Ten months ago, my longtime friend Meredith and I took a trip we had been chatting about for years. As we turned 30, we decided that it was time to venture to Waco, TX to indulge in all that Chip & Joanna Gaines had built. When we stepped into Magnolia’s Little Shop on Bosque, some shelves caught our eyes. They were filled with loungewear sets on clearance. As we stepped closer, we noticed the tops were embroidered with the word homebody— a piece of each of our identities that encouraged us to make the purchase. We returned to our AirBnb, and I had mine on in a matter of minutes, excited for the kickback time we had scheduled. I snapped this photo of myself to remember how cozy and joyful I felt in that moment, and I’m nestled in it as I’m writing now.
About a month had gone by since our return home, and a teammate at school asked me how my long weekend was. “It was fine” I said. . . “kinda boring.” She laughed and replied, “I could see how it might have felt boring after the last few weekends that you’ve had.” For three consecutive weeks in May, I had celebrated with friends and family. My 30th birthday, engagement party, and the NAMI Walk in memory of Michael brought loved ones, balloons, laughter, and sweet treats. I suppose we crave different things in different moments or seasons of our lives. In that moment, I was craving more togetherness and loud, vibrant celebration. This moment that I’m sitting in now feels different. Our fall and winter weekends were jam packed with celebrations– weddings, birthdays, showers. Go. Go. Go. For months now, I’ve been craving more alone time to rest and reconnect with the simple joys of my ordinary days.
The last two weekends have allowed me to reclaim the homebody part of myself. The truth? I’m hiding out until our plane takes off in less than a week (flashback to ‘The Balcony’ in July), but seeing four blank squares on the calendar as we transitioned to February felt life giving to me. As I look back and admire the last two weekends, I want to remember:
Teaming up in the kitchen to recreate heaping bowls of lasagna soup,
Sliding into bed and fully appreciating the fresh flannel sheets,
Leaning into my chair pillow and inhaling the smell of a new book,
Quiet of the mornings filled with extra cups of coffee,
The sweet taste of our February donut selections,
Breathing in the crisp air on brisk walks around the neighborhood we’ve called home for 4 years,
Sinking into the couch and drifting off to (some extra) sleep,
The comfort of my baggy Cape Cod sweatpants,
Pushing myself through dumbbell workouts in the living room,
Streaming murder mysteries,
Stuffing and stamping our Save the Date envelopes,
Discovering “The Stories We Tell” podcast,
The contentment brought by my skincare routine,
Finally opening up my hand lettering workbook in an effort to try something new.
Mostly, I want to remember that I was able to find joy and peace as I reclaimed the homebody piece of me.
We have a couple of friends who always say, “You’re the busiest people we know!” On the outside, I laugh because I know many others who are much busier than we are. On the inside, I long to slow down and just enjoy the small space we call home. Next week, we venture to an all inclusive resort for a family vacation. I look forward to catching some rays, sipping colorful cocktails, and making memories. By the time February break comes to a close, I just know that home will be calling my name because, at my core, I am a homebody.
QUIMBYnotRamona 