Yellow Walls and Old Furniture: A Life Sans Cub Scouts

When we moved into our house I was sick of earth tones; I wanted something bright and cheery. I painted most of the walls in my house a pale yellow. It's a nice color, but still, its a lot of yellow. Now, I want some earth tones. And I want some new furniture. Actually, I'd like a lot of new furniture. If I talked to hubby about it I'm sure he'd agree to me pick out a new piece or two. But that is not the issue. The issue is not if I CAN get new furniture, but whether I SHOULD get new furniture (and paint).

Cub Scouts is seemingly unrelated to the furniture dilemma, but allow me a chance to explain. I want E to be involved in Cub Scouts. It'd be great for him, and I think he'd love it. The problem is that we have activities planned Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Saturday evenings. M is in art lessons and E is doing rock climbing. This is about as much as our schedule can handle. So its not a question of whether Cub Scouts is a good thing, but rather whether Cub Scouts is a good thing for our family right now.

There's nothing wrong with furniture or activities. But for now we are swimming upstream against the culture and choosing less, not more. We're choosing old furniture, and fewer activities. We're choosing homeschool, not charter. We're choosing an old van, not new car payment. We're choosing more family time, and more giving - and frankly, I fight it.

I want stuff. I am not immune to suburbia. I feel its call to business, and perfection, and achievement and affluence. Sometimes the clearance racks at Gap, and the Potterybarn Magazine are like Sirens singing me their seductive song. "Buy Me, You'll look so put together, and hip. Buy me, this is an opportunity that you shouldn't let slip you by. " But like the Siren's song, the song of suburbia leads to destruction. More and better are the enemies of contentment. Activity is the enemy of community. Heaven doesn't look like Potterybarn.