Living in one bedroom with my small family has left me wanting a lot. I want a house- a home, my own kitchen, my own comfy couch to be lazy on and eat ice cream out of the container in my jammy-jams. I want everything I see on etsy, because it would look so great in our home in France or our home next year. I want to make decor and toys for Ike. I want to create a safe place for my son. A place where he can relax and let down his spike. I definitely have not enjoyed living in the house we are living in now. I want a place where I can make a batch of cookies for my husband. Or even a meal for him! I want a place where I can teach Ike how to stack blocks on a cozy rug and then knock down the tower because we are wrestling. I don't want to complain because this is right where God wants my family- but are those things too much to ask? A cozy rug? An oven?
More importantly, living in one bedroom with my small family has taught me a lot. Sure, there's nothing wrong with wanting a place with all the comforts that come with a house, but the comforts are still in our small bedroom just as they would be in large house. They're just harder to see. Everyday we leave the house early around 8am or 9 and we don't come home until nap time around 1pm or 2. We run around Sg finding things to do. We make friends. We greet the mrt workers we see a bajillion times a day, and we go to new places. I know for a fact if I were comfy in my own little corner in my own little chair then I would not have experienced Sg the way I have thus far. Some days, we got on the MRT and had no idea where we were going to go that day. We had so many walks where we ended up drenched in sweat and lost- not my favorite combo, but those walks were life we never would have experienced sitting on the couch watching Little Einstein's. Whether the moments were good or bad, we still had moments. Some were hectic and left us both wanting to go home- to a real home with our own walls and hide under the covers, but the moments that weren't make it all worth it. I'm glad we didn't have a home here in Sg. I'm glad our home is the MRT, the family room at INSEAD, pastamania, vivocity, cold storage, the botanic gardens, orchard road, bread talk, empress market, holland village, bugis street, sentossa island. I'm glad that home means us, together, and not couch with ice cream. These last four months, home has been uncomfortable, frustrating, and a lot of tired legs; but we have had life together. Life experiences that walls could never hold up. Home has been encouraging emails from friends and family. Home has been leaning on each other. I'm so weak and then I watch Ike light up while he dances on the bench and entertains the crowd. You are worn out from school and come home to a happy child and wife so anxious to see you. Ike gets tired of walking and we carry him and teach him things along the way. Home has been picking each other up so we can see the good around the corner. Helping each other to the next comfy place because we are in the middle of life- together. It hasn't been conventional, but it has been a chapter in our story for the grandkids.
*photo: Arenal Volcano on our trip to Costa Rica