Our house is lived in. It feels like no matter how hard I try, I just can't keep up with our house these days. Our house used to be so neat, everything had a place, it was a happy, organized home. Now I look around and our once pristine, white countertops are covered in crumbs, spilled milk, dishes and groceries. Our shiny hardwood floors are also covered in spilled milk and of course, dog hair. You can always count on either the washer or the dryer to be full. And nine times out of ten the wash will have to go for a second round. Nothing has a place anymore, or rather, everything has a place, everywhere.
Sometimes it feels overwhelming and sometimes I let it get me down because I'm not doing it all.
Most days though, I'm ok with it. Even more than that, I'm thankful for a lived in home. I'll never tire of the tiny footprints on the floors or the sticky baby fingers on the windows and mirrors. The crumbs and groceries on the counters are a sign of a well-fed family. A sign of a baby who is growing into a little boy and eating what we eat. There is always a hansel and gretel trail of diapers throughout our home, a sure sign that Henry has gotten into the diaper box and sprinkled them all over. My husband comes home to Tupperware landmines all over the kitchen floor, but that's because my little guy has to be right by my side at all times and I love having my tiny kitchen helper. The dog hair is there because Tego's grooming sessions don't happen as frequently as they used to, but more importantly because she is constantly chasing Henry around as I playfully shout,"Tego's going to get you, Henry!!" as he run-crawls, giggling hysterically.
Our house is a home now. It's messy, it's lived in and it has a story to tell. I will never take this messy, lived in home for granted. I will try to always remember that there is nothing about our home to get down about. It's a beautiful mess. It's a happy home, with a happy family. <3