I was trying to discuss some design options with Kevin the other day, for the kitchen or dining room or something, and I just started crying, because I couldn't figure out how to integrate all the pretty things I had in my head. (Also, perhaps because I was very tired, admittedly.) Especially when I was trying to balance the design pretties with practicalities about how we actually live (i.e., open shelving for everyday dishes and glassware near stove? love the look, love the practicality of use, but would it get too greasy?). I found myself getting angry at how messy Kevin and the children are, and will be, because I know some of the things I'd like to do would just look awful all the time because my family wouldn't put things away properly.
And so I try to compromise, settling on designs that are a little more forgiving of clutter (like an old English gentleman's library, or a weathered farmhouse kitchen), aesthetics which I do like, and find beautiful, but then I worry that the house will just look dirty and messy all the time. I find myself longing for clean and crisp and open and bright. And so I end up browsing Etsy in the middle of the night and while sleep-deprived, buying a half-yard bundle of fabrics like this Patty Young Mezzanine collection, because hey -- clean and crisp and a great design sense, charming bright pinks and greens and white, and all in a Gothic pattern, which is super-cool, since I have a mad passion for the medieval shapes, even if I don't like the Goth doom and gloom. And I'm thinking I'll learn how to sew a small quilt or place mats and napkins or some such. And then I find myself wanting to cry again once the fabric arrives, because I can't figure out anything to do with it that I would actually use, because these colors, they are too modern for my house. Argh.
I think I'm overthinking this.