It's not like there was an elephant in the room. It was more like the feeling of a toilet that's leaking water and you know something needs to be tightened up.
Our time practicing small living has not been like a movie, well mostly.
Let's start with the most fun. Love making has been more creative. Right now my sister is again, wishing she didn't know me! You have to make it a priority whether you have 2,000 square feet or 600. (not sure how big this place is...I've heard a little less than 6 and a little more...) Fortunately, because I've been a strict nighttime enforcer (not as compassionate during the evening hours about getting out of bed for every possible emotion you have and expecting me to do something about it--you're fine, you're fed, you're awesome, you're tired, go back in there) and because I'm with them all day, when 8pm hits, I'm more of the substitute teacher...there if you need me but only for dire emergencies...haaaa.
Another fun part of this exercise has been the amount of time I've created. By eliminating my stuff and my need to clean my stuff, I have time. This month, we've added 2 service projects for church. It was so great to do this together.
A third fun part has been the sleeping together. I had to add this one as the first point might have diminished my credibility. (the one about being the strict bedtime lady). Many nights, we are resting in our beds together (sometimes holding hands---don't roll your eyes!) talking and magically a big, huge wash of contentment floods over me. We have one full bed (double) and one and a half twins. I say one and a half because one of the twin mattresses is stuffed under my frame as the whole thing couldn't fit. It's been my favorite part about this little space. The blankets are abundant, the air conditioning strong and we all cozy in and I can almost hear Pa from Little House on the Prairie praying a blessing over us. Everyone has their own little space, cozy comforter and 3 pillows each (that's one thing we do big over here, tons of pillows). Because hubby is up very early for work, he's often in bed early and asks me to join in the snuggle.
Because we came in with hardly any clothes or shoes, keeping the laundry going has been manageable. I like doing laundry, so that's been fun. I'm using the complex washateria/laundromat. Sometimes I get grossed out thinking of Punjar's international underwear having just been washed before my perfect rose smelling underclothes enters THE SAME SPACE...but then I just trust Charlie's laundry soap to take away all prejudices and stains.
Cooking and storage of some Costco items has been a challenge and on a couple occasions, the big box of freeze dried fruit is on the floor in the kitchen. The dishwasher hasn't worked for a month and a half and so I just have to stay on top of that, otherwise I can get really tempted.
So back to the elephant and the toilet. Each time we have to sit and talk as a couple, which has been pretty rare these past 3 weeks as he has been at work on the weekends too and late nights, I expect him to deliver a grand perfect plan to me in the evenings as we talk and drink tea. It's almost as if he doesn't want to begin the same conversation we've been having that ebs and flows. Last night it went like this.
It sounds stupid now that I'm writing it, but if I'm honest, I want it. I want an attainable, rational task sheet handed to me that I can tackle and manage and execute.
Last night he didn't give it to me and I was so frustrated.I was almost worse than a 3 year old crying over the blue cup instead of the desired yellow one.
I want land.
I want a small, custom house.
I want an art/media studio separate from the house.
I want land.
I want water.
I want roaming room.
I want a different job for him with less hours and more pay (?)...yes, I want this.
I want to live by my family.
I want to live by my friends. (who live more than a thousand miles apart from each other)
I want coffee on a porch.
I want a porch. I want a porch.
I want to sell groceries I've grown at a farmers market and
I want to buy coffee beans from the same market thats
down the road a bit on my bike that I ride with a basket attached.
I need it to happen now so that my 12 1/2 year old doesn't grow up in an apartment in the city (this would be bad, in my opinion... ;)
I then had to painstakingly walk through WHAT I KNOW TO BE TRUE.
I trust God. I trust God and I trust God.
He is a good father.
He knows the plan.
He has the timing figured out.
He is trustworthy.
(Then husband reminded me) "He will work out details in a way that we can certainly know it was God. We cannot rush this Lisa. We've asked to do something different and now we practice it.
He is good. He knows us."
He is faithful.
I threw myself down on the couch and began to cry. He asked if I wanted a blanket---I abruptly said no (because when you are having a temper tantrum anything anyone asks, you tend to give an abrupt answer---it's almost allowed, almost) He then turned off the light and went to bed. "Come on Lisa, come to bed..." he whispered. The old me might have gotten even more frustrated, but I am practicing WHAT I KNOW TO BE TRUE. He loves me and he loves me.
I changed into my ugly, decent, you-live-with-almost-teenage-boys pajamas, huffed as I almost slammed my head down into my pillow. He reached over and began to whisper, "shhh, give it to God, shhh" as he rubbed my wrinkled wet brow. I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT. My emotions will eventually catch up. This isn't like the movies. This isn't going according to my plan. And I'm almost ready to say "yeah!"...almost...
