Life and Stuff

It would seem from what I’ve read–everywhere from Facebook to the New York Times–that a lot of Americans can’t kick 2009 to the curb quickly enough. I think it goes without saying that 2009 gets the thumbs up here at Chez Lioness Den.

I mean, come on:

There’s a year-maker if ever there was one.

I was thinking about our lives these days, and turned my attention toward our home. As Lucy Bella crawled on the floor, once again aiming for the cat food (I’ll take that parent of the year award now, thanks); I felt very happy about our home. One of the greatest compliments that people can pay us is when they come over to watch the game, and then fall asleep on the couch or recliner. Or dig into our fridge. Or just comfortably be as the sun floods in for that 2:00 restful time.

No one will ever leave our home marveling at the spotlessness of the place. It ain’t. No one is going to describe it in big Archetectural Digest strokes of vaulted-ceiling wonder. There are enough artworks and photos on our walls to qualify as additional walls. Any interior decorator worth her salt would schedule us for an intervention immediately.

But as our friends meander over on quiet afternoons, or as Lucy Bella scoots herself into every imaginable corner; Lug and I have quietly promised ourselves that these doors are open to all who care to visit. If no one ever talks about the stuff in, or the condition of, our home; I think we’ll be okay with that. If they remember the moments spent here, if we can look into our living room and watch kids playing the Wii during sleepovers, if (yet more) rain and mud gets tracked in, if someone kicks over the cat food bowl (again), Lug and I will consider all of this a house well-lived. Like a heart, alive only when it’s full and moving.