Dear reader, I think I've made mention already, but we are moving soon. The most commonly asked question by friends and acquaintances upon hearing this news is: are you excited?!
And something about the way they ask seems to presuppose not only the answer, but my delivery of it as well. You know? Something about the way they ask makes me feel as if I should see their enthusiasm and raise it by about a zillion exclamation marks.
And I panic, because I know if I can't muster the appropriate wattage they'll walk off thinking: no wonder she didn't get asked to prom!
It's just that I'm a serious sort of girl, dear reader. Of course I have emotions, but I don't always exhibit them in a typical way. The word excited tends to throw me a bit. Tiny turtles make me excited. Mortgages? Not so much. Plus, I often feel a certain pang. I hope this doesn't come off sounding like a trite attempt to answer the social awareness question in a beauty pageant, but I guess I just wish everyone was moving. I wish everyone was getting a new house.
That would be exciting.
I've been thinking a lot about how I want people to feel in our home. I want them to feel cozy and welcome. I want them to want to be there.
I want them to feel a bit of wonder, a bit of magic.
When I think about the homes of my childhood, not just my own but the ones I liked to visit, I think about the chaos and clutter of the Burnham's house. I loved being there. Walking through that door was like getting swept up in a wave of crazy family warmth. I loved my piano teacher's house. It was more stately and elegant, but also cozy and inviting. Plus it had two massive boxers loping around, trying to sniff me in all my private places.
I think the commonality behind these and other good memories is that I liked being in homes where I felt safe and loved.
Sometimes I worry we are too much a family on the go. I like what we're doing, I enjoy these activities, but I also see it can run interference with my ideal of having people drop by and me opening the door with flour on my hands, saying: Come in! You're just in time for a cup of tea and fresh cookies from the oven!
No kidding--Sophie's bringing a friend home today after school and I plan to do that very thing.
I will also ignore the look of wonder on my daughter's face, as it's been awhile since fresh cookies came from the oven.
At any rate, when I think about our new home, it's not especially a sense of excitement that registers first. It's more thoughts like these.
I want people to feel at home in our home. I hope they feel good about themselves there.
I hope they feel safe and loved.
