...What Makes a House a Home, Coming Home and Vanquishing Evil …not to be confused with “Vanquishing Evil Upon Coming Home.”

I have a love/hate relationship with my house. I LOVE where we live . I LOVE the fact that I have a relatively low house payment. I LOVE the low ceilings, the low utilities, the paneled walls…actually, sometimes I hate that part, and I love the layout that allows me to know who is home and where they are at all times. I love the giant tub in my bathroom. I love the built on addition that gives me a family room, food storage and that gives me a place to throw all of Odean’s stuff that he leaves lying around. I love that the water heater and stove are run on propane instead of electricity-when the power goes out I can still cook and have a hot bath…even if it is off for days. I love that my house is lived in, child friendly, and comfortable. It isn’t the nicest or the newest with all the stainless steel, granite, rock and wood of the newer houses. While I was at Kelli’s we got in a debate over who’s house had more of a “White Trash” look. This conversation wasn’t a “feel sorry for me” pitty party, not in the least. It was a laughing realization of how much we are alike in ideals and priorities. We both have older homes that need attention. We both have large families and the expenses that come with them. It seems for both of us that whenever we have the money saved to fix or replace the cupboards, floors, carpet, etc…either a car or major appliance dies and needs to be replaced. Windows get fixed only to break again within weeks or sometimes even within days. While both of us dream of owning furniture that hasn’t belonged to someone else first, we are very grateful for the well loved pieces from friends and family. Every thing we own has a story with how it ended up in here. And Kelli, while I will concede that your kitchen wins the “Hammered” award with the missing cupboard doors and the loose railing (even though you must admit the holey carpet over the linoleum and mustard stove missing the oven knobs has a nice touch,) I do win the “Trailer Trash” award with my overall outside view. I do admit I wouldn’t mind a new house with new appliances someday, I wouldn’t trade the memory of Talon falling through the floor while on the toilet for anything!
I am finding that going away from home without my kids is even harder now that they are teenagers than it was when Walker was 1 and I was going to work at the trade shows for the first time. Back then it was hard to get ready-I needed to arrange for someone to watch the little ones during the day until their Dad got home. I had to have meals planned and prepared for the week I was going to be gone. Not only did I have to pack for myself, but I needed to have everyone else’s laundry done, bags packed for each person’s house each individual child might be going to. The house was usually trashed when I got home. Odean’s philosophy was always, “If they are alive when you get home, I’ve done my job.” It got easier over the years as the kids got older. They were able to do their own laundry, prepare their own meals; I just had to make sure there was laundry detergent and options for dinner. I would get home and things would be relatively picked up. It would almost seem like just another day. Now I have 4 teenagers. There are schedules to be juggled; homework to follow up with and make sure it gets completed. Instead of just having to remind Odean that there are kids at home-now’s not the time to be working late if you can help it-I have 4 others that are so self absorbed that they forget Jens & Walker still need supervision and help. I’m not saying that my kids are totally selfish but the true nature of almost any teenager is that the world pretty much revolves around themselves. I have spent the first two days home with my teenagers lined up and bursting at the seams, waiting for their turn to erupt with all the emotional baggage they have had pent up waiting for my return. I have spent the next two days recovering from it. And while it is every bit as exhausting as was the late nights up with a baby, the countless diaper changes, the many miles spent pacing with sleepless babies, I wouldn’t go back to the other for anything in the world. I LOVE having teenagers. I love seeing how far they have come. I love getting a little glimpse of what they will be like as adults. I don’t always love what I see, but I love them tremendously.

And finally, just when you were thinking this was never going to end, I close with photos of our own Superheros as they spend a day vanquishing evil rather than cleaning their rooms like they were supposed to. (And I quote, “But Mom! There was evil to be vanquished! My room could wait just a little longer!”)