Every day, a new fort goes up in the family room. The fort building generally produces a turf war, first between siblings fighting over territory rights and right of way access (even imaginary properties have easement and setback issues), then later with me, the landlord who comes to evict the squatters.
I hate these forts. I know they are a traditional part of childhood, but I think they are a mess, and I hate listening to the squabbling over space and noise when both kids have their own rooms with four walls and a door made out of material stronger than pillows. Rocket is the loud neighbor, while Clover would be the one calling the cops or yelling at kids to get off her lawn. And this gets played out every afternoon in our family room.
These forts are the only thing being constructed at our house. People keep asking about our remodel and if it's almost finished, which would make me laugh if I wasn't trying not to cry. Nothing is new here. We aren't even at the building permits stage and sadly the hold ups have nothing to do with us, our architect, our builder, or even our neighbors. The plans were set in December, but it's been months and months of very expensive negotiations with county over our small addition. Bureaucracy is real and it sucks. I have this optimistic fantasy that we'll suddenly get a call saying it's all approved and we can move forward, but really, I feel like we're going to be stuck in this place forever.
We took down our back pergola this weekend to pass it along to my parents. It was a great addition and gave us some much needed shade, which means I'm not used to all of the bright light now that it's gone. Our backyard looks naked and sad without it, but hopefully (this year? some day?) there will be a kitchen going into the spot previous occupied by the pergola. My optimism is melting.