As a little girl I would spend endless hours drawing house plans, arranging imaginary furniture and “living” in my future house.
Years later I still dream of “my house”. We live in a tiny 2 bedroom townhouse that we outgrew pretty much the moment we moved in. We have a tiny fenced in yard (and when I say yard I mean a plot of rocks.), the world’s smallest kitchen and absolutely no storage. It is anything but ideal for a family.
my tiny kitchen
the extend of our living space
I dream of space. Space inside for our growing family. Space outside for Jude to run and play. Storage for all of my husband’s collections. A kitchen where I can prepare a meal and not use the stove top as a prepping surface. For years it’s only been a dream. But the time has come. To Move.
We don’t know where we will be moving but we’re packing boxes and planning to move the end of March. (Still renting) I’m anxious and excited.