The Project was to finally move all the Wyse children into their own bedrooms. This is something we've been meaning to do since the house renovation in 2015. It only took three years.... last week, Fritz and I moved into the master bedroom, which we've been using as a guest bedroom since we bought the house seven years ago. Trixie moved into our (old) bedroom. (Previously, Trixie and Mattias were sharing a bedroom.) And my visiting parents stayed - for the first time - in the guest room in the basement. Whew! There was painting, deep-cleaning, furniture dis- and re-assembly, stuff-purging, and carrying things up and down flights of steps. One day, Fritz's Fitbit informed him he had 42 flights by noon. Everything is still disheveled and a bit haphazard. But I'm sort of appreciating the empty/half-finishedness. Trixie, for example, is still sleeping on a mattress on the floor in her room. But it no longer feels crowded. And the labor-intensive part is over.
To move into the master bedroom after seven years is basically moving into a new house. The floor is undamaged. The walls don't have a ring of dirt around the bottom 3 feet. The master bedroom – with two sinks in the bathroom! and two closets! – feels like it's meant for someone more grown up and more sophisticated than us. It doesn't feel right. It's too much. In this neighborhood, all of the houses have master bedrooms (or owner's suites - whatever you want to call it). To be honest, I've always looked at everyone's else's "fancy" suites and taken some amount of pride in our more humble bedroom. Guess I can't do that any more. Now we have our master bedroom, just like all the other neighbors. People in glass houses, right? But: shouldn't there be some sort of snappy, slightly derogatory term for people who own houses with master bedrooms? I mean: it's not just me, right? There's something kind of uncomfortably weird and privileged and first world about it... (No matter what name you give it: master bedroom or owner's suite.)
Over the last seven years, we've slowly expanded into the space of the house. This was always Fritz's view of how life in this house would go: we grow into it. I think this is a rather German perspective. Most Germans buy ONE house and live in it their whole life. As a result, there's a lot less property turnover in Germany. Most Americans, on the other hand, move frequently, buying bigger houses as their families grow. I guess so far, Fritz'z strategy has worked for us. I wonder if it will accommodate us for another seven years? Our family isn't getting bigger, but the kids will physically get bigger....
The part that I would like to see: which seems to be neither common for Germans, nor common for Americans, is the downsizing part. Once the kids are gone (oh please, let them go to college and be gone at 18ish...), it would be nice to have LESS. I would like to live in less space, I would like to have much less stuff, and I would like to spend less time fussing over school districts and neighborhoods. Generally, I miss less. I miss the simplicity that seemed so much more unattainable when I was single, or when it was just Fritz and I. I continue to feel really tired by all the stuff and complexity that comes with the 4 other people in the house. And it's not that I don't constantly fight to have less...or maybe it's the fact that I feel that I AM constantly fighting for less. And losing. It didn't feel like such a losing battle before kids.
Well, anyway, everyone has their own space now. I would like to tell you that it was unnecessary and an overkill. But I would also like to mention that the kids are fighting less. There's been an uptick in pride for the space that IS their room: is it messy, is it clean? Maybe ownership is helpful for kids, too: If it IS messy, I better clean it up because no one other than me is responsible. Still, still...it all feels extravagant.
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