Better Homes

I’ve never had a Better Homes & Gardens home – except in my dreams, of course. Although I’ve always wanted my walls to sport stylish wall groupings and have pristine suede furniture, I’ve had to face the reality that it wouldn’t last long with all of the sports in the house and wrestling over the furniture.

Instead, my children have fond memories of a swing in the middle of the living room, a child’s plastic slide/gym touching the ceiling in our play room, hammocks in their bedrooms, and walls and walls of books stacked every which way as long as they fit. Just keeping everything somewhat picked up, semi-organized and clean was all I could do.

As they got older and I no longer had a daycare in my home, my husband and I talked about upgrading from yard-sale finds to almost-new stuff. But that idea went out of the window as our children were constantly bringing home live-in friends or stray dogs and cats. (Sigh!) Then our living room started masquerading as a classroom and our dining room became our science lab slash craft room.

Every once in a while, I’d get the urge to redecorate or do a makeover. Then for the next several weeks I’d be totally preoccupied with paint, molding, “accents”, etc. Additionally, to go with the new look, I’d have to clean, vacuum, dust, rearrange, and you-name-it for the next several weeks after that. It was during one of these times that I had a revelation…not, unfortunately, due to my own soul-searching.

This time my oldest daughter was sitting across from me in my bedroom with tears running down her cheeks. “Mom! You’re hardly ever home! And when you are home, you’re not really HERE! I feel like you’re leaving everything to me.” My first thought was that I was usually home and what did she mean ‘you’re not here’? As she explained, it dawned on me that being with my kids meant being with my kids. You know, focusing on them, listening to them, responding to them. What had happened was that I was putting how my home looked above the needs of my daughters. As a result, my oldest was feeling abandoned. Talk about taking the wind out of my sails. That was the end of my focused redecorating.

Now, when I get the urge to do a home makeover, I have to ask myself, “What is really going to matter in 10 years?” The wall groupings? The matching furniture? The laundry and ironing I got done? No. In 10 years, it will matter that I listened to my kids, came along side them in their challenges, and encouraged them in their goals. In 10 years, I may not even remember what color my kitchen curtains happened to be.