I want a house

I was thinking today about my life and work, and realized that I really want a house. Having lived in far too many different places in our eight years of marriage, and most of them apartments in cities, I really want to live somewhere where I have a stake in its prosperity, and where there is room to expand.

Having lived under the restrictions imposed by landlords, from the crazy rule that all walls (even the internal ones!) had to remain this certain off-white, to the guys who jack your rent with no apparent reason or concern, I want to own something. Call it raging against the man. Call it wanting some self-determination in my otherwise turbulent life.

Much of that time has also been sharing an office with our 9month old, who will only want more and more space (and her own bathroom, someday) over time. This year we've had a bit of a garden (and only a bit of time to spend in it, but I guess that speaks more of my priorities than my space available. So I'd like four bedrooms, or space to construct an office apart (possibly the better option, anyway).

Enough room (and walls?) to segregate our living functions (caring for the house, children, etc, office work) so they can work at full capacity without butting against each other for geography, as they currently do.

Anyway, as long as I'm dreaming...

But I realize that this is not the end of life, and some or all of these things may well need to be sacrificed for something more important.

Pillow fights

This morning my children finally caught on to pillows as a medium of entertainment that doesn't have to involve adults. The five year old runs around and collects all the pillows, then piles them systematically on the 9 month old, who pushes them off as quickly as she can. Ultimately she is buried, at which point everyone sees just how much fun this game is.

Occasionally she gets scared, or hurt, or from some reason she starts to cry or whine, and I teach the boys to back off and comfort her. They got the idea surprisingly quickly, and I was unexpectedly pleased at how infrequently they needed to back off. It was almost as if they are learning to be gentle with her. Or maybe it is because they're throwing pillows on her instead of legos -- or, say, matchbox cars...