We arrived at our new DC area home on Friday afternoon and have been living here with a few sets of clothes, a pack n play for Dylan, and a blow up mattress for us. That’s really about it besides food and bowls for the dog and cat.
Yesterday, Andy left for training and I drove about 2.5 hours up to my in-laws to surprise my mother-in-law for a big birthday (and her reaction made it totally worth it!).
I love my in-laws and it was a GREAT day, but I had to leave after only a few hours to come back for many reasons but most importantly, I had to get back for the pets and I want Dylan and the pets (which is why I didn’t just bring them along in the first place) to get used to their new home.
This brings me to my point: what makes a house a home?
When I got back yesterday, I realized that our new place already feels like home. I walked in the door and breathed it in and was happy to be back. I didn’t expect this place to feel like our home until the furniture got here, but even empty there’s something about it that makes it our home.
I don’t know if it’s because it’s starting to smell like us, or if it’s just my mindset, or if I’m just weird 🙂 but whatever the reason, I feel blessed to have a home and I now really know what a home is not. It is not just a collection of material belongings. And I think the quote, “home is where the heart is” says it pretty well.