Here, at last.

I moved all the furniture out of buttercream room.

I swept. Twice.

I mopped and smudged the dirt around. I mopped and smudged LESS dirt around.

I hauled in the table and put it together, found some chairs that I could reach, put groceries in the itty bitty portable storage unit and chilled 2 quarts of milk in a borrowed electric cooler.

The floor was as clean as I could get it, considering the windtunnel of construction dust we are in, our bed and a shared twin mattress were in designated locations-we were finally ready. It didn't feel real, though, until the beds were clothed in their cotton nightclothes-pillows thumped and plumped...then, ONLY then, did we KNOW we were FINALLY starting our lives one night at a time, in our new home. The first night-the starting gate of a brand new beginning. When the sheets were made, it was real.

When the strawberry cheesecake candle was lit atop two coffee filter "doilies" and some garden flowers plunked into an old mason jar centered the freshly polished table, THEN and only then, was it welcoming. Beautiful. Exciting. Then, it was home.

Corynn thrilled at being here. Excitedly she begged for more and more chores to help out. Wash the windowsills, gather garbage. Decide where you would like your bed. Wash the counters, table. Excitement made manifest.

Andrew was in his element, picking up the ample scrap sticks lying about and using them in ways only a boy could think up. At one point, he started shouting "Ders! Derrs!", pointing out the window. I didn't know what he was saying at first, but I entertained the notion of looking. I saw nothing for a long moment, though my boy jumped up and down in excitement. Only when he said "Derrs! Barn!" did I look over near the chicken house and see specks of deer through the lilac leaves. They moved and we watched, a mother and her young one. What an exciting thing for him to have noticed all on his own. He was very proud and beamed when I said "GOOD EYE, Panda!"

We all shared the excitement in waiting for Papa to return from work, and when he did, we all relished being with one another-eating together, alone, for the first time in a LONG time.

That night it stormed. Torrential rains beat upon the newly laid steel roof and I laid in bed, listening to the clanging protests, unaccustom to such noise. The naked windows had no curtains to block the flashes of white lightening just outside their panes and the freshly painted walls shook right down to the foundation as the thunder rippled across the sky. My thoughts rose as my unseeing eyes blinked in the night, thoughts to and for my boy-the boy who gets so frightened of storms, who reminds himself over and over "God made rain, God made rain" in effort to persuade himself calm. I thought how terribly scary it could be for this boy to wake in an unfamiliar home, surrounded by the deep squares of black made by box shadows and my fears for him kept me awake. Wondering when the cry would come.

I waited and waited...but one never rose. Eventually, out of disbelief, I scurried to their room only to find a contented, peaceful face on both my children. Being in their house calmed them as much as it did me.

I am a changed person. I love our home and find such joy in it, even amongst the scattered nails, boards, and smell of varnish. It doesn't matter that we are living a pioneer life, with everything in one room. It doesn't matter that my "kitchen workspace" is about the size of a small suitcase, or that hot water is a luxury that we have not yet been afforded. We haven't even noticed that we have no toys for the children to play with, or that showers must be borrowed for the time being. I am so thankful to be here. SO thankful indeed.

Corynn can almost always be found sitting, writing in her notebook. Somehow it is just more fun to do this on a bed that sits flat on the floor, or at a table that she had never sat at (a $12.00 find just before we moved...)

Andrew is always found with a stick. And with a dirty face and hands.

Matt works hard as ever during the day, but holds me just a bit closer each night as we lie in our own bed, in our own room. Together.

Life is oh so good.

Thanks to Matt's efforts this evening, I am able to finally share my thoughts AND photos-to record this changing time of our lives. Now, it is much easier to look forward to doing so.

Because...

we have made it.

We are Home.