Bowl of Nutshells: Adventures

Last weekend my dear, darling mother-in-law took me shopping. This is dangerous. My mother-in-law loves to buy, buy, buy, and I don't know how to say no, no, no.

Luckily I realize this, which means she hadn't taken me shopping in about a year and a half. But it was time.

I came to the conclusion that John's mom has bought me more clothing in the past 3 years than my own mother has in my entire life. This shouldn't be surprising since my mom knew how to say no for me, and most of my clothes growing up were second-hand (I am the youngest of ten belonging to an elementary school teacher, after all).

I don't want to get you the wrong idea. I love Carol and I love shopping with her. I had a blast spending time with a woman I adore. And let's face it, I'm not perfect; I thoroughly enjoy being spoiled rotten to the core.

Okay, hopefully I'm not rotten to the core.

But I am definitely spoiled.

Two hours in the dressing room and I am exactly

6 cardigans, 7 dresses, 10 shirts, 4 pairs of jeans (one coral colored), and 3 pairs of shoes more spoiled.
That's just attire.
And that's with me saying "I don't think so" a lot.

Oh, and see the heels on the right?
These:

That's right. I own sparkly heels.
This makes me muy happy.
I would never have bought them for myself. I just don't need them, so I simply wouldn't buy them. Carol, however, has no such inhibitions. I tried them on just to try them on, and she insisted I get them.
Isn't she cute?

I gave John a fashion show the next day:

This would make my Sarah Lynn proud (even if there is a lack of scarves)

I bought while with Carol something that John and I have been searching for: a comforter.
We painted our bedroom purple and cream and have been trying to find the right bed spread to go with it. We've found plenty of purple comforters, even in King size, and for a good price. But there's always been something wrong with them. Too "90's," too silver, too tan...so we had finally decided we might need to settle. But then the magically perfect one showed up.

Isn't it purdy?
We've been loving it.

I love our bed. I convinced John that we needed a King size. He thinks it makes us too far apart and he'd be perfectly happy with a double. Ugh. I'm glad I convinced him. Though our bed is somewhat...enormous. We got my brother's old bed frame when they switched, so it's free even if it's not what we would have picked out. But now we have our comforter and our purple sheets (several sets) and as soon as we get the all right pillows it will be perfect.

Almost there.

There is a vague point to all my ramblings here -- surprisingly enough.
As I skipped giddily around my house this week I realized how happy having nice things makes me. This is weird because I don't consider myself very material...and yet clearly I am. So I thought about it more.

Yes, I am a material person. I value material things.
Material things give me happiness, even lasting (time-wise) happiness.
My huge house continues to make me happy. My painted walls continue to make me happy. My gadget-stocked kitchen continues to make me happy. My collection of books continues to make me happy. Some of my random purchases from the dollar store continue to make me happy.

However, my happiness does not hinge on material things. I am quite happy without all these things, and was before I had them. All of these things are just added bonuses on an already wonderful life. That's how I see them. And that's why I think my life is amazing.

I have everything I could need: a wonderful husband, loving and lovable family and friends, my basic needs taken care of
I also have everything I could want: A loving and successful marriage, a home of our own, time to spend with those I care for, financial security, health, the ability to learn and grow,
Then I get all these extras: A house we could never outgrow, an overflowing wardrobe (with a closet that makes it seem small), a gorgeous kitchen, the money to buy most whimsical desires, a cute puppy to keep me company

People who know me know I am a very happy person. I always have been. But I'm pretty sure everyone else would be too if they had my life. My life simply rocks.
Yet, that's not really what makes me happy.
Choosing to be happy makes me happy.
And I choose to love the small things.