I have a dream. (No, this isn't my Martin Luther King moment!) I have a dream of a house, a house on a lake. With a backyard that gently slopes down to the lake, with a few big old trees. One tree close enough to the waters edge that the rope swing hanging from it shoots you out over the water. There is a dock at the water's edge, the kind of dock that you can stand on the end and cast a fishing pole, jump in to cool off in the heat of summer and sit on to lace up ice skates in the winter. There is also a deck on the back of the house. A deck that all of my family and friends can fit on, to eat and drink and watch the kids fish and swim and ice skate. The deck leads into the house, right into the family room and kitchen. (Yep, the kitchen over looks the lake!) The house is filled with all of the things that define our family. Not settings from Pottery Barn or any other furniture store, but the couch that is worn from all of the family movie nights, slightly stained here and there from juice and magic markers. The walls are covered not with fancy art, but with pictures of our family made by our kids. Shelves are filled with treasures found on our travels, items we fell in love with that could not be left behind, books that we have read a million times and will read a million more. There is a fireplace that we gather around, to play games, draw pictures, and talk about our dreams. Upstairs are the bedrooms. Rooms that express our kids interests. Little V's room is filled with purple and fuschia, turquoise and chandeliers. Mermaids or an enchanted forest of fairies. Baby R's room, who knows, maybe walls covered with snowboarders? Our room is a quiet, peaceful place for big V and I to end the day. And there is another room, a room for anyone who wants to stay. A room filled with comfy blankets and pillows, ready and waiting for family in from out of town, friends needing to crash after a fun filled day on the lake.
Sounds like a pretty incredible house, doesn't it? I will find it...
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