What it means to Want

Websters dictionary definition of Want: the state of not having; the condition of being without anything; absence or scarcity of what is needed or desired; deficiency; lack

I am a firm believer in the power of words, one's own words and the affect on one's life to be more specific.  The power of positive thinking (or talking).  I read a book in college that very eloquently stated you should never use the word 'want'.  Such as "I want a job"  or " I want money" or " I want a spouse and kids"  The use of the word in such a way means you will forever and always be in want of whatever it is you desire.  I bring this up now because John and I are struggling a little with this concept right now, and I'm starting to find that we are a bit ridiculous.  We have everything we could ever need, and more, especially with 3 healthy kids, and our own good health and sanity.  But still we daily find ourselves wanting for things.

Mainly our want for things falls within the realm of this house.  We bought this house knowing we would fix it up.  Lately though, we've found ourselves looking at the Reece and Nichols website to see if there is something out there that suits us better, or would make our lives easier.  I don't think we are serious, we are just frustrated.  For John and I both, we spent all of our twenties and our early thirties doing whatever we wanted with our resources, time, and talents.  Now with 3 very young kids, we live on someone else's clock and every dollar has its place.  We barely find the time to shower and brush our teeth, muchless completely renovate and furnish at least one room of this house.  And we're one less salary to boot.  This is not an easy adjustment. 

P-nut finding new ways to make me laugh every day.

We have 3 bedrooms started, but none of them finished.  Our kitchen and dining area is in a state of confusion and does not accommodate for the 5 people that will soon be needing to sit at one table together.  Our "hearth room" has no furniture in it with the exception of the messy computer desk, my old piano, and a pack and play.  We have a finished basement that we don't even want to use because we find it gross, but it would be such a great place for kids.  I know as I write this I sound terribly selfish and ridiculous.  We want a new house in an old neighborhood, and it's going to take time.  We knew this going in, but we didn't know we'd have three kids 23 months apart and the cost of daycare would negate a salary.  And really, everything we want, well, it's fluff.  It's not necessary for a healthy life, and we know it.  And the kids, they are our life now.  That old life doesn't really mean much anymore.

It shouldn't be hard to live in the moment.  This is likely the last time we'll have snuggly, fuzzy newborns.  Our little girl won't stay an innocent, yet ornery, two forever.  But at the same time, I have to reluctantly admit, it is hard to live in the moment.  Believe it or not, John and I already talk about retirement.  Not in the sense of saving for it, but in the sense that we anticipate it.  This is unhealthy, I realized, after a comment from a retired neighbor.  He said "I'll trade you retirement to be 30 years younger again."  Duh.

The odd couple lounging after a meal.

So it is my goal of late to stop myself, or John, whenever one of us says "I want."  Its an empty statement and will never get us anywhere.  In fact, I hope to also cut down on the phrase "I need."  I need nothing.  I have 3 beautiful babies, an amazing spouse, a house large enough for 3 families (in my opinion, I am not one for gigantic mc mansions), and we are living within our means.  There really is not much else we could hope for except the continued health and happiness of our loved ones.