that need to be memorized ASAP, consider the homework we need to fit in, and wonder how to make dinner and clean the bathrooms all the while.  But I also know this:  Motherhood matters.  I’m not doing this alone.  I have prayer, and if I’m humble enough things usually work out.  I have to remind myself a lot, but it’s still true.  I’m not good enough, but Jesus Christ is .  So I’ll do my best and look forward to summer.

So I take a deep breath, look around and marvel at the beauty of my family on this perfect Sabbath day, and look ahead to the week.  My notebook contains a list of things to do in celebration of Easter, some fun and many reverent.  I hope I can pull it off.  It’s going to be a great week.

Jennifer

Spring Flowers Undone

Having been caught with the peanut butter again, it was put away and my little one went for the flowers instead.


She was quite happy to pause her experiment to show me what she’d accomplished.


We salvaged the flowers she hadn’t yet dismantled and let her play with what was left.


How can I be upset with her when she’s obviously having such a grand time?


Still, I’ve got to find a way to get her interested in items that are NOT on top of tables and counters.


Here’s my question for all of you who are either done having babies or who have breaks larger than 2 years:  At what point do things settle down enough that you start feeling productive again?  I thought it would be sometime soon, but I’m starting to wonder.   Keeping up with this little explorer of mine is a full time job in itself!

Thank goodness she’s cute.

Jennifer

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