Closing the Door
We’ve owned 3 homes in our 8 years of marriage. This last house was supposed to be our transition house. I wanted to stay 3 years. Chuck wanted to stay 5. We ended up staying 4. There were so many things I loved about it but more that I disliked. I secretly searched online for a new house for the past 2 years and 9 months (right when I found out I was pregnant with Kennedy). I loved our neighborhood. Loved our neighbors. Loved our backyard. But, we needed more space and I was slowly going crazy and becoming less productive without a home office.
So, you would think I would have been happy when we finally left that house. I was so sad, though. Not as sad as leaving our first house but I still did the ugly cry those last few days of packing up and cleaning. Every corner I turned I saw my kids. I saw Brayden in his Woody costume (with no pants on) shaking his booty and saying “There’s a snake in my boot!”. I saw Kennedy taking her first careful steps. I saw Kennedy sleeping in the master closet that was her “room” for her first year. I saw Brayden dancing to Yo Gabba Gabba in the living room. I saw Kennedy in her time out spot. I saw us dancing to Call Me Maybe in the kitchen.
We went in as a family of 3 and left as a family of 4. And even though it was our transition house it was still our home. I will look back on our time in that house as a crazy hectic time of babies and diapers and firsts. And lots of love. I may not have always known it and appreciated it, but we were happy in that house. Really happy.