What Makes A House A Home?

One of the first things we wanted to do when we moved here was buy a house. The Major was not fussy about the type of house etc, just that it had to have a pool. I, on the other hand, cared little about having a pool but greatly about buying a house that felt like a home.

Did we achieve this? Yes, we have a pool, yes we have a house, but do we have a home? What makes a house a home anyway? There were a lot of things about the house that we didn't like and knew would need immediate address. Such as a lounge room of exposed brick walls, blue carpet and ceilings and heavy navy floral curtains. We were in agreeance to that. But the rest of the house is relatively functional yet doesn't feel like a home. It feels like a place designed by someone else. The kitchen is dark timber with federation pink benchtops. I like white and light. The laundry has peach laminate doors, I like white and light. The staircase is stained timber, I'd like it to have white railings. Skirtings and window frames are timber, I like white. Main bedroom blinds were blue and gold check, I like neutral. The bathroom was mouldy and heritage burgundy and cream, I like clean, white and light. So, it just doesn't feel like my home. A home has to be a reflection of who you are.

But there's more to a home than that. Home is what is in it as well and what it provides.

Home is cozy

Home is a refuge
Home is a sanctuary

Home is a safe place
Home is filled with family

Home is filled with memories
Home is comfy

So, do we have a home yet? We've fixed the lounge room and that feels more like me. It is cozy, it is a refuge and it is filled with family. But there's still something missing. It's not filled with memories yet. The kitchen is still dark timber with pink bench tops, the laundry is still peach. But the mould is going and the bathroom is under going "refurbishment". Pictures are slowly being hung, memories are slowly being made, plans for a kitchen 'sometime' are being made.

It seems like making a house a home is an ongoing process.

On another note, I was reminded again this week why we moved 'home'. I became an aunt again for the 7th time.

And this time I didn't have to wait months to meet my new nephew. This time he was only hours old.

And he was perfect.