lines and empty spaces
I spent the last 45 minutes or so worrying about something stupid.
I was thinking about how it had been a while since I had cleaned Celeste’s bedroom. And then I realized it had been a while since Celeste had been in her bedroom and that it probably didn’t need cleaning because she wasn’t likely to be in it anytime soon anyway.
Celeste is content sleeping in her own bed. In fact, she does so when she’s with her mom every night and usually for the entire night. But, for me, it’s just easier and more comfortable to have her in my bed. I don’t have to worry about baby monitors or the stairs. I don’t have to keep her door shut. I don’t have to go upstairs to comfort her in the middle of the night if she wakes up. And if she wakes up before I do in the morning, she lets me know. It’s just easier.
And since she’s sleeping in my room, it makes the most sense to have her clothes there too. And all of her toys are in her playroom. So, there’s really no need for her to go in her room.
So, what did I spend the last 45 minutes worrying about? I worried about wasting space. In a house that’s two times larger than we need and has one entire floor too many with entire rooms that are never used, I’m worried about wasting space.
My mind just thinks, “I should either use the space, or get rid of the space.” But, getting rid of the space isn’t an option. And that’s where things breakdown. Because the next logical conclusion, for some stupid reason, is to force myself to use the space. So for 45 minutes I thought about how annoying it’s going to be to move Celeste into her room when I really don’t want her there and neither does she.