I L-OOOOVE decorating.
It’s something that really gets my artsy vein pumping. I have a hard time leaving my furniture in the same spot for very long, I
like to switch things out and rearrange them. Most of my time spent sitting on the couch in my living room involves dreaming of the perfect piece to add: a seasonal decor item, something from the new Target line that whispers sweet nothings in my ear or that appliquéd pillow with just the right POP of color. Then I’ll start daydreaming about that old slab of wood lying in my garage that is just begging me to do something with it. Paint me, put some cool knobs on me, cover me with chalk paint. Do something to me!!!
“It’s just a box. A plain old box.”
The words that ran around in my head all morning upon the realization that my daughter was taking an undecorated shoe box to school for her Valentine’s container.
I tried my best to shove all the crazy down. You know, the crazy that makes you start asking yourself all kinds of questions. Questions like: Will people think I’m a deadbeat mom because of this? Will other kids laugh at her because it’s not decorated? And then of course on the heels of guilt for me is always lots of excuses.
Don’t do it.
I know it’s tempting but don’t.
Christmas is over, New Year’s Day has come and gone. All of the lights, the tinsel, the cranberries and the pine boughs that have decorated your house for the past month or two suddenly feels like a relative that has overstayed their welcome. It’s time to pack it up and head out.
Sure, it may be time to put away your decorations but this is no time to pack up your Hope with your Christmas bulbs.
It’s time to pull out the oversized plastic bins labeled ‘Christmas Decor’ and throw everything haphazardly inside. At times cramming things in, hoping that when we open it again next year nothing will be smashed or broken. ChristmasTIME has expired and this stuff has to go. If we have to employ the power of our bottom end to add some force to the cover, then so be it. I haven’t met a lid yet that my rear end couldn’t close.
I hate being misunderstood.
Lately I’ve discovered it’s something that I really struggle with. It frustrates me. I don’t like it when people only see or hear a “snippet” of something and then draw a biased conclusion based upon it. It makes my inner person want to stand up and scream, “That’s not fair!!!” I want to explain myself & let them hear my side of the story. I want to defend myself. As my husband would say, “Kitchen Jessica” would make an appearance. (This is the name he has given me for those times when I just have to get something off my chest, set the record straight and unleash all my big feelings on him…and usually this takes place in the kitchen.)
From my past and all of its hold over me. The poor choices I have made and the harmful acts that have been done unto me. This pain and this heavy shame, that roll in like ocean tide, knocking me off my feet and leaving me catching my breath.