The Reading Room

I had some fun over the weekend, cleaning out the kid’s toy room, and converting it into an impromptu library/art room.

It took hours – and I do mean hours – to get it done.

Bags of rubbish and broken toys, binned. Shelves cleared. Toys sorted. Books moved, spaces rearranged.

Getting all of the clutter out of the way, and creating a neat little haven was awfully good for my inner neat-freak. It made me feel as though there was some sense of order, at the end of a very disorderly school holiday period.

Seeing the look on the Girl Child’s face as she saw the room for the first time, all tidy with her things accessible and in order, well, that was pretty good too.

But wandering upstairs later that evening to find her and her beloved Daddy curled up in bean bags, with matching soft smiles on their faces, reading side by side in the glow of a salt lamp…yep, my poor old heart nearly overflowed, burst and imploded all at once.

So much love.

Creating that space was worth every second, because I can already see what it means to her.

She has found a haven within our home, and I suspect it’s going to be invaluable, to all of us.

The last thing she said to me when she was getting out of the car at school today, was how much she was looking forward to sitting in the reading room with Daddy tonight after school.

And yep, there went my heart again.

In a world where everyone seems to want everything, it seems she’s more than happy with a quiet room, a good book, and her dad.

I reckon she’s onto something.

Big love,

Rysie.

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