Fussypants asked what makes us happy or what we are grateful for. I’m happy right now and incredibly grateful for my life because:
- My kids are awesome,
- my husband is awesome,
- my job is great,
- my friends are awesome,
- and, finally, I love my neighborhood, yard and (with reservations) house.
Because I feel so content right now, I’ve taken to worrying that it can’t possibly stay this good:
- I’ve got four years until the teen years. Four years of bliss.
- John and I are happy. No worries.
- The job will go away in a couple years when my dad retires. I’m trying to do what I can prevent this from being catastrophic for our family. Then again, the change would involve less activities for the kids, as the money outlay for that part of our budget is a little steep. And yet? They would be the same awesome kids whether or not they take piano, gymnastics, soccer, dance and so on.
- My friends are the best bunch of women. No worries.
- Ah – the biggie. The thing John and I struggle with the most. We are happy. Our lives are great. If we or our kids really want to do something, we can afford to do it because we are basically living below our means. We love our neighborhood and our schools. We have a great backyard with plenty of room to play. But. We only have two bedrooms and with five people living in the house, things are getting squishy.
People are amazed when they hear we only have two bedrooms but the house is actually not so small – we have lots of living space, just not lots of bedrooms. It has been fine for the past 10 years (our first house was a 2 bedroom-er too), during which we have added three kids to the set up, and yet each time we have just consolidated, shifted and organized to make room.
As the kids get older, though, we keep coming to the conclusion that we need more bedrooms and I am so worried that doing this will mess up my balanced life.
So all that is to say that I am exquisitely happy and grateful for my life right now and yet I can’t help but worry about the future because things can’t stay the same without one of us going completely crazy. Or five of us.