Often days or weeks go by with little to no reflection of being female. Surrounded by 2 boys, 1 man, trucks, trains, jeans, caps, bikes, sneakers, hockey, rocks, dirt, farts and well, you get it, there is not much of the girlie persuasion around here. My parent's visit prompted us to move the upstairs rooms around. Elliott's crib is now in with Kyan and the office has been cleared of baby use. As I was standing in the hall on Sunday I glanced in the doorway and saw the above. Not staged in the least the scene looked girlie to me. And I thought wow, that is my little piece of woman space.
Granted I have declared on several occasions to Dave that we share this space; it's his too. If you were to glance a little further into the room you'll find a framed photo of a hockey goalie and various other items that are special to the man of the house. I think my goal for this room is that it is an adult space, calmer, no toys or kid's stuff in here. Our bedroom is still all about the kids as Elliott still sleeps with us for part of the night and it will never be off limits to random toys or boy energy of every kind. But this room can be mine every now and then. No train tracks, no dirty socks, just fabric, plants, room to sit and think. As my time for expanding my artistic and spiritual horizons increases by the tiniest increments I see that this space will become more prominent. It will change inevitably. But Sunday gave me a little gift and showed me that amongst all the chaos that is raising young boys and being the only double X in the immediate vicinity the girlie is there and makes its presence known. And I dare say these boys will be all the better for it too.