Thursday, August 19, 2010

At My Blue Shiny House

I read a blog.  Actually, I read lots of blogs.  But there is one in particular that always makes me think.  And I like to think.  This one is Stacey.  She is a writer and a mother, and insists that she could really be any mommy out there, hence the name of her blog.  Today she posted about this wonderful concept that her kids came up with.  Or maybe she did.  She's not sure either.  At my shiny house.

My shiny house is blue.  A lovely soft shade of blue.  A hue somewhere between N's eyes and the deep blueness of a cloudless sky.  It is a 2-story, 100+ year-old brick shiny house deep in my city.  The school district is the best in the country and I never, ever, ever have to climb stairs.  There are fans made of feathers that blow cooly at night.

At my blue shiny house, the floors automatically clean themselves. The animals do not shed.

At my blue shiny house there is a dietitian who plans all of my menus to make my grocery store shopping as simple as can be.  I love to cook, so I do all of my cooking in my blue shiny house.  Except for days that I don't want to, and then I don't even have to ask, the food is waiting deliciously at our place settings.

At my shiny blue house, my laundry puts itself away.  There is a sewing room with every color of fabric imaginable stacked in beautiful organized white cubical shelves.  There is also plenty of mommy time that doesn't come out of the 24-hour day or take away time from BBZ.  Time is endless and fun and beautiful at my shiny blue house.

At my blue shiny house, I only have to work 3 days a week, and only 6 hours a day.  There is a master craftsman who teaches BBZ and I an endless number of craft projects and activities.  There are no TVs.  Except when I want one.  Or when N wants one.

In the backyard of my shiny blue house is a BBQ master with Pappy's secret recipe who constantly cooks ribs and pulled chicken sandwiches.  And corn on the cob.  And sweet potato fries.

At my shiny blue house, N has a man-cave, a fridge full of budweiser and a huge music room with Jerry Garcia's ghost that will play for N whenever he requests it.

In my closet in my blue shiny house is Rachel Zoe, who picks out my rockin' outfits everyday.

I really could go on and on...this is fun!

If you feel like reading a bit more of Stacey's writing, check out this post about the space between the mom she is and the mom she wishes she could be.  It amazing stuff.  Perfect reading for a panicy and hopeless worrier like myself.  Thanks for the inspiration, Stacey!

What is at your shiny house?  What color is it?