We interrupt this regularly scheduled update for a quick patio progress report: the expensive patio supplies mentioned earlier have arrived. Now we understand why they cost so much. The shipment was larger than our car, a giant truck delivered it, the total weight on the delivery ticket reads over 19,000 pounds, and the materials have completely taken over the carport. John is out there working today — there’s one week to go until Clara’s big party — so here’s a quick sneak peek at the current patio craziness. More details to come.
So back to the whole question of “Home Sweet Home?”
Those first few weeks living in our new house didn’t immediately feel like ours. It didn’t quite feel like the previous owners’ place either. It was just in-between — call it House Limbo.
Even after every box was unpacked, Clara’s crib was set up, and we’d slept in our new bedroom for about thirty nights in a row, it still felt like we were living here but not exactly at home. Then we painted the master bedroom — the first room besides Clara’s that we tackled — and something shifted. Suddenly it felt more like ours.
Maybe it just took a few bigger changes, like altering wall color, for the reality to sink in: this is really our house and we can make it the way we want.
I remember that feeling from our first house — the surprising freedom of no landlord telling us we couldn’t paint or hang curtain rods. It took time to fully accept home ownership. It was odd to feel those same small surprises again with our second house. We weren’t expecting anyone to forbid us from changing fixtures or opening up walls, but we did feel like we were still “playing house,” courting the place rather than being fully committed. After painting the bedroom, though, we lay in bed and talked for hours about how it finally felt like ours.
That shift — when a house starts to feel like a home — seems to happen slowly, in stages. We recently reached another deeper level of that feeling when we added a personalized frame gallery in the hallway and set up a proper, working dresser along with an organized closet.
Those touches — the sentimental photos on the wall and finally having a drawer for socks and underwear after months of clothes piles on the closet floor — made a big difference.
It sounds trivial, but those changes were game changers. We couldn’t believe we waited so long to add personal touches — the hallway gallery took months from start to finish — and finally organizing our clothes felt like reclaiming how we like to live. Instead of feeling like we were on a vacation with bare walls and temporary piles, the house began to reflect us again.
And the homey feeling intensifies when people come over. Guests make a space feel alive and cozy, even if we just order pizza and lounge in the living room.
…or when we relax together in the living room.
We’re expecting yet another level of “this is our house” once the patio is finished. Creating an outdoor area that no one before us has used feels especially special and distinctly ours. Here’s a current shot of John’s progress out there:
Did it take you a while to feel at home in a new place, or did you feel instantly settled? For us it wasn’t that the house didn’t feel amazing — we admired it every night during that first month and still do often — but certain things needed to happen to make it truly feel like ours. For some people it’s cooking their first big meal in the kitchen, for others it’s painting or adding personal decor. It’s interesting how ordinary or major actions can change how you feel about your four walls.
Psst — we announced this week’s giveaway winners. Check to see if it’s you.
Psssttt — have you heard the story about Mariah Carey naming her son Moroccan after an interior-decorating inspiration? Any thoughts on that? Also, should we name our next baby Quatrefoil after our favorite mirror shape? Quatrefoil Petersik does have a nice ring to it…