There is no place like home

I am really loving how actively being a nicer person is making me feel. How come I didn’t do this years ago? With each day the act of smiling when I feel like screaming, seems to be getting easier. It is making me incredibly happy to see the change in relationship dynamics when I go in smiling and singing. It truly is a product of  ‘you cannot change others you can only change you’. I am really starting to believe that I cannot change others in the relationships I cultivate, I can only change how I perceive and act.

Since the ‘be nice’ resolution (aka: stop nagging and losing my temper) is going a little smoother then I assumed (though don’t get me wrong there are still pot hole along the way πŸ™‚ I am going to blog about something that struck me this morning as I was having my morning coffee with Courtney.

I love my home.

My home makes me happy.

In my own personal happiness project, this is one thing I do not have to change or modify. My home is the one part of my life that I have always been true to. I have always kept it my (or now our) home, not pretended it or I was something else in it.

I am slightly jealous of homes that look so well put together (mine is not one of them). I have 3 amazing sister in law  who all seem to have an art of creating beauty in a home. Each with their own style and flair, create these homes and rooms that have such flow to them. I will admit, I am a small bit jealous when we visit their homes. They are just so well put together. But it works for them. Each of the homes speaks to their style and outlook on life. Their homes are perfect for the families they are building within those walls.

My own sisters have skills at creating wonderful rooms and homes. Meaghan is fantastic at decorating, especially seasonal decorating. She creates a space that is inviting and fun. I love that about Megs house. Amber creates simple, elegant beauty in her rooms, and Emily has a room that seem to be jammed pack full of memories and fun.

Each of these women knows how to be embrace there home (if it be a large house, a condo down town or a bedroom in their parents house) as a part of them and I hugely respect that about them.
I however, love my home but have no skills at decorating.

My home is a mish-mash of all things. New and Old, Vintage and Modern, Adult and Child. I love that about
my space. It is filled is with pictures of my kids and my family. Vintage poster prints from consignment stores. Old couches that have seen better days. Random hockey memorabilia. Hand-me down linens and homemade quilts. Nothing matches and I use alot bright of colours (I love yellow right now :),

but my home is me, it is my Family, it is us.

 A mish-mash of feelings, people and ideas. I really do love how sitting on my big red futon and drinking coffee and reading a book makes me feel. I love how lying on the floor and watching the girls crawl from room to room fills my soul with light. I love how the floors are crooked and the upstairs remind me of an old farm house. I love that the walls have fake wood tile and reminds me of the house I grew up in.  I love that even though we have only been here for less then a year this home has helped us make unforgettable memories. Nothing will match the feeling that in 50 years when we talk about our first home together as a family, this will be the home.

That being said, I love this home but on occasion miss my previous homes for all the feeling they created in me.
Like living in my mom and step dads home. I miss that alot. but who doesn’t miss the feeling of their parents home. I still have not found a place that relaxes me a much as the couch in my parents living room. I love how my moms house is full of ‘chitchy’ things that make it what it is, like the insane amount of Anne Geddes pictures or the egg cups. I love the inviting feeling yiou get when you walk int he door. I love that my step dad has found a new love for finding beautiful prints and furniture for their new room. I love the beauty of their backyard.
 I love my parents home. It makes me feel happy, but thankfully it is still apart of my life. I just don’t live there (though sometimes it feels I am there enough to live there)

Or like the first apartment with Courtney and I got together. How small it was, but I loved the feeling of my own space. My first ‘grown up’ place. it was cute and simple, but it was ours. We only lived there for 2 years and moved to a bigger apartment, which in is own extent I miss as well.
That seond apartment resignates feelings of a certain point in my life. I sometimes miss that part of my life, and the apartment reminds me of that. That apartment looked out to a wonderful bike path and had nature all around. We were up in trees and as each season changed the feeling in the apartment changed too. The balcony had this peaceful and zen feeling to it. I miss that place and the feelings it gave me.

This week I visited a great friend of mine, Lindsay, in her new apartment. Her excitement for this place was palpable. She had moved in some of her stuff that weekend and was starting to see her little space become hers. It is an amazing little space and as soon as you walk in you know it is hers. The feelings I felt vicariously through her transported me back to that feeling of excitement and pure pleasure of your first real place on your own. It is so fun to be able to create a space to become your home. The act of watching someone realize how happy their home makes them, is truly magical.

Finding your home and being true to yourself to create a space the cultivates your soul is an amazing thing. Whatever your thing is (vintage fabrics, modern designs, simple furniture) fill your space with it. That feeling of walking into your home with peace and love is irreplaceable.

Your home can bring you so much happiness!

“A house is made with walls and beams; a home is made with love and dreams.”

I hope you all have wonderful day!

much love,



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