This morning has proven to be surreal, and it's merely 9:19am as I type. I woke up super early to finish a project for Teacher Appreciation Week... everything "clicked". I was done with minutes to spare. It looked the way I'd envisioned it to look. (Side story? We used tree branches as centerpieces in vases for the teacher's luncheon. As I was assembling them, E comes downstairs and says, "Uh, Mom? What are those for?" Me: "Decoration for the teachers' luncheon." E: "Uh, Mom? Sticks aren't really pretty decoration. You should know that." Anyway...)
E had a friend pick her up for school this morning so I could be here for the installation of her playhouse. THE playhouse. She's been dreaming of this house for so long (read: about 8 months? a year?)... I think I've been dreaming about it even longer.
When I was around her age, my Daddy and my Papaw built us a treehouse. My main job during the treehouse's construction was to be The Maker and Bringer of the Kool-Aid. I was good at that job. I brought them cup after cup of syrupy sweet purple stuff while they sweated and cursed in our backyard. When it was finished, it was perfect.
I spent days in that house- playing school, being brave and sleeping all night by myself way back in the woods, decorating it was posters from Tiger Beat, having friends come play in it (when they weren't scared of spiders) so we could have "alone time", taking my journal or a book up there to write and read... it was my haven.
I used it way beyond when a child would usually "use" a treehouse... it's part of my story.
When my Daddy talked about helping Dan build a playhouse for Elizabeth (house built in 1994? trees not quite ready for treehouses....), I was thrilled. I envisioned E bringing Kool-aid and impatiently waiting for it's completion. As we put together material lists and weighed pros and cons of "ready made" playhouses, my Daddy's Home Depot side won out and we opted for a "ready made" shed. Apparently the fondly remembered hours of them laboring in the sun to build my treehouse didn't look so fondly in Daddy's memory.
And so here we are. There are men in my backyard assembling E's playhouse. It promises to be just as magical for her. I can only imagine her years ahead filled with tea parties, sleep overs, book reading and journal writing, Tiger Beat decorating, secret telling, spider squealing, privacy seeking moments in that wooden refuge. I am blessed to be able to offer her a chance to create her own memories of solitude (got that boys? solitude... that means you're not invited in 10 more years!). I have no idea what lies ahead as God's plan for our lives unfold... but for this moment in time as I look out my window and see a gorgeous playhouse being constructed- I am content.
Playhouse warming party details to follow. (Please note: I wrote this earlier this morning, but waited to post it until I had finished product pictures. Tonight at church- without having read this- a friend of mine asked E if they could have a Purple Kool-Aid House Warming Party sometime soon... I immediately thought she'd read the blog... then remembered I hadn't posted it! Apparently we will be having Purple Kool-Aid after all...)
E had a friend pick her up for school this morning so I could be here for the installation of her playhouse. THE playhouse. She's been dreaming of this house for so long (read: about 8 months? a year?)... I think I've been dreaming about it even longer.
When I was around her age, my Daddy and my Papaw built us a treehouse. My main job during the treehouse's construction was to be The Maker and Bringer of the Kool-Aid. I was good at that job. I brought them cup after cup of syrupy sweet purple stuff while they sweated and cursed in our backyard. When it was finished, it was perfect.
I spent days in that house- playing school, being brave and sleeping all night by myself way back in the woods, decorating it was posters from Tiger Beat, having friends come play in it (when they weren't scared of spiders) so we could have "alone time", taking my journal or a book up there to write and read... it was my haven.
I used it way beyond when a child would usually "use" a treehouse... it's part of my story.
When my Daddy talked about helping Dan build a playhouse for Elizabeth (house built in 1994? trees not quite ready for treehouses....), I was thrilled. I envisioned E bringing Kool-aid and impatiently waiting for it's completion. As we put together material lists and weighed pros and cons of "ready made" playhouses, my Daddy's Home Depot side won out and we opted for a "ready made" shed. Apparently the fondly remembered hours of them laboring in the sun to build my treehouse didn't look so fondly in Daddy's memory.
And so here we are. There are men in my backyard assembling E's playhouse. It promises to be just as magical for her. I can only imagine her years ahead filled with tea parties, sleep overs, book reading and journal writing, Tiger Beat decorating, secret telling, spider squealing, privacy seeking moments in that wooden refuge. I am blessed to be able to offer her a chance to create her own memories of solitude (got that boys? solitude... that means you're not invited in 10 more years!). I have no idea what lies ahead as God's plan for our lives unfold... but for this moment in time as I look out my window and see a gorgeous playhouse being constructed- I am content.
Playhouse warming party details to follow. (Please note: I wrote this earlier this morning, but waited to post it until I had finished product pictures. Tonight at church- without having read this- a friend of mine asked E if they could have a Purple Kool-Aid House Warming Party sometime soon... I immediately thought she'd read the blog... then remembered I hadn't posted it! Apparently we will be having Purple Kool-Aid after all...)
the truck arrives!
before
during
after
her first moments of fun!
a happy (and quite thankful!) girl.
2 comments:
I LOVE this. I had a playhouse growing up. When my Step-grandfather passed away, I got all of the things that had been in his jewelry store. We played in that playhouse with the cash register and credit card machine (you know, the kind you had to slide!) and the carbon copy receipts. As we got older we sat out there and talked about boys and our biggest secrets! It had carpet and electric and even eventually AC! I LOVE those memories and I hope there are just as many made in your backyard!
Two things: 1. Is there a loft in that thing? Soo tall! 2. It seems big enough that Aaron and I could move in to save on rent after seminary. ~S.Elmore
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