the house that built me.

this is my house.

my home.

i haven't been a true resident here in years.

my bedroom has changed.
but it's still mine.

maybe just a little fancier thanks to a 
healthy homegoods obsession shared by me and my mother.

the room over the garage was finished over 10 years ago.

yet it's still referred to as "the new room".

the grandfather clock has a new home but still chimes the same.

the piano has been replaced 
but the new one can still handle my dad playing a mean version of 
'Batman'. 
the best breakfasts are made here. 

there's new carpet,

a new patio,

new driveway,

new windows and doors,

plants have quadrupled in size,

the list goes on

but it's still the same.

it's still mine and always will be.


today i get to go back.

just for a night,

it's never long enough,

but i'll take it.

seems like miranda lambert knows exactly how i feel...

ps.

mom, 

seriously, 

put the napkins back in the correct drawer.

they've lived there for too many years and they don't deal well with change!

xo.