Home Is… (FMF)

Home is… the rocking chair at 2am when the baby snuggles, sad sick, in the hollow of my shoulder, tears still shining on his cheek and the praying again for grace and strength to compassionately get through the night.

Home is… the slow-breathing quiet of a peaceful night, kissing a fat baby hand once more and pulling up the blankets and moving closer to and smiling with the husband at the dancing, thumping antics of the little girl in me before finally sleeping.

Home is… dreams and plans bigger than our present pocketbook, but dreaming and planning anyway because little by little we’ll make it happen.

Home is… the sparkle on the baby’s face as he stuffs something in his mouth off the floor and waits to see what I’ll do.

Sometimes mirror self-portraits are necessary.

Sometimes mirror self-portraits are necessary.

Home is… not the perfect Pinterest or magazine house, but the small shoes and clothes and toys scattered on the floor and the stroller parked in the entryway and a stack of projects waiting for completion and the pile of clean but not folded laundry and the sneaking suspicion that there is a load two days forgotten in the washing machine and the daily reminding to myself that no, these aren’t the most important things right now but I could probably do a little more.

Home is… the eyes of my husband as he quietly pulls my aching tiredness, near-defeated by the day and the chores and the things I’m not, into a solid warm hug.

Home is… digging up dandelions knowing full well that it’s a nearly hopeless fight and still smiling at the thought of a couple years from now when two pairs of grubby little hands seek them out thinking they’re the best flowers ever.

Home is… a shelf full of recipes to try and also a fervent thankfulness that the husband doesn’t object to leftovers.

Home is… those shining moments where even the messes and the blurry pictures glow in the perfection of the smiles and happiness and fun being had and the only home I want is the one that I have.

Home is where they are…

The light was rubbish, but the smiles are still there.


This post was inspired by Lisa-Jo Baker’s Five Minute Friday word. ¬†I was typing one handed, so it took me way more than five minutes, but that’s still where the idea came from.


8 thoughts on “Home Is… (FMF)

  1. Home will be the place you learn what it feels like to step on a lego….Home will be the place were you hunt for that first lost tooth….Home is where baby cries and 16 years later Mom cries when she looks at that size 13 foot and think where have the years gone.
    Blessing my sister in the joy of Home.
    Smiles and Tears of Joy, Deena

  2. Oma says:

    Oh yes, Amanda! Thanks for being a beautiful Homegirl and appreciating the blessings that surround you and generate from you! I love you!

  3. That was really really really beautifully written. I couldn’t help but smile while I was reading it. Thank you so much for sharing. I can totally relate.

  4. Loved this! Remembering those dandelion days fondly as I think of the scratch my now 13-year-old took to try and reach some honeysuckle for his flower-loving mama . . . just yesterday! Precious moments captured from the overflow of our hearts.

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