Home. Seven years later. 

This house became our home seven years ago this summer. I fell in love with the trees, the neighborhood, and the energy of the home. It was love at first sight.  We bought from the original owners. Built in 1960, a family was born and raised here. You could feel it the moment you walked in the front door. As we toured the house, I saw Cole running from his bedroom, down the stairs to a room filled with Christmas presents. I heard the laughter of children in the walls. I was very much in love. 

Our dreams were big when we moved in. The house needed (needs) love poured back into it. This home has poured its love into others, and it was (is) begging to be loved in return. We had a five year plan. We’d make it ours. 

Then life happened. Chet joined our family. Income shifted to daycare and new cars. Little by little we made some changes. A new bathroom, new furniture to create an office space for Christian, some new paint, yet the five year plan sat on the shelf. It gathered dust with all the untouched projects in our home. 

This morning I woke up, and I knew it was time.  Clouds filled the sky cancelling our pool plans. Instead we began what we always intended to do. First on the list was the removal of the family room’s built in shelves, gun cabinet and closet. Occuping the last three feet of our family room, it had overstayed its welcome. 

Starting somewhere
Demo began. Layer by layer we peeled back all the wood that was no longer serving our home or our family. We pried each nail out of the wall. We patched the holes. We laughed at everything we exposed (mint walls and mint speckled lineleum floors). Our room began to breathe. 

Next step: paint
Like all good life renovations, it’s never easy. It never ends quickly. One problem exposes another until you’re left with a clean slate and a solid structure to rebuild your existence. 

Tonight we are left with a room filled with clutter, half painted walls, missing carpet, and a brand new perspective of our home. The vision of what our home is meant to be is starting to take shape. 

As we purge, clean and carefully select everything we want this space to be, we will be living in the mess for a while. Transformation can’t be rushed. Change happens slowly. Little by little we are pouring love back into this home. 

Together this house and I are finding our room to breathe. 

Buried in our walls
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