My daughter’s language skills improve more and more each day. Lately she has been focused on classifications: boys/girls, old/new, the color (preferably pink!) and size (tiny babies, biiiiig ice creams) of things. One of the things she specifies is whose house she wants to be at — usually it’s Mimi’s house, but sometimes it is Anya’s house.
The way she says that, Anya’s house, resonates with me. However temporary I feel about the house we rent (I was hoping we’d have bought a house by now, but it looks like that goal is a few years off yet), it is the only home she has ever known. It’s her whole childhood. The center of her universe. I should do what I can to make it nice.
So that’s my new goal (in addition to adapting to life with two kids and finding my abs under all this postpregnancy sag): Making this house a home.