We moved into our little townhouse right after college. Before we were married and before I had a job. We only put $1,000 down, and we borrowed that from my parents. They thought we were crazy.
I often lose myself in dreams of a house with a fenced backyard for the dogs to run in and a basement to store some things in. I fantasy hardwood floors throughout the house, a shower without glass doors to wipe down, and a basement I can kick the husband into when his passionate love for the Kansas City Royals raises to alarming levels.
But underneath those selfish desires is a deep love for our little house. It’s not everything I want, but it is everything I need. I remember the first night we spent here, before we had lights or a mattress and we slept on the floor. I remember taking in a teenager this past summer. I learned how to be a wife in this house. I got my first job while living here. I grew up in this house.
This house has grown up with us too. It is almost completely furnished with gifts from our wedding and other places. Two rooms in particular have gone through a lot of transformation over the five years we’ve been here.
The loft area at the top of the stairs has served as an office area for many years, but we recently made it a little roomier.
Here’s a before:
But that’s not all. Our second bedroom has seen even more changes.
When we first moved in and for the first several months of our marriage, we had a roommate. I know I have pictures of her room somewhere, but I can’t find them right now.
Shortly after she moved out, I did a crazy paint job while Mark was out of town. The room officially became a guest room:
And now, the room sits empty save for a few baby things our friends have passed on to us. Soon, it will see yet another transformation. It will become a nursery. It will safely hold our first-born child while he sleeps; it will contain her cries as we gently rock her.
We will outgrow this house soon. It’s perfect for us, even perfect for our soon to be family of three, but there’s no room for anything, or anybody, else.