I found a house today – one I want to buy. One that’s perfect for our next home and amazingly isn’t listed at a zillion dollars. It has the eat-in kitchen with an island I so crave. And it has a garage (2 car!) for my husband. And a good sized, flat, backyard for the baby who will be a kid before I know it. And it’s got 4 bedrooms, one more than ours. And the basement is finished – something this house could never have.
But we’re not ready to sell, not yet at least. The earliest we could even think about putting our house on the market is at the end of summer. And that’s only if we REALLY crack down and get all these last little projects done.
So why am I looking? I don’t know. I have no good answer for that, but I look almost daily. This listing I found today, literally went up last night. Not even all the pictures are uploaded and I’ve already bookmarked it. I can’t help myself, I love houses and I love our little village (as wildly expensive as it might be) and I enjoy fantasizing about what our next house will look like. But toady I noticed something else too…
In all of my daydreaming about our next purchase, our ‘forever home’ this house has become a home, our ‘right now’ home. We never intended to stay in this house for long, it’s too small and it lacks things that we both really want. But somehow, quietly over the last two years, it has grown a space in our hearts.
Right now anywhere on the first floor you can smell the aroma of Spicy Mexican Chicken seeping from the slow cooker. The cat has firmly planted himself by the open back door and the year’s first spring breeze is blowing through the kitchen. I do love those new French doors. And I’m playing ‘coffee house’ Pandora radio throughout the house thanks to the Sonos speaker system my parents gave us for Christmas. And my new Serena & Lily throw pillows arrived yesterday and they perfectly match the couch and because of them I’ve finally decided on a window treatment for the living room. And I think I want to spend some more time organizing the bookshelves so they’re just right. Oh and I’ve found the perfect rug for the entry hallway – I should get that before summer. It will look great with the bench in the entry.
It was during all of these thoughts happening at once that I realized – our house suddenly (or not so suddenly) became a home. Our home. This is where we do our day-to-day, where we live out our lives. This is where we yell at the dog to stop chasing the cat and where we cuddle up on the couch to watch our shows. I’ve made some really good meals here (and a few bad ones!) and we’ve had friends and family over many times – I know this just flipping through our guest book. We’ve had a lot of laughs and a few tears under this roof. And this is the place we’ll bring our first (and maybe our second) child home to. This will be the first home they’ll know, and they will forever remember it as that. The thought alone just floors me.
We are now starting to make memories in our home instead of about our home. In the past few months, this house has become less a ‘project’ and more a ‘setting’ for our story.
Yes I know that the guest bathroom remains unfinished, untouched really. And I have empty walls going up the stairs. And the front porch project still looms in our future. And there’s no door on the master bathroom yet, nor do we have a linen closet or shelving above the toilet…but we will. All of these things will happen. I’ve learned that about us, we get things done. We’ve transformed this house and we’ll keep doing so. We’ve changed it so much that I don’t even recognize it as a project anymore it’s just…home. And home isn’t ever finished, it shouldn’t be. Only on TV. Only in the fantasy land of home renovation shows is everything perfectly in place. There is no more journey – the show has to end. But we still have a lot of journey left, our show isn’t over. And I’m excited to see it play out in our little tiny, but very happy, home.