Fine Dining

We just got a new dining set, mostly due to the generosity of my in-laws. Even Steve loves it, and he is usually not that enthused about what happens in our home connected to decorating or furnishing.

It is big enough to seat at least 8 people, 10 if you squish, and we can finally see each other's faces while we eat. I could not believe the amount of animated discussion that was generated in the table's "atmosphere," compared to previous levels.

And it is beautiful. Really, I can almost get gushy about it, and I gotta tell you that I still run a loving hand down it when no one is looking.

The funny thing is, the dining set almost inspires in me behaviours I normally don't have urges about. Confession: I almost left the plastic on a couple of the chairs for us to "use everyday." I had guests over and almost gave in to the urge to make them all use plastic place mats for their coffee cups. What is happening to me?? Don't worry, I didn't do either of those things. I staved off those impulses because Joel has taught me a lot of stuff, and one of those things is to use the fine china.

Yup. Use the fine china. Live a little. With Caeden, I "saved" the nicest clothes for "special times" and he wore a lot of second hand "play clothes" at home. Now, I am not saying there is anything wrong with play clothes.

But when it comes to Joel, I realized "What am I saving the nice clothes FOR?" It's not like he's going to an evening at the Oscars! And I decided, I want my little boy to look cute FOR ME. If his life is going to be so short, and I don't know what day will be the last, I'm going to only have memories of him in nice clothes.

So Joel only wears the second hand clothes that I REALLY like. My favorites from Caeden, that survived his attempts to stain them with blueberries and the like. And he wears nice new outfits at home, if I feel like it! We are going to "live a little" on this one!

Sometimes it is good to "save" things for a later day. Be fiscally responsible and save some cash. Of course, we should take some proper care of our things. Hey, I could to better with some of this stuff.

But sometimes we need to live a little. Worrying too much about saving things for tomorrow, or keeping them pristine can rob us enjoying them right now. Like being afraid all the time about getting scuffs on the dining table, instead of enjoying hosting family and friends.

Which brings me to "me." Or more precisely, my own body. It sure isn't in the condition it was in 10 years ago. I mean, there are scuffs and marks everywhere, and I feel like being Joel's mom has aged me about 10 years in just a year and a half. More gray hairs, some lines of sorrow...

Not to mention the stretch marks. And let me tell you, to say that having children has "changed" my breasts a little bit is quite a euphemism. I was never a great beauty, but I used to feel I was physically attractive, maybe even "cute." I feel a bit sad to think of it all...

Then I think about it some more. About how my body and my dining room table are sort of the same. I mean, what would trying to endlessly preserve either of them do? Not that a smart haircut, or a few new clothes aren't worth it, and I still WILL POLISH the table with wax. But with use, comes wear and tear.

I was never a candidate anyway, but it seems to me the world has enough models and movie stars. I'm not really sure it has enough good mothers, or selfless women (I'm not a candidate for that last one either, but!!!)

It is hard, in this world of preservation, of constantly trying to maintain youth and beauty, not to sometimes feel bad about what time and use have done and continue to do to your body.

But I am glad I took the plastic off my chairs and off my lap. Every scuff and mark on my body or my table is worth it to make a happy and comfortable, welcoming home. Some of those wrinkles growing here are smile lines.

And when I am 85, I hope I will look at the marks on the dining table and see lots of dinners full of laughter, remember lots of cups of amiable coffee with friends, be cheered to know my home was known for hospitality and not perfection.

And when I look at my "marked up" body, I hope I will see two happy little boys who adored their mother, wrinkles and all, and remember the beauty of feeling those little kicks when I glance at the stretch marks. I hope it all reminds me that I used the good china, wore out the "nice" clothes, and "lived a little" in my own body, in the best possible way...