If you have followed me for any amount of time, you have probably seen little pieces of our homestead mixed in between births, photography sessions, homeschooling, and everyday family life. You have probably also figured out that this is very much a work in progress. There is always something that needs to be built, fixed, painted, torn out, planted, cleaned up, or added to the list for later. Sometimes I look around and see everything we have already accomplished here, and other days all I can see are the seventeen projects waiting for us to find the time and money to tackle them.
But I think that is part of what I love about it. We aren’t moving into someone else’s finished version of a home and simply living in it. We are building ours little by little. There are things I would change tomorrow if someone handed me an unlimited renovation budget, and there are projects we know will have to wait. We have learned very quickly that when you have land, animals, a house, and a big family, there is no such thing as being completely finished. You cross one thing off the list and somehow three more appear underneath it.
There Is Always Another Project
Right now, our project list feels approximately six miles long. There are things inside the house we want to change, things outside that need attention, projects for the animals, projects for the kids, and all of the ideas that begin with, “You know what would be really cool?” Those are dangerous words around here because they usually end with us standing in a home improvement store trying to figure out how much lumber we can fit into whatever vehicle we brought that day.
Some projects are practical. Something is broken or simply doesn’t work well for a family our size, so we need to fix it. Others are things we have wanted for a while because they would make our home function better. And then there are the completely unnecessary projects I dream up because I can already see exactly what I want a particular corner of our property to become. Those tend to be my favorite and probably everyone else’s least favorite when I announce them.
We do what we can when we can. Sometimes that means hiring someone who knows significantly more than we do. Sometimes it means bartering skills, finding materials secondhand, learning something ourselves, or waiting until the budget allows us to tackle the next piece. Progress here rarely happens all at once.
I Don’t Want to Wait Until It’s Finished to Love It
I think it is incredibly easy to look at a home that needs work and mentally live in the future version of it. I’ll love the kitchen once we finish this. The yard will be beautiful once we do that. I’ll invite people over when this room is done. Everything will feel settled once we finally finish the next big project.
Except there is always another project.
If I waited until our homestead was finished to enjoy living here, I would probably be waiting forever. There will always be something I want to improve. There will always be another idea. There will probably always be a pile of materials somewhere that everyone has been instructed not to move because I have plans for it.
This is still our home right now.
Our children are growing up here right now. They’re running through this yard while we’re still figuring out what to do with parts of it. They’re watching us build things, make mistakes, tear those things apart, and try again. They’re making memories in rooms I haven’t renovated yet and playing outside beside projects that aren’t finished.
I don’t want to miss this version of our life because I’m too busy waiting for the prettier one.
A Lot of This Life Is Learning as We Go
Neither of us woke up one morning magically knowing how to do everything required to create the life we wanted. There has been a lot of Googling, asking people who know more than us, watching someone else do something, making mistakes, and occasionally realizing halfway through a project that we may have dramatically underestimated what we signed up for.
That is part of the fun, though. There is something incredibly satisfying about looking at something that exists because we figured out how to make it happen. It doesn’t always turn out perfectly. Sometimes the lesson is simply that next time we will absolutely pay someone else to do it. But every project teaches us a little more about this place and about what we are capable of doing ourselves.
I also love that our children get to see that process. They don’t only see the finished result. They see the work. They see us learning things we didn’t already know, asking for help when we need it, and trying again when something doesn’t work. They get handed tools, asked to carry things, sent to fetch something we forgot, and occasionally recruited into a family project they definitely did not volunteer for.
Why We’re Doing All of This Anyway
There are certainly easier ways to live. Sometimes I think about how much simpler life would be without land to maintain, animals to care for, projects constantly waiting, and a running list of things we want to build. Then one of the kids runs outside barefoot, somebody is checking on an animal, we’re all working on something together, and I remember exactly why this life appealed to us in the first place.
I want our children to have room. I want them outside. I want them to understand that food doesn’t originate in a grocery store and that taking care of animals means showing up for them every single day. I want them to know how to use their hands, solve problems, grow things, build things, and learn through actually doing them. Homeschooling has always fit naturally into that because so much of what they learn happens in the middle of our regular life.
I also wanted a home that felt like ours. Not necessarily the biggest or newest or most impressive one, but somewhere we could put down roots and slowly shape around the way our family actually lives. With nine people under one roof, “the way our family actually lives” tends to require a lot of durability, storage, outdoor space, and accepting that anything white has made a terrible decision by entering this house.
Doing It Slowly Has Changed the Way I See Progress
I would love to say I am naturally patient about all of this, but I am absolutely not. When I can picture something finished, I want it finished approximately yesterday. Having to tackle our homestead one project at a time has forced me to become a little better at appreciating progress instead of only looking at what is left.
Sometimes progress is a huge renovation. Sometimes it is finally fixing the annoying thing we have complained about for six months. Sometimes it’s clearing an area outside, bringing home materials for the next project, or getting one small piece of a much larger plan finished.
It all counts.
There is something satisfying about looking back at old pictures and realizing how much has changed. When you live somewhere every day, the progress can be difficult to see because your eyes immediately go to the next thing that needs attention. Then you look at where you started and realize that all of those small projects have slowly become something much bigger.
I Want the Kids to Remember Building It With Us
One day I hope our children look back and remember more than what the finished homestead looked like. I hope they remember being part of creating it.
I hope they remember projects taking over the house, riding along to pick up materials, helping outside, animals getting into places they absolutely did not belong, and hearing us announce another ridiculous idea. I hope they remember ordinary afternoons outside and the feeling of having space to explore. I hope some of the things we are building now become so normal to them that they don’t realize how much work went into creating them until they’re adults.
They are growing alongside this place. By the time some of our biggest plans are finished, the little ones running around here now will be completely different children. Some of the older ones may be beginning lives of their own.
That makes me a little less impatient about getting to the finish line.
There isn’t really a finish line anyway.
One Project at a Time
I have a pretty clear picture in my head of what I hope this place becomes over the next several years. There are projects I am ridiculously excited about, projects that are purely practical, and a few that will probably change completely before we ever get around to them. I’m sure we will add plenty more along the way.
For now, we’re building it the way we have built most things in our life: one piece at a time.
It isn’t finished. It isn’t always pretty. There are days when the project list feels completely unreasonable and days when I look around and cannot believe how much we have already done.
But it is ours.
Our children are growing here. We’re learning here. We’re making mistakes here. We’re building something that fits this big, loud, slightly chaotic family of ours, even if it takes us years to get there.
And I think someday, when most of the projects we are dreaming about now are finally finished, these might actually be the days I miss.
