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Home Sweet Home

So anyway, some folks have asked to see the inside of my house.

Actually that’s not true. No one has asked me that at all.

It’s just that my weekend photo snapping kind of possessed me, and I have about twenty million pictures of different rooms in my house.

Plus, I personally love peeping through people’s houses and looking at all the tiny details which turn their places homely. For the record, this is my official snoop disclaimer, so if you’re not into that kind of thing, I’ll see you back here in a couple of days.

 

For the rest of you, follow me.

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This is the room that greets us when we arrive home. My treatment room.

 

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This room is where I write my blogs. It’s where I hug my clients. It’s where I go when I’m not being a mum. It’s also where my cat sleeps, cat is never allowed to sleep because I work from here, you guys. This room is professional.

 

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This is our shrine room.

 

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Photos have a life of their own in this room and they fling themselves onto walls when we are least expecting it. Every week, Joel comes home to find more photos hung about and I can tell you I am just as shocked. This place tells so many of our stories, and it’s one of my favourite rooms of the house. From the table Joel made when we first moved in and which I walked around and around and around again when I was in labour, to the photo tree hung with pictures by the amazing Kate Veronica Photography, just walking in there makes me go Ahhhhhhhh. Home.

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And now we enter couch territory.


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We are a little…..thrifty…Joel and I. We (I) love old antique finds and mismatched vintage treasures, and hunting down bargains is something I pride myself in. I love looking at a piece of furniture and remembering the adventure we went on getting it, or who was about to throw it out before we stepped in and rescued it. I love pre-loved stuff. It just feels…richer or something. This room is full of treasures like that, and even more full is the memories this room holds. I’ve spent many a day lying on that red couch, heavily pregnant and unable to move. I’ve held newborn babies and sipped cups of teas and opened presents and hugged crying friends and read favourite books on that couch. The day after Ella was born, we had our entire little village squished together upon that couch, friends and family taking turns to hold and cry and gasp while I sat there silently, tears in my eyes, taking it all in. I know I will keep that couch until it literally dissolves. I love it too much.

 

A close second favourite item of this room is this:

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A $40 score on one of my thrift shop rummaging mornings, carried up our fifteen front stairs, in the rain, by moi. Joel was a little wary of it at first, something about “floral” something or other, but now he loves it. He sits in it more than me.

 

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This is where we spend most mornings, Joel, Ella and I.

 

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When are woken at 5 by Ella’s cries, the golden light of early morning sunshine streams in here and it’s kind of magical. We sip coffee and build blocks and read stories and bang on xylophones here before the rest of the world is up and I dream up all the things we are going to do in our spare moments of the day. My mama friends gather in this room when they bundle their babies over to hang out, and as Ella grows, this room will only grow more full of stuff and moments.

 

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This is my baby’s room.

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That chair is on loan from my friend Tanya. So many nights have been spent in it, rocking my girl to sleep and myself to some form of sanity. Those early days are like a dream to me now. The waking every 3 hours. The not knowing if it’s day or night. The screaming matches which had us both in tears. The days that stretched on forever. It feels as though I glanced away for a second, and now all that is over. I held a friend’s newborn the other day. A week old, he was, and I sat there staring at him, perplexed, wondering how I never remembered Ella being that tiny. I looked at them side by side, and felt shocked by the difference. I never even saw it, the change. It’s like I just woke up and she’s different.

That exercise ball has never been used.

 

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I’m not allowed to show you our bedroom. I took a photo of it but when Joel caught me, he forbid me to share it. If even Joel is ashamed of how it’s holding up, I can say with certainty that it’s not pretty. It really isn’t.

 

Starting a new weekly tradition. Photo Phone Dump. My small, happy things.

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papa building with his girl :: coffee + writing = love :: afghan quilt etsy score :: morning play :: first splash of bling and she’s loving it :: new fav Ella thing…hand resting :: thrift shop bargains :: mamas and babies bundled in my lounge room

This was taken using Instagram free app and uploaded onto a collage using a photo editing program (I use Lightroom). You can follow the red tent feed on Instagram here.

 

Have a fabulous day, red tenters. May you discover lots of happy, small things too.

x

7 Responses to “Home Sweet Home”

  1. Jennifer Butler Basile

    Beautiful. Love how Ella’s already started on her own tent!

    Reply

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