Introducing My New Room...Again2:00 AM
At my three-year-old Blues Clues birthday party, a girl tried to blow out my candles. I snapped, "It's my birthday." We caught it on tape. Nobody ever lets me forget it. Even at three, I was territorial, very fixed on having a special place, a special time, a special something "just for me."
It's my birthday.
We're all like that sometime. In a world we won't let own us, in a busy life that oftentimes does, we crave space. We crave a territory. We want to put down roots in something untainted by another's opinion, in a place where we can breathe and create and reconnect with ourselves - and something greater than ourselves.
I think that's why women love home. I never understood it before, the womanly obsession with vacuuming and decorating. Why not throw a rug over the unswept floor, hide the dirty dishes under a towel and keep that ugly couch? That was my logic. (If you saw my desk, you would know why.)
Then I got my own room.
Follow the philosophisation over at Raising Homemakers today!
(You know you want to.)
P.S. I'm over at Struggles of a (Maybe) Teen Author today, writing a birthday letter to a special sixteen-year-old.