An Ode to an Imperfect House

This week, fancy pictures, slide shows and virtual tours set to music made their way on this Internet in an effort to sell our home.

Our Realtor came and looked around, decided the ‘market value’ and all the things he could write about on MLS.  Then he sent a photographer to come and take pictures.  And voila, just like that, our home is out there, showcasing it’s best features for the world to see and (hopefully) someone to want.  Quickly.  Anytime now.  That would be great.

But the ‘features’ of our home could be up for debate.  While I won’t argue that new paint and wainscoting and laminate floors are all well and good, none of my favorite things about my house are listed.

9 years ago right before DH left for his first tour in Afghanistan, we found out we were expecting.  We lived in this tiny little PMQ at the time and it just wasn’t going to cut it with a baby.  Base housing was phasing out to a civilian company so an upgrade was not in our future, we started looking to buy a house.

We had virtually no money and it seemed a loss cause as we looked at places in the city.  Then another soldier DH worked with let him know they were selling their place.  We could afford this place, it was a starter sized home out of the city in a little town.  The best part was they wanted to move out when they returned from tour, which was when we wanted to move in.  Perfect!

We never even had a Realtor or looked at another place.  We walked through their house, shook hands, signed some papers and at 20 years old we were all of a sudden not only soon to be parents but also soon to be homeowners!

7 weeks after DH’s got home from Afghanistan, 6 weeks after our first was born, we moved our little belongings into our new digs.  After living in the teeny Q, it seemed huge!  For 6 months, we called the front room the ‘meditation room’ because we didn’t have any furniture to put in it.  With 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms and 4 levels, it was almost palatial.

Since then, it has certainly seemed to shrink as more children have been added.  We are maxed out bedroom wise, with our boys sharing a room and Drama sleeping in the little office sized bedroom that only recently (when we posted to sell) got an actual door that wasn’t a window.  All the little annoyances about the house pick at me, like they do to anyone who lives anywhere for a while.

We have lived in this home longer than any military family should live anywhere.  by the time we leave it will have been almost 10 years.  And those fancy perfect pictures on MLS are not what I will remember about this place.

I will remember the Nursery. 

All 3 of my kids started out there once they left our room.  I will remember running in when Drama’s apnea monitor would go off, usually because she rolled off it.  I will remember staring with my head against the glass door watching Freckles like only a new first time mom does, half asleep and exhausted but wondering why the baby hasn’t woken up yet.

I will remember how we decorated the room so perfectly for Drama because, well, when your kid’s name is an actual plant, theme decorating is super easy.

And then I will remember how I was so exhausted when we learned Monster was coming, we never changed it.  And he had the most beautiful, flowery nursery until he was old enough to move in with his brother.

It’s been a Veggie Tale themed nursery and toddler room for Freckles, a sweet and flowery baby girl room for Drama, back to Monster’s nursery before it is now her room again.  With the perfect princess chandelier.

I will remember the ‘guest room’. 

It didn’t last as a guest room long, once Drama came along and Freckles moved in.  When we installed this special light switch so our vertically challenged Freckles could turn on his own light.  And how crazy he drove us when he would turn it off and on when he was supposed to be going to sleep.

And then I will remember how it became both a little boys and a little girl’s room after Monster was born and Drama moved in with Freckles.  And poor Freckles had to have Drama come learn to sleep in a big-kid bed in the bunk under him, only to a year and a half later do the same thing with Monster.

I will remember the master bedroom. 

All the different ways I would shift it around and change the layout and try to make it feel just a little bit bigger.  The fancy sleigh bed we had for a couple years before we realized that having it up against the window just meant the kids would jump from the window ledge onto the bed until the frame was broken in half (I swear, that’s what happened and I’m sticking to it!).

And this spot at the table, with my newspaper on my Kindle while I take a moment to eat my oatmeal and get my brain to a functioning level before I send the kids off to school.  I always have an abundance of apples.

I’ll remember this window in my front room. 

It’s where I sit to wait for Monster’s bus after school.  On bad nights when DH was gone it’s where I would be, petrified I would see a car full of soldiers pull around the corner. 

I`ll remember the basement

This view down the stairs to the rec room.  I’ll remember how when we first moved in we decided to finish the basement and paint it fire engine red.  With cheap paint that looked so bad after 4 coats I eventually just sponged it on in the hopes I could just give in and make it look like it was supposed to be blotchy.  It didn’t work.  A couple years ago we finally painted over it, last year we added the wainscoting and we got that part finished just last month.  10 years it took us to make the basement look the way we wanted it to in the first place.

 

And finally, well, this is where I sit now.  Where I think, where I hope to come up with some answer to an email, courage to make a phone call or or the ending to a blog post.  With a basket full of white fluffy blankets (I have no idea why but I just can’t get enough of those), the chair rail we just finished painting even though it got put up years ago and my feet up on the table in my fuzzy socks.

A home is not made up of the place you see listed on the Internet when it’s for sale.  

I almost wish I could sit down with the people who own whatever house we will choose to buy, and ask her where her favorite places to be were.

We all have things we would change about our houses, we live there and we know all it’s flaws.  But there’s a beauty in a building that has seen this family grow up for 10 years that can’t be put in some full-colour showing brochure.

The army tells us where to live, but we choose to make each place our home.  And it`s beauty is found in all those ways it`s become our sanctuary.

I hope the next family finds that same beauty here, too.

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