Matthew went on a trip to Morocco for 12 days.
In a million years, he could never pay me back for watching the kids by myself so he could go gallivanting around Africa with his school friends but letting me redecorate the living room was a pretty good start.
This wasn’t just me getting restless or needing something to do or even getting even- I never felt like the room was fully done. I’ve always thought it needed to be cozier and we needed more seating. The room’s set up was hard to figure out because of the fireplace and TV placement, which is probably why I stopped working on the living room for so long in the first place.
I ended up stealing a chair from my bedroom and moving the two chairs that had already been in the living room. Adding a rug and the ottomans pulled the room together.
I also wanted to change the bookshelves. Once you settle into a new place, I think you have a better idea of what you want and what looks good. When you’re unpacking, you have everything you own right in front of you and I sometimes feel pressure to display every single thing. I’m really bad at getting rid of things so I try to find ways to connect my entire style revolution and things end up looking too busy. So I figured putting similar colors together might make the shelves look a little cleaner and simpler.
And I will never change the mantle. Not ever.
I stayed true to all my style staples (feminine, photographs, monograms, etc) but everything feels just different enough to breathe new life into the room. And it’s so much more comfortable to spend time in there as a family. I love how you get a whole new space by mostly just rearranging what you already have. And I don’t just hoard home decor; I hoard the memories and sentiments behind everything. So when I move a picture or a book or some trinket, I’m taken back to a moment or part of my life or old part of myself. Your home can show other people more about what you like but it can also remind you of all that you are and have been.
And the next time I change things around, I’ll be reminded that I survived almost two weeks alone with two kids. And that Matthew still owes me one.