And so I messaged a few word nerd friends, and together we discovered the perfect word for my room. Arcadia!
Arcadia is a region or scene of simple pleasure and quiet. Which describes my room exactly! I don't have to tell my kids to put something away in the "Mom Cave," "my office," or any other such nonsense. None of those words describe this area. But Arcadia is perfect! The only hang up is I keep wanting to call it Astoria, and the song So Long, Astoria by the Ataris keeps getting stuck in my head, but I'm not too concerned. I am hoping that Arcadia, my room, will be a place full of simple pleasure and quiet. Emphasis on quiet. I have already begun to log away hours simply reading in here. I miss reading. I haven't had a quiet place to curl up in and just let the words wash over me, drowning me in the story, for such a long time! Today I was able to steal away in here a few times over. I am still not finished cleaning it. I really haven't had much time to do that at all. I was babysitting today, and will be again tomorrow, except for much longer. But the potential of this room is breathtaking. I have arranged my reading chair so that it looks out the window towards the west sky, giving me a perfect view of sunsets. There is a book case to the left of it, small and perfectly situated to rest a mug on top of it for those cold wintry days I am actually excited for. To sit and watch the snow fall while sipping cocoa and reading a book... I'm most likely just dreaming here. I mean, I do have 5 kids, and I watch 3 more a few times every week. When I'm not babysitting I am trying to get caught up on the house and other things that I have let fall to the side. But a girl can dream, can't she?
Which makes me laugh. Today while I was cleaning up the living room I remember thinking, "one day I will put my decorations in their spot, and they will actually stay there! Won't that be an exciting day!" But as I understand it, there is always a trade off. I hear of grandmothers who miss the sticky hand prints and muddy feet, and don't clean them up when their grandkids come to visit. They would be in heaven in my fingerprinted, muddy footprints, and juice always all over the floor kind of house.
It has been a busy day today, just trying to get caught up. The house still looks like it was raided by inconsiderate museum curators who just wanted to see where everything was, and pull it all out and display it on the floor. Everything is disheveled and all over the place and may take me a week or two to set aright again. But here's the funny thing. I don't really mind all that much. It must be from the magic of Arcadia. Because I know, no matter how crazy it gets out there, I have a peaceful and quiet place here where I can escape momentarily.
glasses are raised and I wipe a small tear from the corner of my eye.
P.S. Pictures are forthcoming. I just need to finish cleaning first.