Talk about everyday life, I was told. I looked around and realized that my #newnormal included a bedroom without walls that faces the back of a house that opened to the elements. That’s kind of interesting, I think. I’ve never experienced either of these and they’ve both changed the way I lived. So as far as everyday life goes, these two components of my day are a good place to start reflecting.
Let’s tackle the open bedroom today. I have always enjoyed a normal bedroom. With walls. And a door. I particularly relish locking the door. I am a happily married woman with a hotty-husband…and three boys. I like to lock the door to keep them out so I can hang out with said husband. “Grown-up time” is an important value of mine. I do not give it up lightly. That being said, I relinquished bedroom walls and a door pretty easily with this house. I’m not totally sure what happened. I loved the view and I loved how open our family space would be. I wanted a different and unique living experience while we were here and I was confident that this would check both of those boxes.
As far as logistics go, I’ve gotten comfortable changing my clothes on the fly. I have the choice to face the window, back doors (which are glass and open almost the whole side of the house to the yard/lake), a mirror, or towards our kitchen/dining/family room. I’ve made my peace with the fact that I’ll inevitably flash my children at some point. I choose flashing over fear. I refuse to change in and out of my pajamas like a middle school girl in a PE locker room; for me that was putting my gym uniform on top of regular clothes and then shimmying out of regular clothes while I was still covered. I could walk to the bathroom to change, but I’m too lazy. Again, if I flash my children, we will all survive. #newnormal
I’m sure there are lots of positives to an open bedroom, but I can only think of one right now. Having an open bedroom means you can relax in bed and still be in the center of things. So far that has felt groovy and I love working in bed without feeling like I’ve gone off to another room and isolated myself. In our last house (in the States) we had 4 floors and 11 rooms, not counting bathrooms. Here, with our open villa/ranch style house, we have 1 floor and 3 rooms. We are still learning how to find quiet spaces and alone time by sneaking off to a hammock or lounging on the hillside. Throughout the day, we are always together and in close proximity, but often doing different things: cooking a meal, on an iPad, reading a book, watching cows, napping, in the hot tub, or gazing off at the day while feet up in a rocking chair.
It’s been a pleasant way to live for the past week. I’ll keep you posted after we’ve been here longer. Maybe all of this togetherness will wear on us. Maybe my bedroom will become intolerable. I’m not sure, but I’m curious to see how this all unfolds. I wanted new experiences and an adventure, and I’m getting lots of mini-adventures every day!
I should mention that our bed is king-sized. It’s been harder to adjust to that than it has been to the wall-less-ness. It takes a concerted effort to find my spouse once we go to bed. I can no longer reach him with outstretched arm or leg. It’s a never-ending landscape of mattress. To add to this challenge, my husband sleeps along the very edge of his side of the bed. He claims it stems from his early childhood when he had to share a twin bed with his grandmother who used to smoke next to him. He was always slightly concerned she would burn him. Or maybe she did burn him and that’s why he was so committed to giving her as much room as possible. I don’t totally remember the story, but I did think, oh the good ol’ 80s. Back when smoking was kinda bad, not the murderous sin my children think it is today. They see smokers and assume the police will come along and arrest the offending puffers at any moment. They get seriously offended by cigarettes and the smokers who love them. I didn’t realize how bad their aversion was until they wouldn’t trick-or-treat at house that featured a man handing out candy while smoking on his front porch. Outside. My son said the candy wasn’t worth the second-hand smoke and obvious instantaneous cancer it would cause. Yeesh.
Enough about smoking. Back to our new house and the weird master bedroom. It’s cool for now. Our bedroom has become symbolic of my openness to new things and seeing how life shakes out. I’m suspending final judgement until I live here for at least a month. Wish me luck!