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As the feeling grows, the house grows

You may say I am a bit too much. But for the hundred times, I want to tell you that I love my house. I love every sweat I spent to build it. Every advertising awards I won that gave me millions of money and Ace Hardware vouchers. Every single corner I made even the spot where to put the toilet. Every fights I had with my brother since he was the architect. Every bureaucracy I encountered for the paperworks.  Every supports from people around, specially my father who kept his eyes on the progress. Every tears I poured when I entered the rocky years and the house was abandoned for quite sometimes.

Yet the house is still here, and I love it even more.

2007

The idea of building the house actually popped out when I got tired of trying to conceive. After I went through so many doctors, I became stress and I thought I needed to find an as big distraction as trying to conceive a baby. With all the guts, I made the big step. My father gave me the 225 square meteres land in the west of Jakarta, just right next to my parent's house and I applied an 11 years mortgage to build it. After a few months, I got pregnant. We moved in a few weeks after I gave birth.

The house has been the silent witness of what ever happened in my life. It has witnessed so much beginnings and many endings. I am one of those people who believes that a house reflects who's inside. Especially the mother. Or the wife. And I regretted I ever abandoned the house as I neglected many things in my life before.

Years passed. Nearly six years since the house stood tall, as old as my oldest son. Now I am slowly picking up all the pieces and is trying to rebuild and recolour it. With the help of my husband, the one who always supports me what ever I want to do in life.

After a few weeks, we finally finished our renovation. The second floor that has always been empty, is now planned to be a more lively room as I (Insya Allah) gave birth in a few months. There will be kid's room for Malicca and the little baby. There will be a chalkboard wall so they can sketch as big as their dream. There will be an indoor swing that will keep them happy. There will be tons of books and a reading nook so they can travel their mind everywhere. There will be me and my husband watching them from the patio. There will be us. Insya Allah.

The drawer stairs, now with lights. 

The new focal point in green, still an empty wall. 

Soon to be a happening floor, Insya Allah.

Proud kid who picked his own colour for his bathroom

I am happy.
I dedicate this post to my beloved husband, Ariawan. The agile guy I met when I was 16. I thank God we met each other again after 14 years.
I love you, Bubu.

2013

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to ariawan, a guy of mine,
the one who always wake me up from my princessy dreams. love you.



Three hours late.

2 AM and I stepped in to the house. Hubby was waiting for me. This was not the first time, and not the latest hour I had ever experienced with over time.

"See you soon Bunda. Or at 8, or at 9, or at 10, or at 11 like you said you would be late." Said my son.

I smiled as I entered the house. I smelled home. I saw my beautiful mess. As I picked up some toys on the floor, I imagined what games the kids had played today. There was a drawing, mini ceramics pots, not too chaotic for kids who were left with nini and aki without nannies.

I also saw their time tables, with some check marks on the list. Those that they weren't checked was the responsibility to wash their own dishes. I saw some dirty cups piling up. I saw the microwave's door left half-opened, a baking sheet and a knife. I wonder what they have cooked.
I also saw minecraft was in active window and some search on youtube and google.

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