making do with what you've got

We are learning so much this year about ourselves and the kinds of environments in which we thrive. For example, although I may not think of myself as someone who is very rigid about cleanliness and order around the home, it turns out that I need a certain degree of predictability to ensure maximum flexibility. So if we're going to live well in a small space and use suitcases instead of dresser drawers for our clothing (and a couple of cardboard boxes shoved under the dining table for school books and supplies), I need to know that I can easily find anything I need. I put a significant amount of effort into keeping those spaces tidy.

We recently learned that we may or may not live in the same city for the duration of our time in India. There is a possibility we may have to move hundreds of miles south to another city after just a couple of months but no one will know for sure if or when until probably the last minute. I don't know how to plan for that, so I guess we'll just have to cross our fingers and hold our breath, or something. As long as we don't forget to pack toothbrushes and underwear (and anti-malaria medecine), probably we'll be okay in the end.

In the meantime, we continue to (bravely) face each little daily challenge. One of mine is the fact that I have to share a bedroom with BR these days. This would not be a big deal (and it's even kind of fun because we get to cuddle in my bed in the mornings), except that he wakes up way too early. That is one of the reasons we're sharing, actually; I stay close by so that he can't sneak into the girls' room and wake them up way too early. Usually, he wanders around the room scavenging for treasure or stands by the window and gives me updates on the goings on of our neighborhood while I whisper for him to hush and go back to sleep (this is pointless, I know, but I still do it every single day).

He doesn't have a proper bed, either, so we cleared a corner for him and laid out a sleeping bag and he has his blankie and special pillow and he loves it. He tends to roll around the floor a lot, so when I come in at night after he's asleep, I have to try not to step on him.

Last night, I couldn't find him at all so I finally turned on a light. He wasn't in his bed, he wasn't in mine. He was here:

There he is, under the overturned laundry basket in a little "fort" he made for himself. See? We're all learning lessons in flexibility in our current habitats.