secret dreams.

I’m sure everybody has them.  Hidden dreams or talents that get muddled beneath the surface during everyday life.  More times than not, practical has a way of taking over—as it should.  I’ve always wanted to be a designer.  My parents have drawings  of rooms or homes I scribbled in crayon and I even took an interior design course in high school.  Before Pinterest came along I bought design magazines, cut them apart and taped them into a sketch book with notes about each piece.  I’ve always preferred spending extra money on things for our house instead of clothes (which is why I always complain about having nothing to wear, ah well).  Then, when I finally had my own home to design it was overwhelming.  It’s crazy how many options there are out there when you start looking…but home furnishings isn’t really the point.  Lately I’ve started pursuing design again.  I’m going to be honest, our design budget is small.  Really small.  But I’m already amazed what some research and a can of paint can do.  We’ve started revamping our bedroom and gave the exterior of our house a facelift.  I wish I could say I kept the crazy train design to our house (or the house we own) but no dice.  This afternoon during Hadley’s nap Noah and I sat on the couch for quiet time watching George.  The house looked like a small tornado hit (or like we’re moving).  Toys, papers, and dishes are scattered.  Jackets are piled high on the couch.  We started the process of transition beds but for now our poor mattress and boxspring has been downgraded to the floor.  Instead of cleaning like a maniac, like I normally do, I sat down.  Noah’s drawing pad and a dull colored pencil in hand and I started sketching our dream home.  Josiah and I are hoping to buy an old home, eventually, with a little land.  We’ve passed a few abandoned homes lately and my imagination is running wild.  I’ve already designed the exterior and without stepping foot inside, the layout of our dream home.  But abandoned homes isn’t really the point either.  So, tired, overworked mama.  Do something you enjoy.  Cultivate the talents or interests you had before your sweet littles started drawing on the walls or smearing peanut butter on the couch.  It’s not easy, especially with a dirty house staring you in the face.  But the marker and peanut butter will be there when you’re done.  Also, if you need any poorly drawn ideas my colored pencil has a little more life left in it—if I hold it the right way.

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