scribblechic

When we purchased my husband’s childhood home we projected our dreams with bold, eager statements of change. Loose this wall, add more light, create storage. We wanted our home to be comfortable and functional, welcoming and rejuvenating. We made room around the kitchen knowing guests gather at the heart of the home. We stretched our living space to encompass the outdoors. We created work space and play space giving everyone room for themselves and room to grow together.

We settled our children’s rooms first. Each child moving into a sanctuary from the chaos of construction around them. Our kitchen consumed the first year as we merged the divided space of our main floor, opening rooms to shared space. Our family room was stripped of dark paneling and brightened with paint, the bulky dark brick replaced with a simpler wood frame. The stained siding and weathered windows were replaced; the once overgrown backyard was tamed into an outdoor living room. The bathrooms a final time capsule of my husband’s youth.

Tomorrow the kids and I will leave for a quick visit to my parents’ home while my husband flushes our dated bathrooms. Gone is the giddy excitement for change, replaced with a peaceful expectation of completion. The hours, days, and months of distraction buried within each project will be traded for more time together.

There will be no more need to search ideas, filter options, spend finances on fixtures. As we near the end of our wishes for our house, I am drafting new wishes for our time together. Thinking more of how we live in this space we have made. Investing extra time and effort into the life we have built between these walls.

Tagged: Home, Musings