Back from Myrtle Beach just a few days ago, I can't help but feel a wee bit more cramped in this little apartment. Maybe it's the addition of bags of shells we brought home, or the sandy shoes, or the lack of ocean in our window views. Maybe it's the sound of traffic and sirens instead of waves and fireworks. Either way, back to reality and the city.
In a few weeks we will move again. This time to a house we hope is our forever home, but I guess you never know. For now we are going to hope it will be, and I spend evenings picking out wall colors and fabrics and try to imagine rooms where our girls can grow up. It makes me wish I could slow it all down.
Yet, there are moments when I wish they would hurry up and grow up - act mature, do the right thing without me asking 145 times, and for goodness sake stop drawing on the walls and furniture (yes, Mom, I know they are a chip off the old block.) See, although the hinges are a bit shot from the kids opening the lid with toys on the top, I still have my old toybox. And, inside that old toybox is a wonderful picture I drew when I was four. Probably feeling cramped and balking at the changes yet another sibling brought with him, I drew angry red men all over the house, including on the underside of that toybox lid. So, when I painted it white for my girls to use, I excluded that one part, and it is a reminder always that one day I was a kid with a red crayon and some angst. :)
I'm rambling. Off to read before bed. Wish I were still at the beach...
Oh PS - I guess I need to rename this blog now that we no longer live in a little house in Takoma Park. Ideas?
