Dreaming of a house...

I've made a decision today. I am not going to look longingly at houses anymore. It is making me feel like where I live now is a mistake. I refuse to do that to myself. If we get a house someday, it will be nice. Until then, I am going to make the best of where we live now and be happy here. I'm no longer looking over the proverbial fence at somebody else's grass.

I may not have a traditional in the ground garden, but I do have a garden. I have my rose bush. I am growing vegetables and flowers. I will be growing some herbs again. This may not be the garden that I grew up with, but it is *MY* garden and that is all that matters.

My home is just the size for what we need right now. I am going to continue to get rid of and donate things that are excess and not of sentimental value. I am going to continue to pare back the random crap that I have kicking around until I have reached the core of what is important. I am going to be happy here.

It is not a matter of 'bloom where you're planted' as much as when we moved in I was excited about the potential for this place. As we moved our things in, the apparent space available diminished. Then the kids' toys piled up and apparent space diminished again. This is not a small apartment.

The one downstairs is. It is the size of my living room, the boy's room, and half of the kitchen. I am going to make the best of what space we have and what blessings we have here. I am going to make a point of being thankful for what is here. And I am going to aggressively pursue getting the best out of what we have here.

I'm not going to worry about a house. We can't afford one right now. And that's ok. More space would turn into more stuff and that would become more anxiety. I am not going to do that to myself.