It’s wild how fast kids grow and how slowly a house seems to.
When we first started this project, the property was just piles of dirt and heavy equipment. Every visit felt like we were watching people move the same dirt from one spot to another just to keep busy. The kids thought it was awesome. They’d climb the mounds like little mountain goats, sliding down until their shoes were filled with sand. To them, it wasn’t site prep or grading, it was their new favorite playground.
“Is it done yet?” they’d ask, standing proudly on top of a dirt pile like they owned the place.
“Not yet,” I’d say. “We’re still at the dirt part.”
That became the running joke. “The dirt part.” It lasted so long that I started to wonder if “the dirt part” was just our new lifestyle.
Then one day, we pulled up and something actually looked different. There were boards, frames, and enough lumber to make it look like a structure instead of a science experiment. The kids stared for a minute, then immediately started arguing over who got which room.
“This is my room!” Evie said, walking into a space that had no walls, no floors, and was mostly sunlight.
“Close, the kitchen.” I said. Evie would think she is getting the biggest room in the house.
She looked around and said, “It doesn’t feel like it.”
Fair. Because honestly, it didn’t feel like it to me either.
When you’ve been staring at dirt for months, even a half-framed house looks suspiciously like a magic trick. You start squinting, trying to see it the way the contractors do. They nod like, “Oh yeah, this will be the living room,” while I’m still trying to figure out how they can tell which side is up.
Then the next stage came. The roof went on, the windows were framed in, and suddenly it started to look like something HGTV might show in a “before” photo. The kids ran through it yelling things like, “This is the kitchen!” and “Hey! I could climb to my room from here!” which I pretended not to hear.
They were amazed for a while. Then, predictably, they turned to me and said, “Is it done yet?”
“Not yet,” I said, again. “Now we’re at the plumbing part.”
Apparently, plumbing doesn’t have the same wow factor as watching a digger move dirt. Evie’s interest lasted until she saw the porta-potty, which she immediately squealed to Axel, “this is the port-potty Axel.” Then came farting noises…. IYKYK
Each new stage brings excitement, confusion, and the same question: “Is it done yet?” And I get it. Because I ask myself the same thing every time I pull up.
The truth is, we’re all learning patience in real time. The kids are learning that things take time to grow, and I’m learning that my caffeine intake directly correlates with how many decisions I have to make about window sizes.
But we’re getting there. Slowly.
Every time we visit now, the house looks a little more real. The kids still run around like it’s an amusement park, and I still take photos of pipes like they’re baby milestones. “Look! The plumbing went in!” is my new “first steps.”
One day, the house will be done, and we’ll move in, and it’ll all make sense. But for now, I love watching them grow up alongside it, curious, messy, impatient, and so full of life.
It might not be finished yet, but neither are they.
And maybe that’s the point.
