There's a house on a street that I drive down almost daily...that I covet.
It's not particularly fancy, in the sense that it's a mansion or something, but it's a lot bigger than mine. It's brick with a beautiful garden patio on the side and a gorgeous golden retriever that's always running in the yard. The flowers are vibrant, the chiminea is at the center and the trees tower over the lawn.
Inside, I dream that the couple who live there plays records while drinking wine and chopping up yummy foods in the kitchen. They steal moments to kiss or to dance and to give thanks for their day. I envision kids running around in dress up clothes building forts and indulging their folks in cutesy faces.
I do all of this in the 15 seconds that it takes me to drive by it and down the hill. Pathetic, I know.
My house is quaint, "cottage-like," charming, a perfect home for a young couple....at least, I think that's what the ad said when we bought the place. Don't get me wrong. It's filled with beautiful wood floors, gorgeous archways, a sweet backyard and a kitchen that almost always has good smells coming out of it...the best part is that it's filled with seven years of memories...the births of each of our children, the planting of our gardens, the building of our lives, the nourishing of our safe haven.
It's easy for me to get caught up in what a bigger space would do for me or how my kids deserve this or that. And, in all honesty, my kids would probably not know what to do if they each had their own bathroom, play area, or bedroom. The big kids like telling stories to each other before they fall asleep and fighting over who gets to play with what.
The truth is, I am blessed and happiness is wanting what you have. The truth also is that some days it feels like the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. And, maybe it is. But for today, I will covet my own abundance and remember that this is my hot mess...a beautiful one.