Our Home

I sit in our living room, curled up on my favorite green chair with silence surrounding me for a few more minutes before that yellow bus comes down the road. I look around at this partially finished room. There is a piece of plywood in place of a railing by the staircase (that never got it’s second layer of paint when we moved in). There is fresh drywall, with some spots still needing mud and tape, let alone a couple coats of paint. There are some cobwebs in the corners, which I’ll blame on this growing pregnancy. (Although truth be told, I’m not much of a cleaner even without a big belly.) Our floors are plywood, stained from months without mopping and drops of paint from miscellaneous art sessions. There are holes in the walls from rewiring electrical work.

These details usually don’t even register in my mind though. I see the room that has been our gathering place for the last 3 years. I also see how it will be one day, all freshly painted and decorated. (And clean maybe? Am I pushing it?) I see love in the way the books are haphazardly tossed onto the bookshelf by the kids, as they hurriedly cleaned up before bedtime snack last night. I also see love in the fact that there are tools and bathroom reno supplies piled by the door. Nic has spent many late nights working on our home.

Besides the construction zone look, there are the random pieces of furniture that we’ve accumulated over our almost seven (!!) years together. This dresser was a deal found at the local thrift store when we were fresh newlyweds. We had no idea of what the coming years would bring when we bought it. It has stood in our living room in every house we have lived in since, seeing many spilt coffee cups and kids climbing on it. Across the room is our still brown bookshelf that has been painted many different shades in my mind, but something more important always comes up before I get it done in real life. There is the piano that Nic surprised me with for my birthday a couple years ago. I look at it and I see his sheepishly proud grin when I came home, pleased with himself for figuring out such a good gift and actually surprising me. The antique rocking horse that looks so well loved and worn sits quietly next to the rocking chair, waiting for the kids to wake up and go for a ride. It was Nic’s first Christmas present so many years ago. On our mirror hangs a sign made by a dear friend that says simply You are so loved. A reminder for myself, my husband, and our children; we are all loved, treasured, and wanted in this house.

Adding the separate stories together begins to tell the story of our family. Our home isn’t perfect or finished, there is a lot of work and cleaning that needs to be done everyday. There’s a lot of character and love in every room. I’d say that it’s a pretty good representation of our family.