Big Box

I spent a lot of years daydreaming about a new house. I fell into the common trap of thinking that a bigger, better house would make my life, well, bigger and better. Life would have to be easier without a baby in our closet or having to go down to the spidery, 60-watt crawl space to get the juicer, right? Having hard floors by the garage entry or double vanity sinks would perfect my patience? Surely I'd bake my own graham crackers and granola bars with a walk-in pantry. Naturally I'd catch up on scrapbooking when I had a room dedicated solely to my supplies instead of stuffing everything under the bed/in the linen closet? With so much hope on the line I hired a space planner to cover my bases. Even he promised me the moon with his Prada glasses, Mont Blanc pen, Fiat and custom leather man satchel. All signs pointed to the EASY button being hit once we changed locations and sprawled out.

To all the people so squished in a home that Shel Silverstein might write a funny poem about you, hear ye this: A house doesn't change anything.

I am not better rested and my kids still whine. I don't exercise more. I still step on toys all day. I still fight with my husband, stay up too late, and have more projects than I have time. Every family dinner is not delicious and my kids don't laugh robustly while they pass the basket of hot biscuits like the family in the Pillsbury commercial does. I was banking on some serious moving magic. It didn't happen.

I'm not going to lie: I really love my home. It is full of light and things that mean something to me. It is nice to have space. It feels good to feel organized. But we all know that happiness does not come from upgraded finishes and personal change does not come from square feet. There is only one plan of happiness and it has nothing to do with how squishy your carpet pad is. (Although Greg does seem happier from the additional hot water tank. That boy and his long showers! I now compensate for his luxury by taking 90-second showers every other day.) Change occurs by choice, not circumstance. No one accidentally changes. If I want to overcome any of the outstanding issues I had in my old house I'm going to have to crack down and deliberately grind them out.

A house is just a box you invest in but it does not invest in you. I am literally the same person living the same life I lived before. I'm glad that moving was a reality check. It was a reminder to think outside the box.

Photo of the plate I drew in 1980 as a 4-year old Montessori preschool student in Dallas, Texas. It is a favorite kid lunch plate.