When I was a child, Home meant lazy Sundays, my cat, my mom reading a book and my brother and I playing board games. As a child, Home gave me a sense of security and comfort.
When I moved out of my mother’s home, I felt ungrounded, unsure if I would ever find a Home of my own.
As an adult with children of my own, Home means lazy Sundays, my cat and dog, my son reading a book and my kids playing in the pool. As an adult, Home gives me a sense of hope and nostalgia.
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OMG I love this! How freaking cute are your kids?
It’s up to us, and so often comes down to a mother’s direction. Good job, Mama.
Agreed with Kim! We make home, home. I didn’t think about this before, but my oldest may be going through that same feeling now — defining home for himself. Thank you Desire for this reminder!
Desiree!! 🙁 I can’t edit from here.
it’s ok. I know I’m your “desire” buahahahah 😉
I think we all re-create the good memories from our own childhood. We want to have traditions that our kids will remember and perhaps share with their own children. The sharing of experiences is most cherished.
That’s what it’s ALL about – family memories & traditions AND the creation of your own !