Big Boys, Little House

Our house is 988 square feet; 3 bedrooms, 1 bathroom and one tiny outdoor laundry room. That's for 5 people. I know, the math scares me too.

Last Sunday, we were all gathered together in Lucas and Max's shared bedroom, a giant pile of Lego's spread out on the floor. For nearly two hours, we all dug through the box discovering favorite mini-figures, building wonky looking vehicles and trying to keep Max from eating little blocks. It was a mess and it was cramped, but we were all together. 

In a little house, there's nowhere to hide. Family time is all the time because the kitchen/dining room/office and living room are essentially all the same space. Sometimes it can be maddening and you feel like the walls are closing in. As the months fly by, elbows and knees start knocking into walls and door frames in ways they didn't before; heads bonk into counter tops and legs and arms overlap on a just barely big enough couch. 

We are outgrowing our little house. 

And yet ...

While the prospect of a big beautiful two story home with 3,000 square feet, a staircase, 4-5 bedrooms, 2-3 bathrooms, a fireplace and a pool on an acre sound, well, pretty good, there's something about our little house that I just can't quit. 

It's where I've brought all three of my babies home from the hospital. It's the house that David and I scraped together enough money to buy when we were still babies ourselves 12 years ago. We've made so many improvements and renovations to it over time and know our neighborhood like the back of our hand. It's where my scraggly pineapples grow, and where our beloved pets are buried. It is our home. 

We certainly could afford a bigger house even though they are hard to find in our area. We've looked and looked, but none have quite had the charm or all of the bells and whistles we would want to take the plunge. Plus it would make things tighter than ever; there would be no more wanderlust weekends to travel and explore, no more concerts, no more fun. We would have space and keep up with the Jones's, but at a very dear cost.

Not to mention the fact that maybe we don't want to make the boys too comfortable at home ... they'll eventually need a little incentive to leave the nest. Also, what do I do with all of that space once the house is empty some day? Ugh and the prospect of cleaning all of that space just depresses me.

So the search for more space for our boys marches on. Maybe we will build on to the compound and enjoy the best of both worlds. Until then, I'll fancy our family as a part of the tiny house movement and just make do like so many other mothers before me through time.