If you’ve been to our house at any point in time wherein it was referred to as “our house”, then I’m going to apologize.
I’m sorry.
There.
Perhaps my other half would disagree, but I’ve felt something of a sense of awkwardness about the general state of the apartments we have called home within the last year plus. Somehow, we’ve never really fully moved in. In Orange, I suppose we were the closest to something called “moved in”, but not really – we still had an entire room that never really got unpacked or used. The problem may have been that we simply weren’t there long enough to establish a sense of home. Indeed, it’s taken us 9.5 months to fully arrange furniture and organize the filler. We could have gestated a baby in that amount of time (SO GLAD WE WERE NOT GESTATING A FETUS), but instead we now have a kitchen table.
Yeah, we’ve never had a kitchen table. We’re really not into the formal dining, so it admittedly hasn’t been at the top of our priority list. The space that some would refer to as the “dining area” in our apartment has mostly been the “storage area” for random things with no homes as well as the larger toys that Bryce hasn’t quite out grown. Oddly enough, child toys only seem to get bigger as they get older. And more in the way.
In celebration of Brian’s birthday, we were gifted an awesome pub-height dining table. Yes, I’m aware that most people probably wouldn’t place furniture on their birthday wish list, but we’re also talking about a family that contains a girl who once asked for and received rotors for Christmas (guilty). It may sound completely daft, but that silly (not silly) addition to our home ended up being the most monumental pieces of furniture perhaps ever. Really, that table kind of gave us something resembling “home”.
I’m trying not to harp on our house too much, as I am probably 60% responsible for its state of not-done, but up until last week our residence has resembled that of what I assume most college students’ resembles: unfinished, with a refrigerator that generally contains a liquid diet of beer, milk, juice, and various condiments on the side. Ok…so add to unfinished a vast array of children’s toys and a rack of drying bottles, and you probably could get the picture. Our Magic Table (known as MT from here on out) spurred a massive overhaul, cleaning, rearranging, and whateverelse-ing that has left us with the finished product of an AMAZING apartment.
Yes, It’s so good it even deserves all caps.
Oh! And add to that our other object of monumental significance:
Meow.
This is Leeloo. Leeloo is named for the 5th Element and we adopted her from the animal shelter last week, also. After getting through a rough first couple days, what with her battling an upper respiratory infection (sadly very common for shelter cats) and refusing to eat, we now have a rather wonderful addition to the family.
Yes, adding MT and Leeloo to the family has somehow changed quite a lot. Granted, MT was the start of an avalanche of overhaul, and Leeloo is a living creature and so likely shouldn’t be lumped in the same category as wooden object…but both have significance in and of themselves.
This could all sound so silly, and I’m so very aware of that. My struggle to feel like a moderately well-ish adjusted adult is pretty explicitly documented in these archives, so hopefully with that context this makes a bit more sense. Having a home that feels like home is something I haven’t really had in years, even after being married with a baby. Finally having that…it’s quite monumental. Corny, yeah. But awesome.
