The house I live in with my sweet little family?
Well, sometimes sweet.
It’s a great house.
And I am so proud of our home.
We have worked really hard over the past seven and half years to keep up with repairs, make upgrades where we can afford them and add touches here and there.
But if you compared my home to those of the bloggers who fall into my “category”, my home is nowhere near the same level.
When I started this blog two and half years ago, I set out to be a decorating/organizing/craft blog.
Because that’s what I love to do.
But when you blog, you get lumped in with other bloggers who are in your same genre.
Maybe it’s because you attend their link parties.
Maybe it’s because you read their blogs and have something in common with them.
But you do get clumped.
Now don’t get me wrong, I like being lumped with them.
Well, some of them.
But it wasn’t until I went on Twitter that my heart started to change.
Because my closest blogging friends or the ones I seem to gravitate to aren’t in the DIY realm.
Because the blog friends who have surrounded me and taken me in like a lost family member have nothing remotely to do with decorating my home.
Because the blog friends who I could ask for help and come to my rescue?
Aren’t blogging about a brand new kitchen.
I never found that with the DIY bloggers I followed, commented on, and replied to.
Of the bloggers who I met in Chicago at the blogging event, most if not all that I connected with, had nothing to do with painting a wall, installing a floor, or repairing a wingback chair.
With one exception, Linda at It All Started With Paint.
She was amazing.
So I am so glad I met these amazing people because I was starting to doubt my genre a little.
I want to be the DIY blogger that answers questions if you leave them.
Who gives back to the underdog.
I want to be the DIY blogger who is real.
Not for show.
Not professional pictures that make my house look like an interior designer created it.
Like YOU could create it.
Because I am you.So in remaining real, I should tell you, my home has faults.
Lots of them.
But there are some, that even though they should be repaired, I just don’t wanna.
Like the stain on the ceiling in the family room from all the water that has run over the tub in the kids’ bathroom through the years.
The stain reminds me that they are still messy.
And still splash around in the bath or shower.
And are still little.
Yes, I know.
This will get repaired.
Or the table edge that is rubbed off due to the hours and hours of homework done here by my 7th grader.
Or the chalkboard pantry wall that is gouged from when my five-year-old tried to write on here with her own chalk a little too hard.
Or the scuffed door frame (I have many in the house that look like this) due to all the years of kids running up and down these basement stairs to play and holding on to this door frame.
Sadly, my oldest rarely run down to play there anymore so I don’t wanna remove these scuffs.
Or the sad couch cushions in our family room.
I scrub these weekly to no avail.
But there has been a lot of movie watching, popcorn eating and snuggling done on this old thing.
I almost don’t want the stains to come out.
Or the 15-year-old coffee table that has been well-loved and well used.
Lots of drawing, coloring, cutting, and pasting is done on this table.
As well as a few tea parties.
And this is one wall that will never get painted or cleaned:
We have measured both girls on this wall.
Annie since she was 5 (when we moved in) and Ellie since she was old enough to stand up.
I love this wall so much it hurts.
It will really hurt when we move and have to leave this wall someday.
You just can’t get memories like this back.
So there is a partial tour of my imperfect home.
There are lots more imperfections.
But we wouldn’t have it any other way.