Usually I have to check my attitude when it comes to my house. I live in a small house. Tiny actually. Built in 1951, I think it was meant to be a little bungalow hideaway back when Santa Rosa was all country and farmland. When Andy and I moved in back in 2006, it was fine. But throw in a kid and well, it's a little crowded.
I have a house, though. A roof over my head. It's cute and cottagy. It's how God has provided for our family and for that I am truly thankful.
When I say my house is tiny, I'm not exaggerating. There is this one spot right between the living room and hallway (and by hallway, I mean the 3 feet of carpet that connect our bedroom, Lily's bedroom and the bathroom) where if I stand and make 360 degree revolution, I can see almost every room in my house.
This is no joke.
I was feeling a bit under the weather this morning and had a headache. I was laying on the couch, drifting in and out of sleep. I never really fell asleep, or Lily would have free reign of the house! But I knew if she got into anything I'd hear her. The nice thing about my house is that Lily can never really go anywhere or get into anything without me knowing. It's great! I did rouse out of my semi-sleep to find Lily chewing on Jackson's leash. Or "lesh" as Lily calls it. I again asked Lily the question that has become quite common in our house. "Is it food? If it isn't food, we don't put it in our mouths."
Having a small space does make it easier, in ways, to keep track of a 2 year old. I'm thankful for that. It is mine and Andy's very first house, which will always make it a special place to us.
Our First Christmas in the new house.
Our First Christmas in the new house.
Before the fence.
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