For her b-day party, she wanted to have a slumber party with three friends. So we all have been camping out in our one bedroom apartment. They've taken over my bed. I got kicked out to the couch.
Every time A has her friends over, I have this small knot in my stomach that they will comment on our poorer lifestyle.
"Why is your house so small?"
"Why do you live in an apartment?"
"Why don't you have your own room?"
I feel this self-imposed pressure to compensate. I try to make our house the most fun or the most "cool." As if using buttercup yellow bowls makes up for the fact that we can't all sit around our kitchen table.
Thankfully, A doesn't seem to notice or mind. It amazes me how proud she is of our home. She will show off different toys and engage them in activities. Last night, they took all the couch pillows off and turned the small bedroom floor into one giant mattress.
In private, I've sometimes asked her things like, "Do you wish we had a bigger home?"
But to her, this is home. It is big because of the love and fun inside.
