Little Belle's Mama

This summer was not at all how I pictured it when it came to spending time on our terrace. I had imagined cozy evenings after work, sitting outside with a drink in hand, talking, unwinding, and watching the sun go down. Instead, the reality was quite different. The terrace faces the sun directly, and as the days grew hotter, it felt more like standing in front of an open oven than enjoying an outdoor space. By the time evening arrived, the ground still radiated heat, and instead of relaxation, it often felt uncomfortable to be there. I thought we would be outside almost every evening, but we ended up retreating indoors most of the time.

Still, the terrace wasn’t completely unused. We found ourselves spending time there in a more scattered way, often because of our daughter. She absolutely loves playing in her little swimming pool, splashing around in the water whenever the heat was tolerable. She also has a small sandpit, and it was a joy to watch her dig, scoop, and pour for hours with that endless toddler energy. Sometimes we would join her after gardening, when we were already a bit dirty and didn’t mind the dust clinging to us. It was never the picture-perfect family evenings I had imagined, but these little pockets of time still carried their own kind of charm.

The real problem with the terrace, aside from the heat, was the dust and sand. Every time we wanted to sit down on the chairs, we had to clean them first. The wind carried loose particles across the floor, and it felt like no matter how much we swept or wiped, the seats would be dusty again within hours. It became an extra chore that took away from the idea of simply stepping outside and enjoying the moment. After a long day of work, who wants to first clean before even sitting down? That frustration was one of the biggest reasons we did not make as much use of the space as I had hoped.

But yesterday we finally made some changes, and it already feels like a new beginning. We decided to rearrange the terrace a little. The biggest shift was moving the sandpit to a different corner, one that is a bit more sheltered. This way, when the wind blows, the sand scatters into an area where no one sits instead of drifting toward the chairs and table. It was such a simple adjustment, but it has already made a big difference. For the first time in weeks, we sat outside for the entire evening without once feeling annoyed by sand sticking to us or dust covering the seats. Our daughter played happily while we relaxed, and it felt like the terrace was finally serving its purpose as a family space rather than a place we avoided.

What surprised me most was how much of a shift in mood this change brought. A terrace is not just a physical extension of the home. It is also an emotional one. When it is messy or uncomfortable, it weighs on your mind, a constant reminder of something that is not working as it should. But when it becomes pleasant and functional, it feels like a gift. Yesterday evening carried that sense of rediscovery. We had dinner indoors as usual, but afterward we carried our cups of tea outside, let the breeze wash over us, and just stayed. The air was cooler, softer, and our daughter’s laughter filled the space. It was nothing extraordinary in the big picture of life, yet it felt like a moment worth remembering.

I think the change in season is also helping. Summer has its brightness and energy, but it can be relentless, especially in a place where the sun beats down without mercy. The idea of sitting outside when the ground is still hot and sticky is not very inviting. Fall, on the other hand, promises balance. The air cools just enough to make evenings outdoors refreshing. The light softens, the sun sets earlier, and there is something calming about the way the season invites slower moments. We are hoping that this fall we will finally enjoy the terrace in the way I had dreamed of months ago.

What excites me most is not just the idea of spending time there as adults but also the joy it brings our little one. She can now run around more freely without us worrying about the sand constantly blowing into our laps. She can still play with water, still dig in the sand, but in a way that does not disrupt the space for everyone else. Watching her play is a kind of entertainment that television or phones can never compete with. Children at this age find magic in the smallest things, whether it is pouring water from one cup to another or pushing a little truck through the sand. Their joy is contagious, and being outside together makes us part of it.

I realize now that perhaps my initial disappointment in the terrace was not just about the dust or the heat. It was also about the gap between my expectations and reality. I had created a picture in my mind of how it would be, and when life did not match that picture, I felt let down. But reality is never as neat as our imagination. It is always shaped by small inconveniences and constant adjustments. By moving the sandpit, by accepting that summer is not the ideal season for terrace evenings, we are not just rearranging furniture. We are also rearranging our own mindset.

It is a gentle reminder that sometimes we need to let go of how we thought something should be in order to embrace how it actually can be. Maybe we will not spend every evening outside this fall, but even a few good evenings, spent without frustration, will be worth it. Evenings where the chairs stay clean, the air stays cool, and our daughter plays happily by our side. Evenings where we do not feel rushed or burdened but instead grateful for a little pocket of peace in our day. That is more than enough.

As I look forward to the coming weeks, I feel a quiet kind of hope. Not the big dramatic kind that comes with grand plans, but the softer kind that grows from small adjustments and a willingness to try again. Our terrace may never be perfect, but it is ours. And as the season turns, we are ready to claim it back, one evening at a time.