This new house

We did not become a family in the house that we live in. The home we brought each of our babies to was a single wide mobile home. It was nice, only a few years old and the biggest that you can get. We spent a lot of time re-arranging after every birthday or Christmas when the kids got new clothes or more toys. Our third baby had to share our bedroom until she was done breastfeeding, then she shared a room with her big sister. A room in a trailer with a twin size bed and a crib in it. We literally had to take the door off the closet because there was not enough room to open it. You could hear what was going on in the kitchen from the master bathroom and they were at different ends of the house. Yet, somehow, it was the best home we have shared as a family. The house we live in now is three times the size as that trailer. The kids each have their own bedrooms, which are the size of the living room in our old house. My kids often remember times in our "old house." It sometimes seems that we were happier when we were crammed into a small space together. Maybe it was just easier then. The kids were younger and that was the only life they had known. Sometimes when I think about going home I think of the old house. We have only lived in the "new house" for two years. I guess it just takes longer than that to fill it up with happiness and good times. Maybe it's like a balloon and I need to push a lot of laughter and smiles through at the beginning, and before we know it, our happiness will be expanding without much effort.