This Old House

A friend asked not too long ago if I was going to miss this house and I all too quickly responded with, "no, not really." I mean, we are excited to move. We've been dreaming of moving for a while now. We've wanted more space to roam both inside and out and even though we do love the house we are in now, we both always kind of knew (or hoped) it would be temporary.

We moved into our current home almost exactly three years ago. To some people (okay a majority of people) that might seem like a short time. Maybe even too short to make another move. But Shawn and I both feel really good about this move, about the home we are moving into, about the town our kids will come to know as their hometown. We hope to really settle in. Put down roots and make a ton of memories. We are excited to make this new home our dream home. It already has SO many of the qualities we've both dreamed about and we are confident that with some elbow grease, a little time, and a lot of love it can be perfect for us.

But, back to our current house. I realized after I popped off with the matter of fact answer that, no, we weren't all that attached to this house, that I was wrong. We are attached to it. And in the little things and day to day happenings in the last couple of weeks I have seen the walls and hallways and floors and yard with new eyes. And, I will miss it. For a million little reasons.

This house is where I really found my feet with being a stay at home mom. I can remember sitting on a barstool in our kitchen one day about a year into this journey. Lauren was down for a nap and I sat at the bar and cried and cried and cried. I had reached a point when I knew I was going to have to commit myself one hundred percent to this job and quit Painting Pictures of Egypt.

Lauren learned to walk on the hardwood floors of our kitchen. And soon became my biggest fan and helper. She even baptized herself in the guest bathroom toilet. Good times. Good times.

We celebrated Christmases and birthdays and anniversaries. We bought balloons and made more cakes and cookies than my thighs could ever need.

Lauren chased bunnies and played ring around the rosie in our backyard. Bubbles and chalk, though long washed away, left their mark. We found favorite bedtime stories and delighted in the little girl who begged to read them all just one more time.

We brought Easton home from the hospital. Lauren became a big sister. Shawn and I, parents of two. We fumbled through the early stages of sleep deprivation and learned that our hearts really do double in size. That we really can love each child completely and wholly and unconditionally.

Our marriage thrived. It struggled. It thrived again. There were arguments over dirty socks and cups left out. And there were special moments too. There were dates when we felt like kids again ourselves.

There are more. Some too precious to even write about. This home will always, always, have a very special place in my heart. Not for the brick and morter....but for the memories. For the life that was lived between those walls. I'm sure that even as we pack up the last of the boxes and move them to our new place, there will be tears. Because there are tears now. Because how do you leave a place that has so shaped you in such a short time? Because, how did I just now begin to realize it? Now, when I have such a short amount of time to remember and will the images of my children playing on the living room floor or sleeping in their very first bedrooms to stick in my mind?