For as long as I can remember, I thought of a good and happy home being a clean and spotless one.
I was a firm believer that if I had the floors completely cleaned and cleared, counter tops were decluttered, and every room in the house was Pinterest worthy, I was on top of my game.
But somewhere along these last few years, I realized something… I was spending more time fussing about having a perfect house, than actually enjoying it with the people I love the most.
Most days, there are legos thrown all over the floor, books scattered on tables and couches throughout the house, the dining room looks like a school house exploded in it, and there are art projects half done laying around somewhere.
There is plenty of evidence that our house being completely lived in.
And for the first time in years, I’m good with that.
Because it is lived in.
The legos and blocks on the floor are proof that my children are using their beautiful imaginations to create their own pretend little worlds.
The books scattered around the house tell a story about curious minds and a well rounded home education.
The art supplies and projects are my daily reminder that creativity matters more than a perfectly curated space in the house.
The older I get, the more I realize that a beautiful home doesn’t only mean a clean one. While yes, cleanliness is important, but what truly makes a home beautiful are the signs of everyday life.
It’s the half done puzzle on the kitchen table.
It’s the shoes kicked around in the entry way.
The dishes in the sink.
Book stacks waiting to be returned to the library.
Coffee cups sitting half empty waiting to be reheated.
A lived in home means people are comfortable in there. It means children feel free to play in it. It means learning is happening…. It means memories are being made.
Of course, cleaning still happens. In fact, all of my children have assigned daily/weekly chores. Trust me when I say I love an organized and tidy room; I love a freshly mopped floor that leaves the house smelling amazing.
But what I love even more is seeing the joy in my children’s faces as they enjoy the house we worked so hard for.
It’s seeing my husband getting home, kicking off his workbooks, and shifting from his provider role to fun dad mode.
I no longer believe that the value of my home is dependent on how much my house looks like a perfectly curated Pinterest board.
My home exists to serve my family, not the other way around.
One day there won’t be any more legos laying around. Homeschool books will disappear from the dining room table. And the constant sound of laughter and joy won’t echo around the house anymore.
But when that day comes, I won’t regret living life with my family and having proof of it, over the stress of always having a perfect home.
I’m grateful today, and I will always be, for every sign that points to life in here.
So if you ever do walk into my house, just know, you’ll probably find toys on the floor, books everywhere, and piles of laundry waiting to be folded.
But you’ll also find lots of laughter, learning, conversations, and people who truly love each other.
And I hope you leave with the knowledge that this is what makes a house a home.
Let’s chat!