French Country. Boho. Contemporary. Shabby Chic. Regency. The world of interior design is bursting at the seams. Perfectly staged and coordinated spaces flood Pinterest and Instagram. Styles flow effortlessly from people’s attics down to their pantries, through their living rooms and right out their back doors, across their pristinely landscaped yards to their darling, quaint chicken coops where their chickens seem to never poop. Midwest Home and Luxe magazines arrive in mailboxes…fashionably punctual of course…with promises of perfect homes just fingertips away.

Then there’s…. well, me. (And quite possibly you.) I sip my now lukewarm coffee, glance around and wonder “Well, huh. What exactly do we have going on here?” The hodgepodge bookcases are in a faceoff with the mishmash side of the room while the confused art gallery on the cupboard door perches above the misfit corner of the counter. Luckily, the hand-me-down pieces of furniture get along together better than some of us somedays and the odds and ends of busy family life squeeze themselves into the remaining gaps. Our home has absolutely no clue how to tag itself in the fashion world. I’m no longer asking it to. And folks, I’ve learned that this is ok!

We have a pantry that could shake Pottery Barn to its very core. It’s a bit like that one aisle in Aldi where you find featured food products, another bird feeder, jumper cables for the van, fuzzy slippers for grandma, a coat rack for the coat rack and that water bottle you’ve been searching for your whole life. Yet, (unlike that Aldi aisle) there is a method to the madness, and our pantry is kept clean and tidy whiles serving its purpose.

Nourishing minds and bodies, our table is the dependable platform for homecooked meals, various projects and a day’s load of schoolwork. The poor thing doesn’t have time for juggling table runners, 10 candlesticks and giant floral sprays. And neither do I. A tray …. a cute one, mind you…. with pencils, erasers and flashcards ever at the ready suit us just fine in this season of life.

Practical and simple, the rest of our home follows suit. There’s a continual attempt to sprinkle beauty and coziness into the frequently shifting flow. And I remind myself that our attitudes and actions will set the tone of a family and home in a richer, deeper manner than any perfect Pinterest board ever could.

If some homes can flawlessly flaunt an uninterrupted style statement on social media and take up decent real estate between the covers of a magazine then good for them. If the rest of us are gleaning inspiration from them and entwining small bits and pieces of a style within the limits of our active lives, available space and budget then good for us. A smile, a couple woven baskets and blankets will kindly knit a place together when all else is failing to agree on a fashion tag. Let functionality, cleanliness and tidiness be your friends. Let gratitude turn your house into a palace.

I’ve now sipped a few sips of coffee, and my pondering has reached a concrete conclusion. I know exactly what we have going on here. We have a lived in, squabbled in, sometimes camped out in, forgiven in, loved in home. And that’s plenty good enough for me.

“Home is the nicest word there is.”

~Laura Ingalls Wilder~