I mean this in a couple of ways...
First, the house has become closer and closer to my perfect house - one I could raise my kids in. It's not huge but it's big and there's plenty of room for sleeping, eating, playing, growing and running around. The walls are painted in colors that I like. The living room is arranged as I like it. The front porch is a great place to hang out in good weather, and the back porch will soon be the perfect, cute, little mudroom.
But we are running out of money. And unless I get a job, or we win the lottery, or someone takes a shining to us and gives a few grand, well, we just can't stay here too much longer. Maybe for another year, but not for another five.
The tricky part for me is that I knew this was coming. I've always *said* that I was picking out light fixtures and vanities that would be attractive to most people, but there was always a part of me that was fibbing. I've been crafting a house that I would want. And now that I almost have it, well, I have to start living again as if we are just house sitting until the real owners show up.
This bums me out.
Secondly, I am too tired to keep a tidy home and be a good mother to my children. For some stupid reason I have, as of late, chosen to strive for tidiness rather than put my energy towards loving and enjoying my children. It is true that a clean space makes me feel less stressed, but the process of having a clean space has become more stressful than the mess. Ignoring my teething son and scolding my playful daughter so I can straighten up the kitchen only leaves me feeling crappier.
So now I must throw up the white flag and acknowledge that for the next few months, and maybe even longer, I cannot control the house, the kids, and my temper. Quit worrying about the house and I'll do a better job with the kids and myself.
I am aware that this will take the strength of Christ. Seriously, I'm a pretty high strung person (I know, you know.) and He's gonna have to pull me through this one.
So if you come over, you'll have to excuse my mess.