How to lean into sensory affirming interior design during seasons of change and bereavement.
Moving home, pet loss and sensory struggles
We’ve experienced a couple of big changes over the last few months. As an Armed Forces family we’ve recently moved house (again) into the latest Service Families Accommodation (SFA). With that has come new jobs, new schools and new friends, as well as the joy of rekindling relationships with those who are now physically so much closer to us with this move than we have been in years. Throw in a new church family and a few weeks lived staring at google maps whilst trying to navigate to the nearest Aldi and you get the picture.
Because of this lifestyle we up sticks and move on at the drop of a hat. We throw ourselves into the next move for all its worth, whilst always knowing that it’s a temporary effort.
The energies we invest this year in this new home will be next year’s passing memory.
For us, as for many, moving is always a time of adjustment. In addition, we have the bonus of living in a “neurospicy” household.
We’re always waiting for the shine of the newness and novelty to come away, reality to set in and the meltdowns to start.
Because of this, the importance of keeping home looking as much like “our home” as possible throughout house moves is paramount. When you walk in through the door, it should smell like home and it should have the hallmarks of home – regardless of how long it takes to unpack – if indeed you even unpack everything.
When you live with sensory processing difficulties (SPD), huge changes like house moves can be overwhelming and emotionally exhausting. For those who have the neurodiversities of ADHD and autism alongside having SPD, or live with loved ones who do, daily routines and task transitions such as the process of getting up, eating breakfast and then getting dressed ready for the day can be kept stable by keeping the routine in a similar lay out and pattern. “New home - new start” is not the mantra you are going to be moving with. It is much more, “New home – same start.” For this reason, it is so important that the furniture and soft furnishings that move with you are ones that meet you and your families need for sensory input, especially if you are renting, move regularly or expect to move in the future. The table covers, crockery and the favoured spoon will all come with you, but the textured flooring and built in pantry cannot.
Sometimes change can be welcome. I don’t mind the moving around as much as others. We’re used to moving on regularly, and, for Armed Forces families, it comes down to a decision between a hard choice and a hard choice. Do you stay in one place that is where you want to settle as a family, close to extended family for support? A place where the kids are stable in school and you can really make the house your own by having free reign over the decorating, but live a life of weekend commuting, not to mention the cost of fuel and additional accommodation. Or, do you move on with every posting, changing schools, moving houses and having to work out a new layout for all the furniture to fit in a different floor plan, yet you are together? The goodbyes are minimised but the cost is the children’s education and social fragmentation.
We chose our hard. We have tried it both ways over the years and always come to the same conclusion: The pros of one side of the coin are fantastic, but the cons on the other side are costly. It’s a zero-sum game. To put one family member first is at a detriment to another. There are no win-win scenarios. With every move we choose again, each time finding the choice more difficult as the school years tick by and our little people’s friendships become more meaningful.
It’s because of this lifestyle that the dandelion is the official symbol of the military child.
Adopted from the Dandelion Poem, by an unknown author,
“…the dandelion is blown on by the wind and puts down roots almost anywhere. Hardy with strong roots, ready to fly to new adventures and friends wherever the wind takes them...”
With every move I feel this. Each SFA we have lived in - complete with the silk magnolia walls – becomes a hotbed of very intense memories over a multitude of different chapters of our lives.
Short periods of these intense memories are now reduced to ghost-like echoes of seasons past.
The school run down particular streets with familiar faces rushing past in a smiling blur of the school drop off. Hurrying out the door in the morning with three toothbrushes in hand for them all to be done in the car because that is their routine and is simply how we get out the door in the mornings. The carpet stair frayed from the cat’s claws, desperately hoping it’ll go down as “general wear and tear” on the march out inspection. The chunks of door frame missing from the emotional meltdowns resulting in the IKEA mini chairs being thrown into the door. Permanent pen on the walls from a moment of impulsiveness and constant smear stains on the windows from the sensory need to plant their faces against the cold, smooth glass.
Each home has the hallmark signs of SPD and the effects that living with sensory issues brings.
With all of these relocations comes the need to rebuild our social circle and our lives, whilst investing our energies into new areas, clubs and people.
There are times that I have had to mourn the loss of a new friendship ever going beyond the basics, the loss of time to invest in opportunities and the haunting questions of what could have been if we had been able to stay longer.
Some of the changes are more predictable. Living in SFA, we know that our next home will have magnolia walls, light brown carpets – dark pink if we’re in a really old quarter - a questionable sink in one of the bedrooms, an inefficient oven and unimaginative, white 6x6 tiles across the kitchen and bathroom.
Nevertheless, with every move I come armed with an Amazon supply of Command Strips to put up all the photos and artwork – including the museum style display of Army photos that seem to have an unwritten rule about living in the downstairs loo – and a big batch of powder blue, Moroccan-style self-adhesive splashback tile stickers for the kitchen to make the house more home-like. Oh, and a new scratching post and bottle of Feliway for the cat!
Over the years I’ve come to know my style. I know how I can make each house look and feel like “us”. This is especially important when family members need predictability and recognisable features that give some visual stability in unchartered waters. The light brown carpets, magnolia walls and outdated white large tiles become comfortingly familiar – if not indeed trendy or yet able to be called “classic”. Whilst I spend much of our time in these homes dreaming up new floor plans, colour schemes and contemporary updates, every SFA takes on the personality of its new owner only to revert to its “March In” ready state at the end of the family’s tenure.
It doesn’t take lots of moving around to come to the realisation that home isn’t simply the character property, the postcode or even the view that our hearts hanker after. It’s the people and four-legged family members we make a home with, and the memories – the good and the less good – that doing life with them brings.
The grace we give each other for the meltdowns, the overwhelm and the shutdowns. The resilience we build in our dog-eared determination to not give up on those we call family when living with sensory processing differences.
And that grace and resilience gives us hope that whilst the challenges are steep, the mountain views from our joys, our small wins and our massive steps forward are so worth the journey.
In what feels like a season of seasons during the last year with this new move, came the loss of one of our beloved cats. Winston had been with us for 13 years. He was there from our first SFA back in 2011, through all my husband’s Deployments, Operations and Exercises. He oversaw the arrival of all three of our children, through to the most recent sixth home. He and his sister originally came to us as rescue kittens near Dartmoor and the size of his feet suggested he may be descended from that mythical beast rumoured to be romping about the area.
He was a pillow to many a tear, a little spoon to many a cuddle and a listening ear to many a moan. If I say he was a beast, he was a 7kg muscle cat that resembled a small house panther that loved nothing more than to be cradled like a baby, stroked and to hold his human’s hands, even going as far as seeking out the human paw of the six year old at bedtime, calming her with his presence and loud purr, whilst being a natural weighted blanket that oozed reassurance and comfort.
During this short time of his absence, I have noticed just how much I am now stroking the faux fur throws and listening for the rhythmic ticking of the many clocks around the house that help soothe and keep me in equilibrium. His much-adored sister, Maggie, has now promoted herself to Queen, feeds on demand and has entered the world of co-sleeping on our bed -what baby forums was she reading all this time?!!- but naturally being more independent, isn’t the type of cat that revels in being picked up and cuddled like her brother did. It didn’t take me long to realise that the host of positive sensory input I was getting from my multitude of cuddles with Winston, I was now getting through other areas in my home. Stroking soft textures back and forth was comforting and reassuring. Listening to the rhythmic back and forth ticking of the clocks in lieu of his heartbeat was regulating my own breathing and therefore my emotions, whilst weighing my lap and chest down with heavy duvets to mimic the weight of our own Beast of Dartmoor was my grounding.
When we lose the primary source of sensory input in our homes that we rely on to regulate, we naturally seek them out in other ways.
We may lose our primary sense of sensory input through moving home, and with that, a loss of a grounding gritty floor tile or the much-loved coloured walls that relaxed us just by looking at them. Or it could be through loss of a relationship. If, like me, it was a four-legged family member who provided the sought-after sensory feedback (how do cats smell so heavenly?!) through their soft fur, their weight leaning against you and their cuddles, then the hole can feel gaping from a sensory perspective, let alone from an emotional one.
They say that all behaviour is a form of communication.
The insatiable need for more sensory input by spinning, jumping and climbing on the furniture will come out in our homes through broken chairs, collapsed sofas and splintered bedframes. By understanding what the behaviour is telling us, we can work out new ways to create more appropriate and healthy outputs.
As adults, we adorn our homes with relaxing rocking chairs, productivity aiding spinning office chairs, and auditory affirming sound systems. It is from this experience that Wax & Wane Interiors was created. By choosing furniture, soft furnishings and a home design that mimics – and can handle – the sensory seeking needs of our family, we can create a home that grounds, regulates and restores. You create the home you need. Added to this, the next question asked is then how do we make the home you need meet your design tastes, your desires and your dream home? The answer is to marry both together. Purchase and invest in products and homewares that give the right level of feedback for everyone to find their equilibrium by simply being home. Don’t compromise and buy right first time.
If you’d like to start thinking about how to do this in your own home for yourself and your family, why not download the free Monthly Planner download on the Wax & Wane Interiors website. This complementary download includes A 31-day sensory audit for your home to introduce you to viewing your home from a sensory perspective, feel confident in your home, and cut out the overwhelm.
One of the services Wax & Wane Interiors offers is how to choose the right product. Whether you need a new dining table, bed frame or sofa that needs to withstand both the test of time and the jumping, spinning and climbing, or need help choosing a colour scheme or flooring options that work for you and not against you, then take a look at the “What I Offer” section on the website.
By drawing out sensory behaviours, requirements and personal style preferences, we can make your home one that affirms, upholds and envelopes you with the sensory needs to ground, regulate and restore.