Little brown flecks

I wonder at times how others perceive me. I've been stressed and messy, and calm and collected on and off since becoming a mother. Maybe really always. I have a set of peeling furniture at my house. When we bought it 3-4 years ago it was pretty and soft. I still remember the day it came to our apartment and how cool it was to make our first big grown up purchase. Life has happened. The couch started peeling so it got a slip cover. Then the loveseat started peeling so it's now covered. Meanwhile I've been ashamed so I've hidden my peeling furniture from the view in my pictures.

We've moved things around, gotten a new sofa but the love seat is still there, peeling. It sheds its little brown flecks on my vacuumed carpet. It thankfully hasn't gotten in Lily's mouth much because we avoid it. I used to try to cover it with a blanket but blankets tend to turn into capes with Isla pretending to be Elsa. The cover helps some but it's still peeling and messed up under the cover. I stopped asking people over because I'm embarrassed of my peely loveseat.  You'd think I wouldn't care but I do.

Our solution has been just deal with it. Vacuum more often. Don't sit on it as much. This weekend it's being relocated to our family room because the superficial streak in me likes her pretty living room more than the practical side who speaks that moving it gives us  more seating in the family room. I realize at times I care far too much about what others might think of me. There are people in this world who feed their children dirt cakes to ease hunger pains and I've been embarrassed over furniture.

There have been times when I've felt imperfect so I've put my own slip cover on and hidden myself. Then others I've been too real and felt ashamed at how I've felt and what I said.

It's humbling when you realize you've been wrong. It's sometimes a struggle to remember to be grateful for what is in my life even if it's not my vision of perfect. That I have peeling couches that may be covered up, stains on my carpets from dogs and kids that seem to happen more often than not, and with each of these things and lives comes mess, responsibility, and blessings more than I could fathom. I feel so undeserving yet they are there in my life. Even when I lose sight of my priorities.