Good morning beautiful readers. It has been one whole week in our new home, somehow flying by while still letting me savor it. Every day something clicks into place and I keep catching myself smiling at the smallest things. A light switch exactly where I need it. A quiet morning that is calmer than the last place. That moment when you realize this is home now.
We are finally unpacked, which is a huge win after what seemed like an endless mountain of boxes. All that is left are our shades, hopefully arriving this weekend. Until then the house stays bright from morning to evening, and honestly I do not mind one bit.
Our couch however, is testing my patience. Four to twelve weeks stretches into a lifetime when all you have to sit on is a futon that should have stayed in storage. It is uncomfortable in a way that makes you constantly shift positions and question every decision that led you there. Thankfully our lounge chairs should arrive sometime this week. Once the couch arrives we will start furnishing the guest bedrooms and officially call this place complete.
Other than that we are settled. Truly settled.
We are leaning into a warm Scandinavian design throughout our home. Soft tones, cozy textures and spaces that feel calm instead of cluttered. Nothing too precious, just intentional and inviting.
The kitchen has quickly become my favorite room. I have been making dinner every night and packing breakfast for my husband every morning, which carries a quiet kind of romance. The kind found in ordinary routines and familiar rhythms. This weekend though, it is his turn to cook, and I plan to enjoy every second of being off duty.
I have not baked yet which is unlike me, but I am saving it for when I can really take my time. Baking is my therapy, especially the long recipes that require patience and leave the house smelling warm and comforting.
My husband gets to stay home today since he is on call this weekend which means we are staying in. He also finished putting together my writing corner, and I cannot explain how much that meant to me. Having my own space to write and brainstorm again feels like returning to something familiar and grounding.
The fence is on his to do list, just waiting on materials to arrive, so our fur babies can soon run freely. For now mornings are still chilly and slow, the kind that make you pause and wonder why winter insists on being so dramatic.
This weekend looks simple in the best way. A quick grocery run, maybe brunch on Sunday, nothing rushed. My birthday is next weekend and I am already looking forward to it. I am turning 25, which is both exciting and tender in its own way. I love my birthday. My husband always makes it special, and he already has a gift waiting for me. He refuses to give even one hint and I have absolutely no guesses, but he is an excellent gift giver so I trust the mystery completely.
Lately I am very much in my clean girl wifey era and I am loving it. I am also thinking about joining a gym or maybe a Pilates studio. Something supportive, gentle and aligned with where I am right now. I am still figuring out what kind of movement fits best into this season.
So here we are:
One week of turning rooms into routines.
A futon doing its best while we wait for a couch.
A kitchen full of nightly dinners and quiet mornings.
A writing corner already holding new ideas.
A birthday just around the corner with a secret wrapped in love.
And me, settled, cozy and easing into this chapter one soft day at a time.
