I love where we live.
I love the feel of our house; it just feels comfy and loving. I felt that the first time we ever toured it, which is why we bought it. I love my big honking backyard. I love how the little grape vines we lovingly and optimistically planted almost 13yrs ago now grow right over our patio and shade us from the hot summer sun. I love that our girls can actually reach a full out sprint in the expanse of our yard while chasing Tylee The Wonder Dog.
Yet sometimes I feel so crowded in our house. I see friends' houses and I think, wow *I* want a bigger house like they have! I do licensed daycare in our house. I hate having to shuffle toys and furniture and highchairs around every morning to set up for daycare, and having to move everything out of the way every night so we can relax and watch TV in our livingroom. I hate that Zoe's room is so small that the only time she ever spends time in it is when friends' kids are over or when she's sleeping. She's another grade away from middle school and having homework every night. How will we ever fit a study desk in her 7x10 foot room?
We have one bathroom...oy vey I don't wanna even think about 2 young ladies and me and Lawr getting ready in the morning. I guess I want more for my kids (??) but they don't know any different, they're happy..so why am I wanting to sell?
I think I'm going thru some sort of mid life thing. It hit me the other day...On May 17th I'm turning 42.
42.
FORTY TWO.
I started thinking of things like how I never went to college or university and how I never took a summer off to tour Europe, and I haven't been to Hawaii, I've never been anywhere tropical. I'm starting to look at life from the point of how long do I have left instead of how long have I been here. What will I be remembered for? In 8 years, I'll be turning 50. Nic will be turning 20 and Zoe will be turning 18, graduating. Am I still going to do daycare in a 3 bedroom rancher? Do I want to?
Maybe I'm just caught up in stupid consumerism gotta buy bigger, gotta have better...
We had an amazing Easter dinner with Maureen and Fiona and Nolan last night. We met almost 9yrs ago when I first opened my daycare. Fiona and Nolan grew up in our little house, toilet trained here, shared laughs and grew to be best friends with our girlies. They're actually more like siblings than best friends. Maureen and Fiona and Nolan are family.
Nolan has been telling us everytime he see us that he's sad we're selling our house because it's his first daycare house, there's a lot of memories here. Out of the corner of my eye I've seen Nic and Zoe kinda nodding. OMG what am I doing to them?
I got frustrated with Lawr last night after dinner and went out in the carport to clear my head while he and Maureen drove the PC and dialled up the youtube vids for awhile and talked. I was over my harrumph and came back inside quietly because I could hear they were deep in some discussion. I stood in the kitchen, not wanting to barge into their conversation. It broke my heart to hear him say he's so upset about selling our house, he loves our house, he's too old to be re-mortgaging and uprooting, this is our grow old together house. At first I was shocked and hurt and angry that he was telling our best friend these things instead of me.
Then it hit me. Holy crap he really loves me and our little love nest.
Ugh. It's pouring rain out. I'm hungover from last night's rich food and plentiful wine. I'm emotionally worn out. I feel like some horribly shrewish bossy overbearing woman that's trying to take away everyone's comfort and stability.
I got the kitchen all cleaned up this morning and had it all to myself to just think me thinks while everyone snoozed and slowly came to life. I spotted a bird I've never seen before in my backyard on the garden fence and watched the raindrops wind their way down the grape vines.
And then I had my epiphany.
It's time to call our realtor. I love my crowded little house too much to ever sell it.
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