I was tagged by the lovely Debbie at Random Musings to describe what home means to me. I am usually quite horrible at responding to being tagged but this one peaked my interest.
When I was younger, teenage years, I didn’t like home. This was due to the asshole step-father who resided there and made everyday a wonder of what was going to set him off. All I wanted was to go t0 my friends’ houses, my friends who had normal parents and where no one was walking on egg shells. But for some reason my mother insisted that I needed to be “home“. I’m sure it’s because my step-father wanted no part of me to experience happiness.
When I left there and moved to Las Vegas, NV…I moved in with my dad while I attended school. And as much as my dad went out of his way to let me decorate and redecorate and paint and repaint that house, it was still his house. I have to give the man kudos, he let me put teal carpet in my room and the living room and even teal and white linoleum throughout the kitchen, dining room, and hallway. Yes the 90’s were all about teal and mauve…blech!
The next place I lived was a condo in which my then husband and I shared with a roommate. A roommate who’s boyfriend eventually resided there as well…rent free and enjoyed lounging around in his underwear and never cleaning up after himself. He also loved leaving the condo with every light on, the washer and dryer running constantly, and one time I came home to find he had left the gas stove on.
Let’s fast forward to the present because if I were to go through every place I’ve lived or called home this post could become long, drawn out, and boring.
Home for me now is where the family, in which I have created with my husband, all live together. It’s not the sticks or stucco that create the walls but the screaming laughter that rings throughout them. It’s not the tile or wood that make up the floors but the tiny footsteps I hear throughout the day and sometimes late at night, slamming running across them.
Oh let’s cut the crap!
It’s the kitchen in which I slave away trying to cook good meals for my family to eat, only to hear my husband give me an opinion which I didn’t ask for. **puts tongue in cheek**
It’s the piles of laundry, toys strung from one end of the house to the other, dust that always seems to land on a constantly moving fan, blankets never on the beds in which they belong, dog hair…dog fucking hair EVERYWHERE!
The syrup and jam lurking in crevices of the kitchen that I inevitably stick my hand or more likely step my foot in. It’s the never ending bundles of socks stuck in the cushions of the couch and shoved under beds and in drawers where clean clothes lie. Like seriously could someone please explain to me how it takes less effort to shove a sock in a drawer than to just PUT IT IN THE HAMPER?!?!
It’s the collection of empty soda cans that my husband likes to accumulate on his nightstand and the toothpaste splattered across his entire mirror like he was trying to practice splatter painting while brushing his teeth.
It’s the bedroom in which my 15 year old son resides in…one must never go in there….EVER.
Even as I sit here writing this post and my eyes somehow wander over to our poor, pathetic, dry, dead tree that if so much as a spark from a candle landed on…it would light up like the Griswald family Christmas tree. The kids have rearranged every ornament and I’m quite certain the tree had been pissed on in the wild…no fab pine smell this year. But it’s our tree, in our home, and it only has a few more days to go.
My home is where my family is busy making messes and memories. Where in the midst of all the chaos I am reminded that all the noisy insanity is better than being alone and going insane from the loneliness of silence. **imagines herself in a nice hot bubble bath, glass of wine in hand, silence**. “MOMMY?!?!”
Back to reality…the reality that this is my home and it’s the best place where I can be myself, lounge around in sweat pants with holes, have messy hair, cry, laugh, fart, be an absolute bitch, and my family will still love me.
I won’t tag anyone for this post but if it peaks your interest enough to write about it please leave me a link in my comments.
I am linking this post with the following fabulous linkys…