Signs of Life in Our Home


We have lived in our home for over a decade now. If you look closely, it isn’t hard to tell that we’ve been here a while. Little imperfections here and there. Like the rings on a tree trunk showing the years of life that have happened here. The little kid years with our son and daughter are flying by. So, instead of spending precious time fretting over these signs of life in our home, we have tried to accept and embrace them. They show that our family began here, lives here, and will continue to grow here.

The Signs of Life in Our Home

The left side of my daughter’s bed sags from hours of me laying with her as she falls asleep each night.

Our front door has fingerprints that seem to have melded into the paint from being closed hundreds of times by the littlest (and stickiest) of hands.

The floor at the bottom of our stairs is full of dog scratches from where our, now senior, dogs used to bound downstairs every morning. They still come downstairs, but more slowly. Only after an acceptable amount of stretches, yawns, and requests for belly rubs.

The right knee of all my pants is more worn than the left from kneeling to tie shoes or to comfort a kiddo with tears.

In the kitchen, the microwave door handle is beginning to loosen from the uncountable times I’ve made dino nuggets to fill hungry tummies.

Water drains a bit slowly from the bathroom sink after a science experiment with cornstarch went awry. Note: If you make “oobleck” together, do not let it go down the drain!

Our wooden kitchen table is graced by drumming-induced marks of a budding percussionist.

The front hallway wall is missing a chunk of paint from scotch tape that held up a beloved art project for many months. Note to self: Put painter’s tape on the shopping list.

Last but not least, a wall in the finished basement features a small dog bone imprint from a game of fetch that got a little out of hand.

Embracing the Signs

Are there times when I wish I could touch up every little mark on our walls? Of course. Are there times that I think about refinishing our hardwood floors to their original glory? Yes, and so many other things. But I look around our house and find myself filled with such gratitude that we get to call it our home. I am grateful that every corner of the house shows that we don’t just exist here, but we live here.


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