Because let’s be realistic; we need to move, but we’re not buying a house in Boro Park

My dinette is a perfect square.

A perfectly small square, bookended by a garbage can and highchair, which take up precious real estate, but remain in place anyway, because, well, babies. And garbage.

Every year or so, during a random suppertime when little people vie for elbow space and the third cup of water spills, I rotate my kitchen table. From one minute to the next I’ll decide, “If I rotate the table, there will be so much more space.”

For the next whole week, we all wow the extra space and wonder why nobody thought of this brilliant idea sooner.

But then, after a week, we realize whatever space we gained in the width, we lost it in the length.

We need to move to another house.

It’s an old story. We need to move because there are too many little people sharing one bedroom, which happens to also be our playroom. And storage room. And study and den and living room and family room — all those lovely rooms we see on realtor’s incredible virtual tours. And when so many people share a bedroom, and you’re the mother of all these people, bedtime is not fun.

It’s also not fun to share one bathroom with all these amazing people, especially not an hour before Shabbos when the toilet clogs.

As more little people join our family, we start talking about Lakewood. And Monsey. And Linden and Staten Island and Jersey City and Bloomingberg and Blooming Grove and any and every other blooming community. Because let’s be realistic; we need to move, but we’re not buying a house in Boro Park.