Our House

It is a truth universally acknowledged that every home has a neglected room.  You know the kind. The sad little lonely spare room filled to the brim with a dusty treadmill and all those scrap booking projects you were going to get around to?

The double garage crowded with absolutely everything - except cars. The office that is so badly organised or poorly lit that you rarely, if ever, work in there. 

The gargantuan 'theatre room' where you never have the time to watch all those movies you envisioned. The gleaming bathroom resplendent with super-sized hot tub that you rarely indulge in because you're most likely just weird and only wanted the damn thing to just SHOW OFF in the first place. And no, I'm not jealous AT ALL! HMPH. 

You see, here's my confession: I don't have any of these rooms. Yes, none of the rooms in my house are neglected and unused.

The reason for this is simple. And here's the second part of my confession: our house only consists of a grand total of... wait for it:

Drum roll please...

Seven rooms!  

With five people living here. You do the math. This means that every room is used and thoroughly lived in. This also redefines the concept of togetherness.  

I must admit I have a bit of a  love/hate relationship with our humble abode. I do love the fact that we own it and not a bank. But I might be developing a tiny case of claustrophobia. 

It's also frightfully difficult to keep clean and tidy due to lack of space. This is pretty much the way I grew up back in the good old days of the 70s and 80s. Or the 'olden days' as my boys call them. In a simple, three bedroom Aussie Battler home in the 'burbs. Classy. 

Um I have no idea what 'recaulking' is but I do indeed have those nasty
energy vampires snapping at me. Maybe I should check my neglected Pinterest account?

Having said all of the above, our bathroom is a tad neglected at the moment and in need of some Gumption attention. Ahem. Did I mention that I hate cleaning bathrooms. Who wants a big McMansion with six bathrooms? Only if it comes with a cleaner, thanks. 

Thinking about it further, the entire house could do with a coat of paint. Or, you know, a bulldozer, to knock it down and start over again. Okay, this dilapidated old box quaint little cottage could do with a little bit of TLC. But we haven't been nominated for House Rules or won the lottery. We just seem to be in something resembling a box-shaped rut in regards to doing anything about moving. But I'm sure it will happen one day. That, or I'll die here. Which is fitting, because it's as big as a coffin. BOOM TISH. 

I jest. Actually, it's all good because there are amazing benefits to living in a small house.  

Without further ado I bring to you the top five benefits of claustrophobic living:

5. No mortgage.
4. No mortgage. 
3. No mortgage.
2. No mortgage.

Aaaaaaaaaaaand... bring back the drum roll... 

The Number 1 benefit to living in a small house is:

1. You guessed it - NO MORTGAGE!! 

If we really wanted to have a McMansion we could, but we'd get a mortgage instead of fries with that. One of these days Mickey Blue Eyes will be a millionaire and I'll be his smokin' hawt trophy wife and then I'm sure it will happen. I might need shit tonnes of plastic surgery to make the latter happen, but details. 

Anyway, home is where the wine is. Which reminds me, I don't have any wine. I have no space for a wine rack. How rude. 

The thing is, initially when we bought this charming dwelling we believed that we might never have children. It would have been fine for the two of us. It was still fine when Mr 14 made his momentous appearance 14 years ago, funnily enough. Then we had our second boy, now Mr 11 and it still seemed fine. They were only babies. Around this time Mickey Blue Eyes had Cancer and improving the house or moving took a back seat. Then a few years later, I was expecting another baby and suffered a late miscarriage. I suppose I could say life is what happens when you're busy making other plans. Except I stole that from John Lennon. Somehow we were always so busy dealing with emotional stuff that we never got around to thinking about practical stuff. 

Then one day we woke up and I was up the duffian yet again. Mr 6 made his appearance and here we were still in our cramped little quarters. Then Mickey Blue Eyes decided to take the plunge of working for himself at home and in order to do this we've had to put any ideas of moving on hold for a while. But at least we know the meaning of true togetherness and NO MORTGAGE. 

Sorry, I just need to keep saying that to remind myself that there is point to this sardine-like existence.

And now I suppose I had better go and crack open that tub of Gumption and clean my match-box sized bathroom while you go and watch movies in your theatre room or enjoy your hot-tub while your cleaner scrubs your five bathrooms. Sniff. 

Linking up for I Must Confess , Open Slather and Mummy Mondays.


What is the most neglected room in your house?