The Truth About the White Couch
If you have followed me for a bit you know I tell it like it is. You may also know that I have 4 children and a dog, so you know my house is lived in. What you may not know is that I have always dreamed of having a beautiful white couch. When we were moving and finally building our Modern Farmhouse from the ground up, I decided it was time. After all, my kids are 17, 15, 13 and 7. I should be safe at this point (right?!?!).
So we purchased a beautiful white sectional in a performance fabric so it can stand some wear and tear. I made myself promise I would flip and swap the cushions so it wouldn’t get all lopsided like our microfiber one did. I committed myself to love on this couch.
Listen, my husband grew up with plastic on the couches that didn’t come off until after we were married. I’m not going to go to that extreme, however, I do realize that the white couch comes at a cost.
You can see the pills on the edges in this pic.
The truth is the couch is causing me anxiety. LOL, pathetic right. When someone opens a bag of cheetos or BBQ chips I tense up a bit. I never wanted to be that person who is constantly like “don’t scratch the floor,” or “get your dirty feet off the couch,” however I just want this one thing. We have worked really hard to be able to afford nice things and I have TWO other couches upstairs where you can jump all you want.
I also regularly have a date with my couch. I take out the fabric shaver and the vacuum and give my couch some TLC. I shave the pills off (microfiber couches don’t do that), vacuum, fluff and switch the cushions to even out the wear. Sometimes it’s a nice ASMR activity and sometimes I’m like “Wow, what has my life come to.”
If you would ask me to recommend a white couch, I would ask how old your children are. If they are under 10 (yes, I realize I still have one in that age range), I would say absolutely not. I would say you need to think of a white couch as a rite of passage. One that will come in due time, when you will be missing the days of painted fingers, playdoh balls and crayon marks on the walls. But for now embrace the chaos and don’t cause yourself the stress that comes with being obsessed with your white couch. I can’t believe I’m saying this…but I wish I waited a few more years.
