The room was a mess. Toys scattered across the floor, cereal ground into the carpet and the contents of the art trolley everywhere but in the trolley. It was a man-made tornado. Or in this case, a tornado made by two small, under aged siblings.
I surveyed the mess. Then I started moving furniture.
I picked up the larger items off the floor and vacuumed only the exact area I would be moving furniture to. I started with the bookcase, dragging it beside the window. Then I picked up an end of one of the couches and pulled it to the opposite wall. Intrigued, the girl curled up on the sofa and surveyed the new view.
I surveyed the view too. I tried to picture the changes I was making in my head. The living room was going to become the dining room and the dining room was going to become the living room. It was the biggest physical change I could think of making, but in the end I decided I didn't like it.
Instead, I moved the furniture back the way it had been four years ago. Back before the coffee table took up permanent residence in the basement. Back before the primary coloured mats covered our hardwood floor in an attempt to protect both it and the babies. Back before everything was pushed back to the walls to create the largest play area possible.
I am in love with the change. The room is still a mess despite my vacuuming and tidying, but my brain is satisfied with the new look. It feels new and right now new is what I need.
Best of all it occupied myself and the kids for a few hours on a cold afternoon.