From the Deep

The kids are at school, yet I cannot get them off my mind. Their car game has taken over the basement, along with the Cranium Cadoo pieces strewn across the carpet. The beginnings of my son’s Izzy bottle collection stand on the kitchen table, despite the fact that I told him to put the bottles in his room before he left. The cardboard blocks have escaped from their blanket nest, the handiwork of my daughter, and have scattered like baby chicks pecking for corn on the family room floor.

Nope. Can’t get the kids off my mind or their belongings from under my feet. I work and live at home, amid the mess of four creative, gifted people. And I’ve tried to accept the clutter as just that: the results of ingenuity I’d hate to stifle. Yet I’d also like to find a spot of serenity where I can sit whenever I want and not have to look at (or sit on) Legos, plastic guns (yes, despite my lobbying against them, they’ve crept into our household), or hair accoutrements.

So I’m on the hunt for space of my own. A haven. A sanctuary. This is only the beginning of the journey, which includes an internal shift I’ve not yet experienced. I’ll keep you posted…