As always, life is wild. I've been blogging, but not posting my blogs, if that makes any sense. I've had this habit recently when I've written a thought-out post in the evening, only to chicken out in the morning and never posting.
I worry about the way our life is portrayed by me on this blog and if I'm giving an accurate picture. Sometimes, someone who has read this blog but isn't intimately involved in our lives will see us in person and be pleasantly surprised that it wasn't as severe as they had imagined. With others it's the opposite affect, and they don't understand the situation until they're in the thick of it, and realized they underestimated.
Needless to say, I'm trying very hard to be honest in my posts and especially in my feelings, which is difficult, because if I write something brutal and gut-wrenching, our lives might seem a bit grim, when in fact, it was only one post regarding one aspect of an event. Ho hum. I'm trying to iron out the kinks and have the courage to write prudently and accurately.
One thing that I have been thinking about a lot lately is our home. Our house doesn't photograph well with my camera phone, which is why I don't post house pics on our blog. But, I love our house. Love it. It's a century-old Craftsman style, with hardwood throughout, built-ins, beamed ceilings, and three stone fireplaces. It matches my taste and era. The kitchen cabinets may be over 60 years old, and there is only one bathroom, but we've overlooked it because we just like the rest of the house so stinking much.
But we have problems looming ahead. Our 4-square home has all the living space on the main floor, and the bedrooms and bathroom up a mighty stairway. Our nearly 11 month old daughter isn't sitting or even rolling yet. She will soon have adaptive equipment in the house. Her bedroom is upstairs, her things scattered throughout the house.
When we first moved in, we were comfortable with the idea that we would eventually remodel our kitchen once our children successfully destroyed the remaining functioning parts (they have a good start), but now that plan seems short-sighed. The only thing that changes right now is our ideas, and how much money it might cost to implement those plans.
There is no emergency here, as we'll be able to carry Martha for quite awhile, and the truth is that no one knows what next year, or the next year may look like. We only anticipate that her needs will be best met without stairs involved with getting her to the bath, crib, and toys.
Life, and God work in funny ways. Mark and I had our eyes on this house for the better part of five years. We never once considered that it might not be functional for our family. I found out I was pregnant within a month of us buying the house, and now we have Martha. I won't question why, because too many of these choices were made with earnest prayers.
Another part left to trust, another knot waiting to be untied.
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