I've been experiencing a serious case of remorse over our house lately. I'm realizing it's way larger than what we need at this point in our lives. The fact that I've been questioning whether or not I want to have kids is a big factor, too. Two stories and four bedrooms is a lot for two people. In fact, since we've moved, I've found myself becoming more and more interested in the tiny house movement. Hubby and I have actually agreed that we'd like to build/buy a tiny vacation house somewhere/someday. That lifestyle appeals to me far more than a house with a bunch of extra rooms we only use on occasion. I mentioned in a previous post that ever since we moved in, I've been making a point of getting rid of a lot of my stuff. My actions are more in line with someone who's downsizing, not upgrading. I feel I'd be way happier in a tiny house.
Don't get me wrong; I love this house. But I'm realizing that bigger isn't the answer. We had it just as good at our old house. I just refused to see past the surface. The basement got water--sure--but it's not like that was unfixable; I just didn't want to wait around anymore for it to get done. We had carpenter ants, too, but removing the old rotting deck helped that situation immensely. Not only that, but hubby spent a buttload of money replacing said deck with a big beautiful patio the year before we moved, and we never really got a chance to use it. What a waste of money. Every house has issues and things that need repairing, and if it doesn't, it will eventually. We already had everything we needed. Did I feel like I deserved more?
My biggest problem right now is keeping up with regular maintenance, inside and out. Not only is the house itself big, but the yard is, too. Once we get a decent fence put up, it'll be great for our two dogs, but that's a lot of grass to mow and weeds to pull. I recently cut back to only one job, but I'm getting more hours than I was before. I have weekends off most of the time, but they're like mini-vacations to me now (I had forgotten what they were like as I haven't had them off like this in about two years), and all I want to do is be lazy. I have days when I get into a zone and clean absolutely everything in sight, but then I'll go weeks without doing it again.
Maybe I'll feel better once I figure out a plan-of-attack for this place. And maybe it's still too soon to talk. We've only been here just under a year. I've heard it sometimes takes years for a place to really start feeling like home. In a way, we're still living like we did in our previous house. We spend the majority of our time in the kitchen, family room and (master) bedroom. I've kind of monopolized the kitchen because it's the only room in the house I feel I can keep up with. Hubby practically lives in the family room, so it's both dining room and lounge area for him.
Just needed to rant about this. My dad warned me that I'd feel this way, but I didn't think it'd come this late or last this long. I probably just need to give it more time. Read an article recently that claimed it's perfectly normal to be grateful and want more at the same time. I have mixed feelings about that claim, but it's kind of where I'm at right now.