I’ve moved a lot in my (almost) 35 years.  This house is one of over twenty places that I’ve called home at one point or another.

Then, I missed my little old house.  With floors that creaked at every step and cupboard doors that fell off their hinges when you opened them too quickly.  I never thought I’d miss it.  But I did.  We had painted every room, utilized every space and created our life there.  It was our first home as a complete little family unit.  The old woodwork and brick fireplace etched itself on my heart in a way I didn’t expect while I was adding up the cost of every single home repair we had to make.

I hated this space. It had rooms I didn’t have furniture to fill – didn’t even know how to fill and it felt so new{ish}.  No lead paint or asbestos to worry about but no battered 8″ moldings or cut glass windows either.  I missed the charm.   I loved having the space to put my belongs but hated not being able to hear my son when he was playing on the opposite side of the house.

I was terrified that I would never like living in this house – a house I told my husband I adored.

And then this weekend that all changed.  The weather warmed up.  We opened the windows.  Puttered in the yard.  I reviewed a list of ongoing projects and tackled a few of them.  I rearranged the plans for how each room is going to be used.  I started to see what I wanted my house to look like in a few years.  And it started to feel like my home.

I love that I can hear spring peepers when our windows are open.  I love that from 3:30-8pm.  I can hear kids running around and riding bikes and playing basketball outside.  I love that I don’t have to share one tiny bathroom with the whole house every morning.  I love that it took me a little over six months (and some hand me down and thrifted finds) to find my vision, but that I did find my vision.

Now to call the electrician so I can tackle a couple of those projects!