Small Spaces and Happy Faces
ByWhen I was pregnant with Aiden I nested to an extreme. I painted the walls and bought furniture. My towels matched and his nursery was planned out. I will never say that I am super domestic. I am not. However, I didn’t want to bring him into a house. I wanted him to have a home. That home is where we stayed for three years of our lives.
In September we had to move.
I have always resisted change. Actually, I have always been petrified of change..if we are being honest here.
We moved into an apartment with white walls. An apartment with only one bedroom. An apartment with carpet that would make any designer cringe.
I was scared and heartbroken. I was sure that I was a bad mother. I was sure there wasn’t enough room. Where would our stuff go? Where would the pictures and knick knacks I had collected go? How could this be a home?
It couldn’t. It was and is just a house.
I feel no attachment to it. And if you walked in here today it looks much like a college dorm. The furniture doesn’t match. There are posters hanging slanted on the walls.
But that is ok.
Because we are here. And this small space has reminded me to cuddle more. This little apartment reminded me that life isn’t a smooth ride. That not every house is a home. That things change and sometimes you just have to roll with the punches. Because, we won’t be here (in this house) forever.
But we will be a family forever.
And that is what matters.
Not the knick knacks and the photos. Not the extra space and the big yard.
Family.
Aiden and I.
That matters.
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[...] A few days a go I wrote a post about us moving. [...]
Cassie…much like yourself I spent the years from birth to college constantly on the move, and it never occurred to me that my gypsy childhood wasn’t normal. Once I (finally) found the man I needed to spend my life with and my baby girl was on the way, I was DESPERATE to have a forever home. We bought the first house that made my heart flutter, simply because I loved the red glass window in the entry (fyi, not a good reason to buy a house). Years of remodeling later, I still feel like I don’t have a grown-up house. I figured out that there is something significantly more important than having a perfect house, oddly enough from a line I read on the top of a metal can that I found at a gift shop. “Home is where the mom is.” Simply put, this is what gives your child a home. It does not matter where you are or what you have. What matters is that you are together, that wherever you are is filled with love, and that your Home (capital H intended) is where you and your child are safe, comfortable in your own skin, and surrounded with everything you really need (love, support, hugs, kisses…the good stuff). You have given him a wonderful home…wherever you are.