Completely At Peace

When I am lucky enough to be in my store without my kids for the day, I feel at peace.  I know it will be productive day and that I don't have to stress over possibly giving Miss K shit while there is a customer in the store.  I don't have to worry about Andrew face planting while he does his crawling obstacle run over the bottom bars of the garment racks.  Don't get me wrong - I love the fact that I've created a job for myself where I can have my children with me, if need be.  But I really enjoy the days where it is just me.

Given the fact that today is -bazillion outside, I have a feeling it will be a quiet day on the sales front. And I'm okay with that.  There are always things to do. Every day, I do a once over of the clothes, making sure they are neatly hung on the hangers and that they are evenly spaced.  I mop.  I dust.  I straighten.  I fill in empty spaces of product with more stock.  If the store front is tidy and taken care of, then I make sure our "living space" is clean and neat.  Always busy, always moving.

But my favourite part of the day is getting new consignors or opening a new bin of clothing.  It's like Christmas for me.  What treasures of clothes will I find? Although I ask my consignors to bring the clothes neatly folded, there are times I secretly like it when they are jammed into a plastic bag and completely scrunched up.  Why? Because it is when I am steaming the clothes that I am completely at peace.

There is something about turning the radio off and letting steamer warm up and hearing that "whoosh" as it lets out the first puff of steam that just calms this highly anxious heart.  I don't know what it is.  Maybe it's the satisfaction of taking wee, rumpled clothing and turning them back into presentable garments, ready to be worn again.  I'm not sure.

What I do know is that if I'm at peace while steaming shirts and pants, I'm damn near zen while steaming newborn sleepers.  As I'm holding those tiny sleepers, be it zippered ones or ones with a thousand buttons that are a nuisance in the middle of the night, my mind loves to drift and think about the tiny baby that once wore that sleeper.  I think about how in those early days, shortly after birth, there is such a flood of emotion....love and fear, excitement and terrifiedness (yes, that's now a word).  I wonder whether the baby was a good sleeper or if he/she kept it's mama up all night.  I wonder whether the baby liked to be swaddled or free-wheeling.  If I'm really quiet, I swear I can almost hear the newborn coos that would have accompanied wearing such a tiny garment.

Each sleeper that I steam is like another swing of a hypnotist's watch and I sink deeper and deeper into a peaceful place.  So if you ever come in to the store and find my staring off into space with a stupid grin on my crooked lips, you'll know I've just finished prepping another batch of baby sleepers, ready to be worn by another wee baby :)