i always think it’s silly when people apologize for not writing on a blog, because it’s their personal space and they should feel free to write or not write as much as they want. so consider this more of an explanation than an apology, i guess?
since august, we have been inside 13 houses (i’m not superstitious, thankfully), put in offers on 3, driven past countless others, toured one way-too-small rental, and…….nothing.
nothinggggggggggggggggggg has happened. not one of those options has panned out for us.
we have lived here for 6 months and 3 weeks. the 15th will make it 7 months. i am so, so sick of living in my parents house. i can’t tell you how desperately i want to be in my own place again. i feel like i am bursting at the seams sometimes, wishing we could go back to a family of 3 - not 6 (7 when my sister is home on college breaks).
please don’t misunderstand me, i’m not being ungrateful. i am so thankful to have a place to stay that is safe and warm, with people that love me. i keep reminding myself that people in many other countries would be thrilled with the situation i have. i keep thinking about the israelites in the wilderness for 40 years…..or abraham being 100 before he had isaac, or joseph being unjustly kept in prison for years.
next to those, my wish sounds so petty. i get that.
but it flies up in my face with a million little things each day.
i miss my mattress.
i miss my fluffy white down comforter.
i miss my furniture, my art, and my baskets.
i miss using my white plates.
i miss draining pasta in my pink colander.
i miss my coffee mugs.
i miss having a baby-proofed house.
i miss my deep-freezer being filled with food i’ve stocked up on or cooked ahead.
i miss my books.
i miss seeing photos of the three of us all around the house.
i miss not being able to decorate and re-arrange furniture.
i miss my candles.
i miss being in charge of my kitchen and being able to leave a mess there if i feel like it.
i miss having the freedom to yell, kiss, or talk to my husband about whatever i want, wherever i want,
i miss listening to our favorite cds while i’m cooking dinner and he’s playing with luke.
it’s so many small moments every day that all add up and sometimes overwhelm me. lately i’ve just felt like i had nothing meaningful to say here because in so many ways i can’t help feeling like my life is on hold.
waiting is so, so, so hard.