Friday, August 31, 2012

Fabulous Friday: On Being Home

This week went by simultaneously insanely slow (like a snail with a broken leg) and insanely fast (hooray!).

Let's recap the week. I noticed that I truly am growing up. (Say what?) And I appreciated new good things in my life and the beautiful sunny San Francisco fall (summer). And, in case you were nervous, the watch has really grown on me, and I am starting to love it. So, you can stop your fretting. All is well with the world, and I am happily over my guilt and on to lusting for new things. Whew. For a moment there I wondered if I was going to need a lobotomy.

But, staying with the theme of growing up, beyond my more conservative approach to money and my newly developed desire to make more practical and wiser decisions, I have also come to appreciate having my own space. While I would consider myself to be an introvert by nature and someone who has always liked "alone time," I do really like to be around family. A lot. Like really. A lot. I remember being in the car with some friends a few years ago, and they were saying that they had finally gotten to the age when they realized that their parents' homes were no longer their homes, that the homes they had established for themselves had become home, and the places they grew up that once felt essential were now places where they felt, ostensibly, like guests. I listened to the conversation without interjecting because I completely and blatantly disagreed. My parents home still felt very much like my home, and I believed it always would, which it did for quite a while.

When I moved out here, though, I really did start to feel like I had a space of my own. While J. sometimes gets annoyed at my nesting tendencies, I have made a home that really feels homey. Aside from my damn annoying rug (which has been behaving better as of late), I feel snuggly and peaceful and happy inside my home, and, though I hesitate to even admit this, my parents house no longer feels  as much "mine" as it once did. (Don't worry, Mom. I still love you just as much.)

The last two weeks have been an insane whirlwind of having family with us and starting a new job, and it made me realize how very much my home has become my own. We have figured out our own way of doing things. We have gotten into routines, and we have habits that make us comfortable as a couple. And that is so fabulous. It is so grown up. I just love and adore it. But, more than the home I've created, I love the person I'm sharing it with. (Even though he isn't as neat as he might be. And even though sometimes he spends the whole night sleeping on the living room floor because he just fell asleep there and decided not to get up. And even though he sometimes leaves the dishes on the counter longer than I'd like.) The place we've made together wouldn't be a home without him. This Friday, I am thinking about the fabulousness of being with the person I love in the place I've grown to love. No one else. Just us.

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