I've been thinking a lot about design lately. I have to think about it because (a) I love it, (b) my house desperately needs it, and (c) it's my job.
What is design though? Sometimes I get so caught up in marveling in other people's work, I forget that I have my own creative thoughts. My computer still does not have internet, but I started setting up my office finally. I cut out some pictures that I love and have been saving for years and started an inspiration wall. I put a plant on the desk, a picture of me and my husband on a table next to our little sleeper sofa.
Those simple acts gave me so much pride, so much satisfaction, that I walked into my oldest boy's room and made his bed for the first time since we moved here. Why, you ask? I can answer both parts. I had never made his bed before because he only has a bed and the room isn't finished. I didn't think it was necessary to make his tiny little bed.
What caused me to want to make it was this sense of satisfaction I talked about. Those pictures—my little bits of inspiration—made this place feel a little more like home. Like me. They made me sweep and mop today, and even appreciate my kids a little more.
That's what I love about design. That it can give you something back, oftentimes more valuable then you could ever imagine.
I won't let a day go by where I don't make my kid's bed ever again.
