Open House

I love my home, even though most of the time it feels strange to own so many grown-up things. Matt and I are pretty certain that we are still teenagers masquerading in adult lives. Owning a washer and dryer or actually having rooms that we call the "kids' bathroom" and "the office" have forced us to come to terms with the fact that we ARE adults attempting to live the facade of an adult life. Needless to say, my home is a constant reminder of this grown-up life that I lead, but it also serves as a reminder of how things can change over the years -especially when there are kids around. Let me give you a tour ...

My decorating style is hard to label. We find value in furniture that can stand the test of time (which includes kids and a dog) and that can hide stains REALLY well. Our art collection may not be expensive, but it is priceless. We have a Dannan original in the dining area - quite the conversation piece, really. A wonderful blend of colors. Crayola washable paints on white poster paper, roughly torn at the top. It is an impressionistic portrayal of the play equipment in the back yard, and she and I are holding hands right in front. If you look to the right, you will see the spotted cow on the pantry cupboard. It is more of a demonstration of how the sponge can re-create the Americana appeal. And of course we cannot forget the random signs that have been posted by Madison, my eight-year-old, inviting us to her most recent production (Irish Dance Show, 6pm, on the back porch, $1.00 a ticket, the baby is free) or advertising the cause that is currently near and dear to her heart (Donate shoes for Haiti here). Yes, the artwork around our house may not sell for much, but it is quickly amounting to a priceless collection. Just go in that room we call "the office" and look at the stacks of Dayus Kid Originals I need to somehow sort through this summer.

Continuing on the tour, you will notice the odd choice in paint. The cracked drywall and gray chip out of the base of the stairs represent a decorative fad we call the "Daddy was wrestling with the kids and fell down the stairs" period. The colorful variety in lines as you move up the stairs are a bit smudged as reminders that in our house, even the Magic Eraser has a challenge.

Entering into the boys room there is a sign that reads "No Gurls Alowd" written in Josh's own hand. Inside, their sports-themed room takes second stage to the picture of SpongeBob and Mr. Crabs talking to a ghost. This one was too great for Josh to bring downstairs, he hung it in his room so that he could "see it every day when he wakes up". This room is a boy's domain - and a tender reminder that my soon to be six-year-old has created quite the identity for himself. I probably should mention that he can't crawl into bed for the night if his toys are in the wrong boxes. Ahhhh - a child that takes after my own heart.

Taking a turn, we pass by "The Office". You know, that room that reminds Matt and I that we have real-world responsibilities. Looking into the office you can see . . . you know . . . let's just skip this one. I think I will kick these papers to the side and close the door. There - my favorite way to clean that monster of a room.

The last room is pretty big. It has to be, my girls are so different in their interests that this room has become an explosion of little girl dreams, hobbies, and imaginative play. My four-year-old's decorating style will warm your heart, and make you a little nervous if you happen to be Type A personality (I happen to be speaking from experience). Dollhouse, stuffed animals, play food and kitchen, dress-ups, a tea party table, books, and costume jewelery strewn here and there as streamer-like decorations in case "anyone comes over to her room for a party". My favorite is the constant seat that her stuffed Mammoth, "Apple", who also bears the nickname "Lydia", takes at her perpetual tea party. Oh, recently Apple (aka Lydia) has been sporting a Dorothy wig and tutu.

The other side of the room is Madison's think tank. Books EVERYWHERE. A pink stain on the carpet from a failed science experiment. It mostly failed because I walked in on it - I am still not sure what made the concoction pink. A box of stencils so that she can easily make her Recycle labels. Three notebooks are on her desk: her book of original stories, her diary, and her book where she writes all her lists. On her shelves the blend of toys work to remind me that Madison is in-between the fantasy world of a little girl and the "cool" existence of a pre-teen.

That completes our tour. Please help yourself out and as you leave, pay no mind to the stacks of laundry or the scratched walls, or even the rubberbands and duct tape that are keeping cupboards and drawers closed and wires secured. It seems our one-year-old is a budding escape artist and locksmith. He is starting to leave his mark around our home as well.

Over the years I have changed my perspective on many things - my sanity has relied on it. I used to think, "This house is a mess!" Now I just tell myself, "This home doesn't look too bad considering that six people live here." It doesn't matter what room I am in, they all have the little artifacts and imperfections to remind me that a house creates chores, but a home creates opportunities to love, make memories, and grow.