"Corner Under the Stairs"

Yes, I know it's an odd name. I've meant to explain several times. I keep forgetting. Or getting distracted. Shocking, I know.

There is a group of mom that meets at my house to pray for each other and decompress. And have an adult conversation. The kids tear the house apart and we sit in the living room and chat and pretend to discuss a book we're supposed to read. One afternoon we were talking about having a place of our own -- you know, a place that the kids weren't supposed to touch. A place you could leave scissors on the table or tiny bananas you've made from frosting and no one will come out a few minutes later having bit the head off the cake topper you've just made or cut their hair off with the scissors. A place where you could shut the door and craft or scrapbook, or pretend to do something while having a moments peace and no one tapping you on the shoulder (which, I swear to God, actually happened as I typed that sentence...). One mom in particular (who has a little bit of a crazy house and insists on babysitting on top of it) expressed the wish to be able to organize her craft supplies and have even just a small space that her things could be HER THINGS. She mentioned that there was this corner under her stairs that was meant to be a large storage closet and all her craft stuff was in there just waiting to be organized and it was going to be her corner. I got this instant mental picture of a mom huddled in a tiny closet. There's a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. No windows, bare walls. And she looks a little crazy. She hasn't showered, her clothes are a little eskew and she's in the fetal position hugging her knees and rocking and humming. She's gone a little batty. The kids are pounding on the door outside, yelling, "Mom! Mom! Where are you?" In my head it was pretty funny. So I giggled. And then had to share the mental picture with the rest of the group so they would understand why I was laughing at her obviously serious revelation. It became a standing joke that meeting that we'd go to our "corner under the stairs", but the truth is, as moms we NEED a corner. History tells us that Susannah Wesley, the mother of the famed preachers, Charles and John Wesley, would take her apron and pull it up over her head to make a private place to pray in her crazy household. She needed a corner. Moms need a second. Sometimes it's enough privacy to cry. Sometimes it's because we need a timeout as badly as the kids do. Sometimes it's just needing enough quiet to remember what we were thinking. Or have a thought. Sometimes it's just the desire to pee in peace (why is it more disasters seem to happen to a 3 year old at that time than any other?). Or maybe hear what the voice on the other end of the line is trying to yell. We need a corner under the stairs. So, the name has reason. The reason is a place to think, a moment out of time to sit and collect my thoughts. Turns out either I don't have as many thoughts as you might think or I don't have as much time to think them as I thought. Turns out I really do need a corner under the stairs!