This Thanksgiving your family will thank you for making the holiday even more fun with the new Pillsbury® Ready to Bake! Thanksgiving Shape® sugar cookies! The fabulous folks at MyBlogSpark did it again. They...
What Home Means to Me
For a long time, when I thought of home, I meant the actual house. Of course, this was in my twenties.
Home was the place I went to after a night of partying to get some rest and do it all over again the next night. Yeah, I had some fun in my twenties.
Home was also very often the place where I ran in to change clothes before going somewhere else to meet up with friends. Home housed my “stuff.”
Today, home is something different to me. Home has a whole new meaning to me as a wife and mother.
My home is where my children and husband are. My home is a safe haven where my children can play, any of my friends and family can come into and where I feel most comfortable.
My home is no longer a house. My home is a state of mind. A state of mind where there is peace except when the kids are fighting, tranquility (after the kids go to bed when my husband and I relax out on our back deck) and very often chaoas (the kind where the kids and dog are running through the house at ‘full steam ahead').
My home is a wonderful place to be. You should stop by someday, if you get the chance but not in a crazy, stalkerish, looking in my window sort of way.