Bigger

  Tonight, as I was watching my three youngest children play in the tub, I realized that for the next month I will have a 1 yr old, a 2 yr old and a 3 yr old. My youngest daughter turned one today, all beginning words, zombie straight leg walking and beautiful big eyes. She, lately, has been keeping up with her older siblings, letting her voice be heard, blending in with our big family. Five kids in a three bedroom, one and a quarter bath house. I realize, as I write this , that we are so lucky to have someplace warm to call home, so lucky to have a roof over our heads, a safe place to dream, play, learn, laugh and cry together.  But while I realize that, I am waiting for the bathroom to open up and  tripping over the dogs bed while sidestepping around our table, which needed to be moved into the living room in order that we can all fit around it. Needless to say, we are currently in the market for a bigger house.        

     Today, I walked through a huge, beautiful, potential house,  full of visions of my oldest daughter being able to play with her dollhouse, even during naptime, my oldest son being able to play Legos without having them knocked over and possibly eaten by his younger siblings. Better yet, my husband and I having a conversation with minimal interruptions, minimal finger raising and stern looks trying to make impatient children wait their turn.  When I got home from looking at the house, I was already visualizing what would go where, what we would do with the seemingly extra rooms.  The cavernous house had quickly become my dream house; I was immune to the dry rot around the windows, the water damage on one of the ceilings. All I could picture was enjoying the great room together, with enough space for each person to play and learn to the best of his or her ability.

                This evening, in the living room of our actual small, but loved house, my husband and I tried to have a conversation about whether the potential new house was a possibility, as my oldest daughter twirled in the middle of us in her fancy dress, my oldest son lay by my side, laughing hysterically while my youngest son tried (unsuccessfully) to pull of his long soccer socks, and my two youngest daughters took turns drumming each other and sometimes the real drum too. As these games usually do, the sock removal progressed to a noise level that was unacceptable to my level of patience, so I banished everyone to the bathroom to brush teeth. It became relatively quiet and my husband and I had an uninhibited line of sight to each other, the conversation continued for a record five minutes with zero interruptions. The relative quiet was a welcome change to our loud, loving chaotic typical night. More space was sounding better and better.

   But as I watched my children in the tub, I wondered if bigger would really be better, or just bigger. The (five!!) bathrooms in the potential house would go mostly unused for now; our children are young enough to be immune to issues of privacy. They would still choose to bathe together,  fighting and laughing from one minute to the next as only siblings can. The bedrooms (one for each!) would probably mostly sit empty, our children gravitating within a ten foot radius of where we are.  This crazy, tactile togetherness is a fleeting time. How much longer will my eight year old let me rest my chin on his head while we each read our books? How much longer will the kids want us so intimately involved with every detail of their lives that they have to wait their turns to fill us in? How much longer will we all dance in our tiny living room together, twirling around and stepping on each others’ toes?

     While we continue to look for a bigger space to make our family’s home, I am going to try to appreciate every second of this squished together, overflowing house and remember how lucky we are that our kids want to be with us, want to share their lives, want to be close. No matter where we end up,  I hope the feeling that when we are close together, we are home, will remain.