Recently, we hosted Jed’s varsity basketball team for dinner at our house. I spent a day and a half cleaning and decluttering in preparation. In keeping with my tradition, I also spent a good amount of time fretting about how our house looks in comparison to everyone else’s museum quality, magazine ready houses. Because in my head, that’s what we’re up against. Sparkly, new, organized, beautiful, tidy homes that do not need any work or repairs, have no closets containing the things they want to hide from guests, and remain spotless no matter how many people live there. The anxiety I create about having people over is compounded by the imaginary perfection I assume everyone else maintains. 

But lately, and especially, during my preparation for this dinner, I’ve adopted a new mantra: “We’re the Weasleys.” The Weasleys are a fictional family from the Harry Potter series by JK Rowling. They become Harry’s surrogate family because he was orphaned and then mistreated by his guardians. The Weasleys have more children than we do – we have four, they have six, but each family only has one girl, and the rest are boys. And while none of my children inherited my ginger hair, all the Weasleys have red hair distinguishing them amongst other families in the wizarding world. Some of the snooty wizarding families look down on them. Their home is cozy, cluttered, crowded, and a bit crazy. Loud – definitely loud – with conversation, teasing, yelling, and laughter. They adopt numerous friends as family. Never, ever attack one of the people Mrs. Weasley cares about because she is the ultimate mama bear. The moment Harry arrives, he feels he’s found a home.  

That’s what I hope and pray our home is like. If you dropped in on us unannounced, you’d probably find a basket of unfolded laundry in plain sight, and school papers, laptops, and cups (oh the cups) on the tables or kitchen island. Backpacks and shoes, so many shoes, strewn about. The TV is on, and someone is probably loudly watching YouTube on their phone in competition. Blankets and decorative pillows are all over the couch if they’re not on the floor. The dogs will bark because they want you to pet them. No need to be intimidated here – there are no antiques or valuables to worry about. In fact, we had two plastic basketball goals in the foyer for over ten years because it has hard wood floors and resembles a basketball court. Some things, like the towel and toilet paper holders in the powder room, are broken or missing altogether and are on a long list of to-dos that never get done.  

And yet, we are real, and I hope, welcoming. I will hug you, like Mrs. Weasley, most every visit. We are loud no matter our moods, raucous, and irreverent. More than once I’ve told my people that we aren’t hiding our crazy well in front of newcomers. Yes, we ask a lot of questions, but it’s because we care. I wish I had Mrs. Weasley’s magical ability to conjure up food, but you’re welcome to snacks and drinks, and we can always order take-out. Just ask for whatever you need. 

I hope people feel comfortable in our home, and most importantly, loved. That’s what really matters, right? That’s why the Weasleys are a beloved family in literature. They love their family, and they love others whom they treat like family. So, when I’m starting to spin about all the things that are not perfect about our home, I will try to pull myself back to reality by remembering a fictional family. “We’re the Weasleys,” I tell myself. I certainly hope so.