Yesterday morning Michael and I awoke bright-eyed. We had a full day of plans to squeeze in before our Sunday Jags Game routine later on in the evening. We’ve slowly over the past few months been making an attempt to re-design our home. As Sundays are our only full day together child-free, we try to get in as much work as we can. The one thing I felt was missing for so long was pictures. There’s just something so warm to me about a home filled with pictures. Scattered through my mother’s house there are an abundance of photos of my sister and me. From family photos, to vacations, and every school or sports event in between- they’re there reminding me of my childhood. I want that kind of warmth for myself and for my family.
So shortly after I woke yesterday I decided to order some prints for the house like I’ve been meaning to do for awhile now. I decided to craft together some frames for some of the larger prints and hang them in our entry way. I’m really quite happy with the turn out and now everyday when I walk through the front door, these are what I get to see.
It’s little things like this that really make me feel happy when I’m home alone working. While Riley is at school, and Michael is off at work I’m still surrounded by silly faces.
It’s so easy to get caught up in the material. Wanting all these beautiful things. I can’t count the number of times a day I swoon over the designer spaces. They mesmerize me with their elegance and simplicity. Their clean lines and perfectly placed props serve their purpose for the magazines. But who lives in these homes? And how warm can they really be? With their white crisp walls, not a dirty hand print in sight. Surely these homes can’t provide the sanctuary for their owners that my home does for me.
It’s Days like today I really take a step back and see that it’s not the “stuff” we put in our houses that makes them homes, it’s so much more.
It’s little footsteps running to greet you as you walk in the door after a long day.
It’s cozy couch cuddles watching cartoons, and cereal spills on the rug.
It’s the bouncing, laughter, and joy in an afternoon tickle war.
It’s a warm meal shared together at the dinner table.
It’s homework trials and triumphs, and the kisses and high-fives that come with them.
It’s trampoline bounces, and hide-and-seek, and “Jinx, you owe me a soda.”
It’s hugs and smiles, fun facts, and silly jokes.
It’s piles of laundry, and un-made beds. It’s toys scattered across the floor.
It’s made up songs and witty comebacks.
It’s adventure seeking, exploring, and creating together.
It’s smelly trash, and dishes, and clogged drains.
It’s good mornings and goodnights, and all the moments in between.
It’s conversations about the future, and all that’s to come.
It’s the laughing, and screaming, and crying absorbed by these very walls. The decibels high and low.
It’s us. Every inch of it is us.
Every single second of every single day, it’s us. These homes wouldn’t be more than structures if it weren’t for the people, love, and joy that fill them. The things that make up my home wouldn’t mean a thing if it weren’t for the ones I shared them with. And so for now I’ll be content as I hammer my nails and cover my walls with the images of what really makes our house a home- our family.