A Place We Call HOME

This morning I’m home alone. Hubby is going to work, the kids to school and the maid to market. Usually there is another maid doing the house cleaning up, however she is not feeling well and going to the doctor today. So I’m all alone.

As an EX-perfectionist, I couldn’t stand looking at the messy house. Instantly I find myself busy doing the clean up like making the beds, sweeping the floor, cleaning up the toys, putting everything to where they belong.

I keep Mika’s track set, he just built last night, on the living room floor though. Just like I keep Alisha’s play dough, we just made yesterday afternoon, in her play kitchen. The kids will be happy to find their favorites where they are when they come home.

Being alone allows me to have quiet time to appreciate the things around me, like our home. Replaying the pictures in my mind about our daily life at home, the kids are playing, screaming, laughing, fighting, crying, the hubby is busy getting ready to work, exercising, asking my help to find his stuffs, etc… etc… somehow I feel what a wonderful life we are living right now. Every member of the family is happy just becoming their true self. They know what to expect when they are at home. The kids know where to find their toys, when to go to bed, what their parents will react to their needs. The hubby knows he can rely on me to assist him with his inquires, he can be sure the kids are well taken care of. I know the kids and hubby’s day to day activities and their related needs. We all know what to expect and we all know we will be safe, secured and loved at home.

So, looking at Alisha’s free hand writings on the wall I come to a conclusion that a house doesn’t have to be big and beautiful with luxurious furniture to be called home. It just needs to make the people living in there to feel safe, secured and happy to be their true self. A home is not about the material things inside. It is about the love between the people who live in there.

I’m glad that we have a place we call HOME.