Two months ago we moved. Not just to a new house, but to a new country. It was planned just one month ahead, and we had to find an apartment and furnish it and move with all our stuff- including the baby, yes- in less than a month. It was a chaos and super spontaneous but we had found a gorgeous apartment which I thought would turn into my inner sensual goddess oasis. (Hahahaha) Ten minutes away from the beach (which is what I always dreamed of), super close to the city centre, a residential neighbourhood, newly renovated and included a fireplace! Yes, a damn fireplace, in front of which I was picturing wine glasses and endless love-making sessions. (Hahahaha)
So I already had the whole picture in my head: a super low corner sofa, in black, with fluffy cushions and yellow deco pillows in the living room, with an equally-low shiny black coffee table in front of it, and a matching long wool carpet underneath. Velvet curtains, lots of candles, dim lighting and…absolutely no toys around. Toys and baby stuff would all find their place in the child’s room, and not everywhere around like in our old home. (Hahhaha) I guess I was still functioning with the pre-baby brain, because surprise- it turned out the complete opposite way, go figure. God was good and sent a sign- somehow all my wish list items were out of stock and so we had to implement plan B. It wasn’t until couple of weeks ago that I understood what a good decision it was.
The moment was when I first found our sofa covered in ceramic pencils in each colour- there was blue and red and green and yellow, and it could have been seen as a piece of art, but all I could think of was “how do you get this s*&t off”. Luckily my husband thought of everything when we moved in and purchased a *Magic Spray* from IKEA that was meant to clean off anything from furniture and textiles. So after I saw it came off, I breathed out. And that was the first and last time I got shocked by seeing colours on furniture.
The first time is the hardest, but you get used to it. (trust me) Yes it might seem messy, but any mom who tells me she lives in an all-white house with crystal vases around the house and precious leather sofas is most probably lying or kidding me.
So we have a comfy and children-friendly sofa now, fluffy rugs filled with train rails, excavators and trucks, and Sasha even got his own drawing table with a matching chair, kids book stands and about 3 toys chests that host around. His room is empty, because he spends all his time in the living room, of course. When I said I would never buy LEGO, I was probably high on chocolate or something. Of course you only step on legos wherever you go, and *always* be careful when you lay down on the couch because you might just get a screwdriver stuck in your back or get the singing Santa Claus from the Christmas book to start reciting X Mas carols. Yes, we already listen to Christmas songs by Michael Buble and Sasha is reading his Christmas musical book every damn morning, thank you.
So I guess imagining a sexy house is quite unrealistic if you have a baby under the age of 5, or maybe 18, I don’t even know yet. And God knows I am not going to invest in expensive and minimalist furniture in the close future, because I would just shad a tear every time he would sit on it with bread in his hands or worse- with coloured crayons.
I was picturing long shower sessions in my super sexy dark bathroom, with sensorial therapies and 30 minutes hair masks, and instead I am happy every time I get to take a shower ALONE and uninterrupted. Instead, I was assaulted the other days by a vomiting baby who busted into my shower without notice. Not sexy. I was picturing long movie nights by the fireplace, when instead most of the nights we whisper instead of talking so that we don’t wake up the little dragon. I was picturing candles burning on the fireplace and all around the house, instead now we are picking up firetrucks and helicopters from every corner of the house. But one thing I know for sure: it’s a beautiful mess and I love it. It’s not the way I was picturing our sexy house, but I wouldn’t want it any other way, because I knot it’s not gonna last forever and I won’t be playing with giraffes and trains on the floor for the next 18 years. So I’m enjoying every second I spend lying on the carpet and playing head to head with my boo.
So Moms, all I’m saying, let’s embrace this chaos surrounding our house and lives because it’s so precious and it will not last forever. Just until they leave for college. Or until you kick them out at 30. Hopefully won’t get there.