The Home that Is

I am just back from the school my kids attend.  The silence (well, near) of my house is such a joyful and renewing sound.  LP is fussing a bit as he struggles to understand that it is nap time.  The dog has pranced around the yard and has returned to her warm spot in the living room.  She lays in the sunshine, and as the day goes on she'll move with the sun in the multi-windowed room.

There are boxes in the basement yet to be unpacked.  There are boxes of electronics to my right.  Cords and remotes.  A tv screen and a printer yet to be hooked up.  On the couch is a pile of papers which no one knows quite what to do with.  In the living room LP's various play seats and play mats are scattered around.  Only one piece of art has been hung on the wall.  The Christmas decorations have been taken down in various spots, but not being fully packed away, leaving piles of garland, ornaments and decorations on various tables.

It is complete chaos.  It is not how I want it to be.  It is not how it will always be.  But this is how it is today.  It feels like home.

Just a few months ago, I renewed my obsessive search for a new home.  I began to look at the homes listed on my local realtor's webpage and one day a white colonial  from the late 70's showed up in our price range.  It is in the neighborhood that we had narrowed our search to and many parts of its description fit our criteria.  For no real reason outside of "why not" we scheduled a showing.  Our house had not sold.  We had only recently re-listed it as "FSBO."  There were many other areas of our life we could (should) have been attending to, but I couldn't (wouldn't) let this part go.

We toured the home.  Both of us stated that it was nearly perfect for our price and requirements and went back to our lives.

A few more weeks past and with just one showing our house sold.  We immediately took a second look at this home and the proverbial "ball" was officially in motion.

It has everything our other house didn't.  A large yard.  A bedroom for everyone.  Walls between rooms.  Stainless steal appliances. grin.  (If I ever hear someone say how immensely important these are to the purchase of a home again, I may scream right then and there.  If you hang out with me, you have been forewarned.)  Closet space.  Room for toilet paper under the bathroom cabinets.  A garage large enough for two cars.  Flat streets to learn to ride bikes on.  Large older trees.

It also has character.  Or flaws, depending on how you frame the world.

This is perhaps what I love most about it.  The fact it isn't all shiny and new.  It isn't falling apart or in need of work.  But the walls have held many a frame and there have been some projects that went better than others.  Previous owners have added layers of improvements, along with changes that make us scratch our heads.

It feels like a home.  It doesn't completely feel like our home, but it will.  Someday soon I'll get the photos and art hung.  I'll dig out the various projects I have been meaning to do and I can just feel my creative energies begin to take flight.

It came with no magical properties.  Our lives weren't radically changed just by casting off the old house and donning a new one.  The kids still run around crazy before school--forgetting they need socks and shoes (every day, people...every. day.)  We are still late for worship on Sunday mornings.  LP still doesn't sleep through the night.  I haven't lost any weight or picked up a weight for that matter.  My husband still obsesses about odd things.

There is still work to do.  But now, I guess I feel like this Work in Progress has a space in which to do her work more effectively.  Still work, but at least now I feel at home while I have at it.