Habits of Home

On a pretty much daily basis, I do the exact same things within the first five minutes of walking in my front door. I sling my bag into it's proper place, drop off lunch bag/dishes/coffee mug in kitchen, and completely change into "comfy clothes." I mean I can't kick off my shoes, derobe, and redress fast enough. And it hit me today how odd this might be and I thought, "Does anyone else do this? No, I'm just weird." For instance, I walked in right at 5:00 p.m. today and now, at 5:06 I am sitting on the couch writing this in full comfy gear, which I will probably wind up sleeping in. It's not enough close to dusk and I'm in pajamas! And I do it almost everyday.

That got me thinking when and where this habit of home was formed. Two words: my mother. Queen of comfort, I watched my mom do this exact same daily ritual for 30 years now. Thanks, ma! I'm a freak. But there is something about this habit that makes me feel like the day has been left behind. The stress of class or the hard work of a project all seem to melt away when I toss my clothes into the laundry basket and slither into the calm of a tattered t-shirt and stretchy pants.

So I am now wondering what habits of home others may have...

Finally looking up in the world

(From: http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/ama/lowres/aman209l.jpg)

I am pretty tall for a girl. I often find myself looking down at or over people, particularly in my family. I am what one might call "the milkman's baby" because I am taller than almost all of my family members and have been so since about age eleven. Not really sure where I get, but it looks like another family member also possession some tall genes.

As most know, I have two half siblings--my 18 yr. old sister and my soon to be 14 yr. old brother. Because they are so much younger than me, I have enjoyed watching them "grow up" from the perspective of a parent more so than a sister. So when Sis was growing up, I always knew what she was going through--all the interesting and wonderful moments of girl-dom. Nothing was really unexpected, particularly her height. She was always pretty tiny and I knew she was going to be a petite thing, just like my stepmom. However, my brother has been a whole different story. Not being a boy, I didn't know what all to expect as he grew older, so it's been kind of a wonder to watch. But yesterday, as we were walking the streets of downtown Raleigh after lunch, I was really thrown for a loop.

I had to look up at him. Whoa.

Granted, I have been his measuring stick for the past few years now--having always been the tallest in the immediate family--as he inched his way up. I know he has been waiting for the moment when he could claim the title for himself, and it looks like that day has finally come. The uneven sidewalks of Raleigh did give him some help, but it is official: my brother is taller than me.

I know the measure of a man does not solely lie in his height, but it was fun to watch him "own" his knew status with confidence and a sly smile...that he now directs down at me!