In an attempt to possibly not work for the rest of our lives, my husband and I decided to really scale back and get down to the basics of having just what we need. With me having a career in real estate (if you can call it that) it's kind of a no-brainer. Just recently we moved to new place that is 1/3 of the one we previously had and I am now living in a home the same size of my first college apartment. Tar River anyone? Don't get the wrong the place is totally adorable. Our sweet treehouse is in Trey's extended family and was actually built by his grandfather which is pretty cool. The house is robin's-egg blue and is perched amongst some really pretty live oaks so while you sit out on the top deck you really do feel like a bird in your little cozy nest. I am thankful to have it, the kids love it and we are getting to spend a lot of quality time with one another. All up on each other. Every day. All snuggly buggly together. Close. All the time. Together.
Dear God ... I don't think I'm going to survive this.
You see, I am more of a "multi-room" kinda gal. The treehouse has 3 bedrooms / 1 bath upstairs with the living area and kitchen making the other 1/2 of the house. Did I mention that it is round? So basically you are either in your bedroom OR in the open living space looking at each other. Don't feel like listening to the TV? Go to your room. Have looked at your sister all day and need some relief? Go to your room. Annoyed with your husband for any reason at all? Go to your room. I'm not joking here people. Either we are together as a family or you are in your room. Alone with every stitch of clothing stuffed into the closets, toys stacked in organizers to the ceiling and every framed picture we own, nailed to the walls because there is simply just not another inch of space to display it. No, my dream home would have a sprawling floor plan with countless rooms. The kind of home where you decide to just visit the other side of your estate and upon opening a door you've never entered there sits a kid you forgot you had. "Oh HEY there little Sasprilla! How's the last 6 years been treating ya? Wondered where you crawled off to".
Listen, I love my kids ... adore truly, but we haven't spent this much "together time" since they were in my womb. And with the weather turning colder and it getting darker at like 4 pm, we are all stuck inside the treehouse surrounded by boxes upon boxes of absolute crap that I am just too exhausted to deal with. Seriously. Where in the hellz do you put your 4th set of pottery plates that you just HAD TO HAVE when you got married? Why didn't anyone say that unless I am planning on feeding an entire town, having 36 dinner plates really isn't needed? I am officially an every day china hoarder. Probably should add platter hoarder to that title too since I own countless platters in every size, shape, and type you could ever want. Aunt Beatrice is having a garden party and needs a frosted Amaryllis shaped platter? Done. Wine and Cheese gathering? Got your oval grape infused number right here. Old school clam bake? BAM! Rustic bowls and oblong ditties coming at ya. Fancy Smancy? Engraved silver beauties at your service. With handles? Of course. Decorated with flowers, boats, barns, your mother ... yes yes and yes. Relish tray? What decent southern girl doesn't? Glass cake platter? I can't believe you even asked me that.
So while the rest of the world is spending their days in the further most corners of their home not speaking to one another for days, the Stidham crew is talking to one another from across the house with excellent clarity and spending another day of together time in our little blue treehouse ...... counting plates.
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