Maine Creative Momma

Last January, we bought the house in which we currently reside. My husband said that this is the last house he will live in, and we should buy cemetery plots at the lot across the street because when he goes it doesn’t want to have to move far. I laughed and said “yeah, alright”.

Fast forward to October 2024 and I’m sitting in my living room, in front of the big window, scrolling Zillow. I have my newborn baby in my arms. And I’m just looking. Not even locally, actually several hundred miles away. Just because.

I came across a listing for a home that was built in 1990 (34 years ago!) that was for sale. It was a single owner home. They built it and lived there for over 30 years. The thought of that shook me to my core as I realized that was normal.

When my husband said he would never move again, I understood why. In the 11 years we had been together at that point we had moved 7 times. And in the last 3 years we did 4 of those moves.

Did you know that you need to own a home for two years to avoid paying capital gains tax? We did. So we owned a home for exactly two years and one day in Exeter, NH.

My now two year old son lived in three houses before he was 19-months old. As we put up a third Christmas tree in his little life I realized it was the third time he watched me try to find the perfect place for it because it was, yet again, new.

I could say that we moved a lot when I was a kid so that’s why I move a lot as an adult. That’s not an untrue statement, but reality is that before my mom retired and moved in with us she lived in the same place for almost 15 years. My mom knew how to hunker down, so why don’t I?

The truth that hit me when I was sitting there, a sleepy newborn on my chest, the beautiful sunshine streaming in, and the sound of my toddler getting ready for daycare was that I am fundamentally afraid to stay home. I am afraid to become comfortable in a place, to make real memories, and to be a soul who is tethered to a building. To a house. To a home. I realized in that moment that I rarely, if ever, imagine myself in a place for more than a few years. I see jobs as building blocks to a career, not a place to spend thirty years. Three, four years at the most.

The hard truth is that I thrive in the chaos. My mind hates to be quiet. To be at rest. To be at peace. I hate to sit and ponder. I hate to be contained. I hate to follow an endless routine. It’s not that I love to cause chaos for others, although my actions often do, but I excel at being the one who does it all.

Moves between states and homes without taking a vacation. With a toddler. With a husband and my mom.

Works 50-60 hours a week, running on 4 hours sleep a night, eating meals I mostly cook but also eating out a LOT.

Laundry, cleaning, organizing, downsizing, packing, unpacking, making appointments, taking on more work, keeping up with friends, posting on socials, and pretending I have it all together.

In that moment, in October 2024, I realized how burned out I truly was. Not just from my job (which has its own special version of chronic chaos), but from the life I had created. The life that I was forcing my husband to life, along with my poor mom who just wanted to enjoy her retirement I’m sure. The life I was building for my sons. I had created a world where I was looking constantly for the “next” thing. The next job, the next house, the next bill to pay off, the next restaurant to try. I was not looking at what I already had.

I looked at my beautiful newborn baby and felt so much shame for what I had put his brother through. And what I was genuinely thinking about doing to him too. Life of chaos, life of looking for the next, life of desiring more without understanding how to enjoy the now. Enjoy the here. Enjoy the people you have in the space that is yours.

So I made a promise to myself, to my boys, to my family. 2025 was going to be the year of home. Home cooked meals, staycations, home improvements, and homemade gifts. I’ve delved into the world of making food truly from scratch. It’s ironic that it coincided with a time when the world has suddenly realized too how bad processed foods are, but that’s the joy of coming to a life changing realization in an election year I suppose. (And, not for nothing, but it’s truly incredible to me how many people are actually against trying to clean up our food industry. That, however, is a topic for another day). I’ve flooded my social media with homemade recipes, ideas of how to improve diets, and cooked everything I can from scratch. I went from being afraid to bake to that’s how I spend every Sunday in a few weeks time.

I suppose the benefit of thriving in chaos is that I can quickly pivot myself to new focuses.

It’s now the second week of February and I am still doing ok with being home. January felt like it was about a year long, truthfully. But that’s can be the case for any January in Maine. It’s cold, dark, and exceedingly quiet. February has already seemed to fly by, and before I know it we will be heading into April as March is always the month that seems to fly by without a second thought.

In this time of cozy, home focused, life, I am seeing myself find a bit more joy, a bit more balance, and a bit more steady state.

I am feel happier, most days.

I am feeling more tethered. More at peace.

I am seeing things I want to improve in my current space rather than looking to scrap it all and start over.

I am seeing my toddler learn to cook and bake along side me. I can see in my minds eye a future with two littles in the kitchen on Sundays.

I am feeling better physically, I’ve lost a significant amount of weight just eating at home. My husbands health and wellbeing is improving as well.

There are times that I want to quit and just order out. Or run away when I realize that I don’t love the layout of my kitchen. And I do cry most days when I have to go down two flights of stairs to get to my laundry. But overall focusing on being home, and making home happy, is working. I am seeing some of the chaos fall away, the desire for change disparaging.

I suppose another word for 2025 might be satisfied.

Satisfied with life, with home, with family, and with who I am right now, today, in this moment.

I don’t imagine this will be my last writing on the subject. But I’m happy I got this out today.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for reading.

Happy 2025 to you. I hope your word of the year is as significant as mine is and has been already.