Fellow blogger, Annie Rim, has graciously agreed to guest post here today, sharing how the ordinary beauty of a chair reflects the life of their young family. Annie lives in Colorado where she plays with her daughters, hikes with her husband, teaches at an art museum, reads with a few book clubs, and reflects about life & faith on my blog. Check out Annie’s blog at www.annierim.wordpress.com
When Frank and I got married, I moved from my little, walkable Capitol Hill apartment to his ranch house in University Hills (what my friend called the “suburbs light” – still in the city, but barely). I owned mostly scavenged furniture, though had slowly started buying pieces that fit my style. (My furniture budget paled to my travel budget in those days.) Frank had nice pieces but they were unquestionably purchased by a bachelor.
Dark and too big for the space, the pieces that most irked me were a set of couches. We never could agree on the color – he firmly believed they were forest green, I stand by my opinion that they were black. After painting most of the rooms in the small house to reflect our new, married style, I set to feminizing the furniture.
Our first joint acquisition was a floral wingback chair. It was feminine in shape and pattern, though the browns played well with the masculine furniture we were keeping. Its cream background lightened the space and its high sides were cozy to curl up with a book.
I didn’t fully appreciate the comfort of our wingback chair until we brought Bea home from the hospital. Suddenly, I found myself living in it. The higher arms were perfect for nursing and it was just deep enough to store a book or my phone or all the pumping equipment next to me. I logged many hours in that chair with our newborn, though as she got bigger and more independent, I moved us to the couch for snuggle time.
Now, with a new little one in the house, I’m back in the wingback. Elle and I snuggle in, me reading while she nurses. I’ve noticed the chair is much worse for the wear – the cream background is more of a light brown… The chair has seen its share of coffee spills, milk explosions, and baby spit-up. The other day I looked up home upholstery cleaners, but decided to wait a few months. What’s the point when I know we haven’t yet peaked at its use.
I was thinking about this chair and how it so mimics our life as a young family. How we started out pretty and perfect and a good compliment to each other’s personalities. While that hasn’t changed, the messiness of life has left its mark on us. In some ways, I wish we could go back to those early newlywed days where everything was perfect. But in reality, I wouldn’t change that perfection for the comfortable messiness that reflects our life now. It’s not perfect, but it tells a beautiful story.