Living in the Moment

We’ve lived in our house for almost two years now, and it’s just beginning to feel like home.

House moving is tricky, for me, because I waiver between wanting to relish the process of growing in to a place, and just wanting it to be done already. Particularly with this house, though, I’ve noticed my impatience so much more. Perhaps because our family grows and changes so rapidly, and it doesn’t feel as if the house is able to keep up with that. Perhaps I have not been able to keep up with it as much as I would like, in my faulty attempts at balance, or complete lack thereof. And perhaps I’ve just not had a chance to unpack all the boxes and sweep the cobwebs and clean the corners in two years.

Partially, I think what this house lacks is a lived-in-ness. By which I mean, despite having existed for thirty years, it mostly seems to have been a stop-over point. So, closets and pantry are not particularly useful, or well thought out. There is no linen closet. There are just lots, and lots of coat closets. The office in which I keep all the “no touching” items away from the kids still appears to be in full 1980s fashion. In short, the functionality of the home is lacking. So, while we work away at trying to meet our family’s needs, in the limited time we have for these things, we think about how to make this a live-in-able home for us.

We don’t plan on moving. Brandon and I plan on making it exactly ours. And we both value a practical, useful, comfortable home.

Practical, useful, and comfortable takes time, and thought and money to create. And with those things being so scattered in our lives, and our debt free goals in mind, ┬áit’s become a snail paced process. Adapting a home, and recognizing that the adaptations for a super young family may not be long-lasting is confounding as well. When do we paint the walls if the children are going to be writing on them for four more years? When do we rip out the carpet when we still have potty training to face?

So, as I plan how to revamp this office space in to a bedroom for the boys, and rearrange furniture in my head, and plan where things will go once they are built, I also have to acknowledge that some of these hopes and builds may be far off. And that we have to live in the present, where we have what we need, but perhaps not exactly what we want.

So, where does the desk with my computer go while I wait for my built in bookshelves with a built in desk to come along? Where do the boys sleep while I wait for the bunk beds? And where do I put all the things I no longer have room for, or that are not safe, or which can be broken? And when do I find the time to go through each item and determine it’s usefulness, beauty, or joy?

These things seem mundane when I stop to think about them in the grand scheme of life and world. But, they make up a huge part of my life. We spend our days at home and in the parks. When home is just a house, I cannot find comfort there. With the headlines on the news listing things over which I have so little control, I’ve found that diving head first in to home has reduced my anxiety over the bits I cannot change. But hanging that picture exactly to the left, or exactly one inch higher, that I can control. There is pleasure in the simple task of making something comforting, when all the world seems too much to bear.

What do you do, to make your house feel more like home?