It’s an interesting thing, to watch your child grow from baby to toddler to altogether person. The very core of their soul is discovered more each day – a layered onion, revealing, eyes watering – until you’ve unearthed the person who lives in your home; the one sleeping just a few rooms away. She wants two blankets please, two stuffed animals, one water. No socks. One book. Three songs.
Watching her play – watching any child play, really – teaches me forgiveness, and joy, and patience, and truth. And so, when renovating our basement, we knew we wanted to create space for more play. More of the above; more of the truth.
There was a time in which I approached parenting from a static perspective; from a before and after. From an if/then. As in, when Bee turns this age, we will be able to do that thing. I often stuck a finally in front of a few of those variables, with a hint of quiet discontent for our current stage. As in, when Bee turns 3, we will finally be able to dine out. When Bee turns 5, we will finally be able to road trip.
Of course, there is no finally. There is never a finally; life does not offer this. Life does not offer a closed book until its book is closed. We we are ever-changing, ever-learning, ever re-learning still.
I read once, that – each day – we either grow or die. We cannot be fixed, static, stable. It’s in our very makeup; the fluidity of our bodies cause the fluidity of our days. There are many mornings in which I grow, in which we grow together – toward one another. Arms outstretched, plants seeking water. Trees seeking life.
And it goes without saying, I think, that there are many mornings in which I die. I shrink and shrivel, seeking water from the wrong source. The days are dark and long, and my head turns fuzzy. Dehydrated. Longing.
Sometimes, we must carve out a growing space, then. To create room for learning and thriving, creativity and joy. For laughter and music and light, a place where we make rules and messes and magic.
This is that space. This is that attempt. We have a strict policy in this corner, written in marker and taped with love:
Because, as it turns out, there is no if/then attached to growth. There is no finally in growth. It is only one day, one decision to choose water. To allow room for it, and to drink it in.
We will grow, then. For this moment. In this room.
This project is brought to you by our friends at hayneedle.com, where you can, indeed, find everything home! If you’d like, you can shop the post right here:
Vintage California Map
Kids’ Art Easel
Art Easel Supplies
Industrial Wall Clock
Metal Storage Tubs
Kids’ Industrial Table
Metal Cafe Chairs
p.s. Stay tuned in a few weeks to see a full video tour of our entire renovated basement, before and after!