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.
And I fell in love with it. Instantly. Until we moved into it.
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!
