a day in the life of a latvian mom

Yet, amidst the chaos, I’ve discovered something profoundly comforting: my bath. Yes, that’s right. Even in this incomplete setting, with construction materials scattered and the faint echo of power tools in the background, I have found my personal sanctuary.

Let me paint you a picture. Our bathroom isn’t exactly what you’d call “finished” at the moment. The drywall isn’t up, the tiles are just half-set, and the vanity is still waiting to be installed. But despite the lack of traditional aesthetics, there stands the most magnificent bathtub I’ve ever encountered. It’s large, it’s inviting, and it’s uniquely mine.

The first time I sank into that tub, it was like discovering a hidden treasure. The water enveloped me in warmth, and the contrast of the incomplete room only made the experience more exhilarating. There’s something deeply satisfying about finding comfort in imperfection. I had expected a quick rinse and a dash out, but instead, I found myself lingering longer than planned.

There’s a sense of liberation in embracing the unfinished. The absence of doors and walls means there’s a panoramic view of the surrounding construction—yes, it’s not pretty, but it’s real. And in that space, I found tranquility. The sound of dripping water, the steam rising, and the comforting warmth of the bath became a sanctuary that transcended the chaos outside.

In a world where we’re often chasing perfection, it’s refreshing to realize that contentment can be found in unexpected places. My bath, with all its grandeur and imperfections, has taught me that joy doesn’t always come from completion. Sometimes, it’s about relishing the moment and finding peace where you least expect it.

So, here’s to the unfinished spaces and the unsung comforts they hold. My bath may not have walls, and it may not have doors, but it’s undeniably mine. And in its imperfect splendor, it’s the biggest, most comfortable bath I’ve ever had.