Last night at dinner the Entertainer clutches his chest, "oh! My shoulder hurts! A chip went down the wrong pipe!" I thought maybe it was trying to get to his hollow leg, but he was even more bewildered by what that ment. Hard to believe he is almost five. How do the days fly by so quickly?

Dream House

Three months ago we moved into a 1,000 square foot, 3 bed, 2 bath house we are renting. It is tiny. The yard is huge, and is currently owned by our new dog. It sits on a busy street corner, were if the Frisbee goes over the fence, it will either get run over or cause a car accident when it flys past someones wind shield. I clean up old beer bottles along the side of our fence every week. Last week someone left their shirt behind as well. It is the smallest house we've lived in since our 900 sq foot condo, were we only had one child and a cute balcony.

I lay in bed, the golden light is pressing through the curtains. It is early, maybe 6:30, and it is the one morning this week that my husband isn't already gone for work. Most of his days start at 2 a.m. Most of mine end at 11pm. I relish feeling him next to me.

Princess Lilly and the Captain have already woken up to come snuggle us. My eye lids will not open more than a crack to acknowledge the golden, pre-rain light that is struggling to press through the clouds and into the dawn. My mind is thick with exhaustion, and it to will not open more than a crack, letting in a thought that is doused in even more gold than the light pressing through my windows: This is my dream house.

I have owned larger homes than this, lived in much more modern homes, closer to parks, further from busy streets.

But I have never in all my life had to work so hard for something. Never have we had to struggle so hard to make something our own. And though I am very tired most days, I am happy in our tiny house with our huge back yard. I am happy eating on our screened porch, where the white curtains billow in the breeze, where the washing machine hums and the dryer whirls as as we eat, adding to the heat of the summer. Our tiny kitchen and living room are to small to house a modest table and six chairs. Really, the living room is to small to host a proper sized couch, but the walls are filled with shelves of books, and a soft black rug that I vacuum 10 times a day is just right for stretching out on while we read or play a game.

There are not a lot of minutes for resting. Not now. Not at this busy juncture of life. Some days I have to force myself to put down the business that comes with running a home and keeping up with a busy job. I have to force myself to remember that all the busyness is for the four little faces who depend on my husband and I for more than just food and clothes. I'll admit I don't do it often enough- putting down the business. When you've fought off loosing everything for so long it is hard to let up the business, even for a moment.

But here, now, next to my husband and my sleepy-eyed children who are longer and taller every morning, here as the golden light presses in, here where I realize that this is my dream house, because my family fills it, I am grateful for the moment of rest. I am grateful for the moment of realization, pressing in all around me.