Category: Spaces

  • Taming the Mess and the Schedule

    The inside of our home is now my sanctuary.

    In late April, I brought in someone to help me start cleaning up our house. To say the boys’ rooms were problematic was an understatement. It wasn’t their fault: We have five pets, and I hadn’t gotten in to help them declutter or clean much in probably three years. 

    Over the course of three visits, my helper and I tamed the mess entirely. 

    The first visit, we tackled Porter’s room. I’d already packed up a good bit of things that he’ll want to save, so a lot of our project was rearranging books and actual de-furring every item and surface. And, getting rid of a lot of trash, too. 

    But with her first visit, I gained momentum to keep going on my own. I cleaned up the mess in the dining room. I tackled boxes in our bedroom. I re-arranged our bedroom. 

    The second visit was Oliver’s room (which was not in as bad shape as the others because he has a cat that lives in his room so his room had to be cleaned at least a little), and also the bathrooms in the house. 

    The momentum continued after her visit; I kept up maintenance cleaning and managed to make the kitchen desk shelving (and desk and kitchen table themselves) presentable and useable. 

    The third visit was Liam’s room and all the floors in the house, and some dusting.

    And, all of a sudden…..I have a sanctuary baseline to work with to maintain.

    We have a four-bedroom, single-story house with all luxury vinyl plank and tile flooring throughout. And two and a half bathrooms, one of which has a tile and grout shower and a garden jetted tub. 

    It’s a big house. Big by my standards, anyway. 

    So, here’s my new summer schedule….. I worked it out and the actual work each day should not be more than an hour and a half on the heaviest work days. The schedule will change in the Fall both because the big boys will be off at their colleges and my schedule will change too:

    And having the schedule worked out like that, I feel free to create the kind of daily rhythm I struggled to establish and maintain when the boys were younger. I’m not 100% sure that two loads of laundry per day will be necessary, even, but if I don’t keep it in the schedule I won’t stay on top of the laundry and then there will be a dozen loads to do in one day. 

    I’m finding that I loved raising my boys, and I love even more now that two are successfully out of high school and the third is solidly in middle school. Motherhood has not been easy or come naturally to me and I am realizing I have been mostly in survival mode for nearly twenty years. 

    Now that there is room to breathe and no toys underfoot, my psyche is relaxing quite a bit. And I love chatting and spending time with my big boys now that no one is little. I was not the baby-person in the household; most people know that person was solidly Jared. 

    I realize that house cleaning is not rocket science; I was learning to tend to my house as a young child. It’s not lack of knowledge or even lack of discipline; it’s that somewhere over the last twenty years of life and motherhood, I lost my bearings. 

    And I’m under no illusion: it will take work to maintain this momentum, and I deal with mental illness and there will be days I just cannot. 

    It’s strange though, to go from feeling hopeless about the state of our house in April to all of a sudden feeling like I could have guests over right now if I wanted to. 

    There would be more photos, but the beds are not made because it is sheets day. 

    I’ve long since struggled with waking in the morning, but with this schedule and a sense of hope and feeling of gratitude about my life, I managed to wake up at 5:00 this morning and have my quiet time before everyone else was up. That is the magic part of the day for me, and my days don’t feel complete when I oversleep out of depression or exhaustion.

    A win.

    Fediverse reactions
  • Rebranding, Overpriced Houses, and Spring Break Shenanigans

    I’ve been silent because I had little to write about.

    I mean, lots is going on in my life, but I don’t feel about writing about it. It’s not really my stories to tell.

    Suffice it to say that I have unspeakably generous family, who is very graciously giving to us.

    It is Spring Break and last weekend, Jared and I started thinking about going on a mini-adventure. We talked about going to Destin as a day-drive.

    And then for reasons I won’t write about, it became a good idea to take a two-day drive: from Carrollton, Georgia to Olathe, Kansas.

    So Tuesday, I drove from Carrollton to Olathe, in a single day, and then on Wednesday I drove from Olathe to Carrollton, again, in the single day. I was a sole driver both days. They were long days but traffic was good and the weather was fabulous.

    For what it’s worth: State Line Plaza in Mammoth Springs, Arkansas is an awesome place to stop for gas and restroom facilities and a small snack.

    Jared and I did tour the house we bought in 2007 today as it is for sale, and its current state both made me sad and very glad we sold when we did. While I’ve been waxing nostalgic and daydreaming about downsizing back into the very house I brought two of my three brand new babies home to, it became clear today that that house is at least $70k overpriced probably due to its condition and needed repairs.

    We actually toured three houses today (that’s what happens when one of your best friends is a very generous real estate agent) and all that happened is that Jared sat me at the end of our driveway when we got home and had me look at our house and tell him that yes, I do actually think the house we currently own is the nicest of the houses we looked at today. So I am re-energized about staying here forever. But Jared says that we just have to start with staying here tonight and that claiming “forever” is the black-and-white thinking that gets me in trouble.

    The only other news is that I have re-branded my business again. I dropped the “Luxe” from my LLC name and just named the LLC after myself. Seems more appropriate to my current life stage.

    I guess that’s all for tonight.

  • Maybe Recliners Aren’t the Be-All-End-All

    I have severe scoliosis. As in– I started wearing a back brace at age six, wore some variation of said brace through age 13 (think hard plastic shells molded from a cast of my whole torso, made every few months as I grew)…..it was not fun times.

    And at age 13 when I had surgery for an 87-degree curve, I really hoped that was the end of it. I grew from five foot six inches to five foot seven and a half inches in 10 hours. True story.

    But….life happened, four pregnancies and three healthy boys happened, and here I am at age 46 with a secondary thoracic curve that has to be at least 45 degrees in addition to the original lumbar curve, which has settled also at 45 degrees or so.

    Suffice it to say between the curves and rotation, my whole skeletal system is a mess.

    For the past six years, we have loved our Kirkland Signature leather electric reclining couch. We now are at Costco all the time, but we actually scored our couch at a local salvage store for $250, brand new apparently. When we bought it I thought we’d be doing well to get six months of use out of it, and here we are six years alter, and it still works.

    I have been in physical therapy now for months, and after last week’s session I decided I might be done with the couch. I’ve known for a long time that it was not good for my back, so I decided to just take the week and sit, when I sit, in this straight back cushioned rocking chair with the pillow, as pictured above.

    And…..something minor-miracle-wise, happened:

    I found myself sitting less. A lot less. I started getting back on my stationary exercise bike daily. I found myself sitting to do what I was going to do and then getting back up to resume household tasks as needed. And my mental health has been better on the whole, as well.

    I did not realize that what one sits on can literally make a change in lifestyle in the span of a week.

    So, the couch is posted on Facebook for giveaway, and we will find a better recliner for my husband, who legitimately does need one since he sleeps out here in our living room occasionally.

    Yes, we are a couple that does not always sleep in the same room, and no, there is nothing wrong with our marriage.

    I suppose that is another post, though.

  • It’s Just a Toe

    On January 21, I had a permanent matrixectomy on my left big toe. And for eight weeks and two days, I completely avoided posting any public pictures of that toe– it was gross.

    But Friday morning, March 20, I woke up and saw when I looked at my feet that there was no 1/2 inch square scab in the bottom left hand corner as had been there the night before, when I went to sleep.

    So, bored on Friday afternoon, I took the above photo with my phone, and captioned it this on Facebook:

    “It took 1 day shy of exactly two months for my gimpy toe to have the 1/2 inch square scab to fall off, apparently in one fell swoop overnight. My toe feels no different, and I didn’t feel it happen, but my big toe looks so weird without a nail or anything there even though I’ve known for 2 months this was the goal.

    To me it looks like I just have pink fingernail polish on that one toe.

    I spared y’all all the photos I took of the gore as it was in progress over the past two months— it was really gross especially about the 2-week mark. But I couldn’t resist this one.”

    And I thought nothing more about it, until I saw on Saturday that the post had 20k something views.

    As of this writing, Monday afternoon March 23, that post has had 73,212 views.

    The lone negative comment was that I needed clean my shoe, which if anybody knows anything about Birkenstocks, that is a nonissue.

    And honesty time: Had I known that that photo was going to go mini-viral: I would have gotten out the good camera. I would have trimmed on that second toe which is not quite straight with its nail, where the right side of the nail skims upwards slightly. I would have gotten the green strap from my physical therapy off the coffee table behind my foot. I would have probably, yes, worn different shoes or better yet, no shoe at all.

    It’s just a toe, people.

    But it is pretty funny that a stadium or two’s worth of people find it fascinating to look at a toe without a toenail.

    I posted the following as part of the comments:

    “Since people seem to like this post, the back story: This toenail had been giving me ingrown problems at that top left corner since I was 13 years old, and had become fungal to the point it had stopped growing over a year ago. It was so thick that I could no longer cut it at all myself. At age 46, I said enough and went to the podiatrist for a matrixectomy. I did try the prescription anti fungal lacquer and Vicks and ketoconazole cream prior to giving up. 

    I am extremely squeamish about people messing with my toes and especially my toenails. I told my doctor about my phobia, and she was very compassionate both with local anesthesia and patient with me. My doctor was great, and the whole procedure after insurance (admittedly, we do have good insurance) cost about $346 out of pocket. 

    I took Tylenol for the first two days but after that needed no pain meds, and I did have to wear flip flops (not these Birks) in the dead of winter (procedure was January 21) for a long time, and in awkward social situations at times. 

    But, for a lifetime of not having to deal with that toenail anymore….100% worth it.”

    Thankfully, most comments have been kind; a few people have shared their own feet or tips for future use as my foot settles.

    But really, people. It’s just a toe.

    Fediverse reactions
  • Mom Confession

    I have a confession to make:

    For most of the past 19 years or so, I have low-key resented all the boy blankets in the house.

    They messed with my decor sensibilities. Themed blankets that made little boys so very happy: Mario Bros., Spider-Man, Batman, Superman….. those blanket don’t very well go with a well-put together house.

    Still, little boys love that sort of thing, so I said not. a. single. word.

    But when given options for blankets in the main parts of the house, I’d choose other blankets every. last. time. for family activities, for pictures, for anything else that I could possibly think of an excuse for.

    Themed little boy blankets were for boys’ beds. That was pretty much it. Or if they dragged them to the main living areas themselves for some reason.

    But now, our boys don’t have themed blankets on their beds anymore. They prefer dark, stripes or basic slight plaid patterns.

    They prefer big boy bedding these days.

    So now, we have a supply of Spiderman and Mario Bros. blankets that don’t see a lot of love.

    Except when Jared ends up on the couch to sleep, which is often for reasons not related to our marriage one little bit.

    And Jared goes for the Mario Bros. blanket. Or the Spiderman blanket.

    And I’m not sure if he does it because it’s on the top of the pile, or if he does it because it reminds him of the little arms that used to reach up for him to pick up.

    And more and more lately, he leaves blankets, like this bunched up Mario Bros. Blanket in the photo, on the couch, for Abby or Trixie to lay on, saying “they were so comfy.”

    These blankets in no way, shape, or form fit to my decor sensibilities anymore in 2026 than they did in 2012.

    But you know what? I more and more say not one word about the out-of-place blankets left around.

    In fact, my very own pile of 5-6 blankets that I pile on top of my self in bed every night currently includes a Spiderman comforter.

    Because you know why? I’m aware that the little boy years are gone.

    Those years are gone, forever, for the Price household.

    And I am grateful for what brilliant, kind, hilarious, and gentle young men my children are growing up into.

    But now, keeping these blankets– using them while they are still fit to use– reminds me that those frantic, stressful, hilarious, fun, sleepy, beautiful years– those years mattered. Deeply.

    And I don’t know about Jared, but for myself– I sleep a little more soundly right now when a Spiderman blanket is keeping me warm.