Learning to Live With Less

I have always been a person who likes to aquire things-especially secondhand items. I love collecting vintage embroidered linens, finding books for less than a dollar that would normally cost 15 in the bookstores, beautiful pieces of china.  My last apartment, before I met and moved in with John, was straight up shabby chic.  Lace curtains, vintage fabric pillows, thrifted figurines.  Not to mention the oodles and oodles of books that filled my home.  Some housed in my father's antique barrister bookcase, but many just piled up around the place.  Or the piles of clothes I'd found for just a few dollars here or a few dollars there.  If it was cute, cheap, and fit me I would grab it.  It almost felt compulsive at times.

After I got pregnant I stopped buying so much for myself.  But I was still finding wonderful things for my son: adorable clothes, adorable toys, adorable books, adorable things to decorate his space. It is hard to resist, especially when you find something precious for a secondhand price.  A couple of months before we moved out of our last home, I found some wonderful wooden animal blocks by Hearth Song for six dollars.  It was hard to resist and I didn't. 

It wasn't like I was a hoarder or anything that extreme.  But as much as I loved the "find," after awhile it would just become stuff, clutter I had to deal with.  On top of that, it doesn't make a lot of sense to display antique vases when you have a toddler.  Either they are going to be put up too high to really enjoy and collect dust. (And who has time to dust antique vases when you are chasing after a toddler?) Or they are going to be broken by the ever curious toddler.

I found myself resenting all my "stuff."

And so, before we moved into our current and much smaller home, I began going through and donating my things.  I thought it would be a little hard, but mostly I felt relief to be letting go of the clutter.  Only the very special things were saved.  Like my 19th century Blue Willow tea pot that my mother gave me.  It's up high above the cupboards, but I can see it from where I am writing.

I no longer have a shabby chic style home.  Things are much more simple now--instead of a ton of vases and figurines, the top of the barrister bookcase is home to a radio, an old family picture, an heirloom bowl, and a single figurine.  The curio cabinet is no longer full of curios.  The kitchen table is simple, too.  With a single cloth and a nature display.

  I also went through Gabriel's toys and extensively pared them down.  He's much happier with less.  His play is much more purposeful now. Though he certainly can strew about the toys that he has.  But I suppose that is just the nature of being a one year old.

I still go to thrift stores, but now with a greater sense of purpose.  When I needed a basket to hold the cloth wipes, I got a basket.  When I needed fabric for doll making (an endeavor I am beginning to undertake with some difficulty), I found some jersey knit at the PTO thrift. The same for when we needed a diaper pail.  Though I did find it hard to resist the baby legwarmers. But fall is coming and they will be useful.

Overall, I am finding how much I love the clarity that is present in my space. Today, I moved the coffee table out of our little living room.  It seemed to be such an impediment.  Gabriel was constantly climbing on it, it made everything feel really closed in.  Now the space is open. I can breathe.

In the interest of full disclosure--this is what it looked like before Gabriel went to bed.